Chapter 6
Luther
The boardroom on the tenth floor of Keller Industries usually smells like coffee, polished wood, and climate-controlled air. Today, before Victor Hale and Dorian Vale even arrive, the room feels wrong.
Blake stands beside the long table with the pitch deck open on his tablet, his thumb pressed hard against the edge of the case.
The morning light catches on his glasses and hides his eyes from me for a moment, but I don't need to see them clearly to know where his head is.
I've been watching him carry the insult since the email first came through.
He'd read the organizational slide twice, gone very still, and closed the deck without saying a word until Grayson forced food in front of him.
Founder and Creative Lead. Principal Authority and Executive Liaison.
Two titles arranged on a page like Keller Industries began in my hands and Blake merely colored in the edges.
He hasn't stopped thinking about it. Neither have I.
"They called me a fucking creative lead," Blake says under his breath.
His voice is quiet, but there's nothing small in it.
Anger cuts through the exhaustion hard enough to put color high in his cheeks.
He looks pale beneath it, too thin in the shoulders, his shirt sitting looser than I like.
The dark circles under his eyes make my hand want to reach for the back of his neck before my brain catches up with the instinct.
"They put my name under yours," he continues, the words flatter now, which makes them worse. "Like I make the pretty things and you decide what happens to them."
My hand settles at the back of his neck, thumb resting against the tense line there. He doesn't lean into it, but he doesn't pull away either. That's enough in this room, with glass walls around us and the elevator already moving somewhere beyond the corridor.
"Then we'll make sure they understand who's in charge."
Blake's mouth tightens. "I don't need you to fight the room for me."
"I know." I bend closer, keeping my voice low enough that it belongs only to him. "I'll redirect them when they forget who built this company. I'll only take over if you ask me to, if they cross a line, or if I think you're about to pass out."
His eyes narrow behind his glasses. "I'm not going to pass out, Alpha."
The laugh that moves through me is quiet and too heavy to become anything bright. "I'll be the judge of that until you start eating regular meals again."
Blake looks like he wants to argue, but his hand lifts to adjust his glasses, and I see the fine tremor in his fingers before he hides it against the tablet.
His anger's real. So is the exhaustion underneath it.
I squeeze the back of his neck once, then let go before the touch becomes something he has to lean on in front of strangers.
He draws in a slow breath. When he exhales, his shoulders settle by a fraction. “Damn right it is.”
The conference room door opens before I can answer.
Victor Hale enters first, as if arriving second still somehow gives him the right to claim the room.
Dorian Vale follows half a step behind him with a leather folio tucked beneath one arm and the pitch deck already open on his tablet.
Victor’s gaze moves to me before it touches Blake, a small choice dressed up as habit.
Old-guard Alpha manners, polished enough to pass as courtesy and pointed enough that I feel Blake go still beside me.
Victor extends his hand to me. “Luther. Thank you for making the time. I know how many pressures sit on a family operation at this scale.”
I take his hand because I know the language of rooms like this, but I do not hold it a second longer than required. “Blake’s schedule is the one you should be thanking. This is his company.”
Victor’s smile barely shifts. “Of course. Keller Industries has always had a strong creative core.”
Beside me, Blake's scent sharpens and I let the silence sit until Victor looks at him properly. Blake doesn't offer warmth when he shakes Victor's hand. "CEO," he says, the single word clean and steady.
Victor nods with professional ease. "CEO. Naturally."
The correction lands, but it doesn't settle.
I feel that within the first five minutes.
Victor begins with the right language, all strategic partnership, infrastructure, long-term growth.
He tells us they're not here to absorb Keller Industries.
He says we retain creative authority, operational continuity, family governance, and mission control.
His words are smooth enough to pass under most defenses, and on paper, the offer's strong enough to make even my suspicion feel inconvenient.
Global distribution for Starlight Falls III.
Animation and streaming development backed by teams that already have the pipelines Blake's been building toward for years.
Merchandising infrastructure he wouldn't have to assemble from nothing.
International localization support that could keep another launch from eating him alive one language build at a time.
Long-term funding channels structured through a social-impact arm that could stabilize Ember House without Blake emptying himself quarter after quarter to keep it protected.
Victor glances at Blake's left hand where it rests near the tablet, zoning in on my Delta’s wedding band.
"The family structure is compelling at this scale," he says, the observation dressed as admiration.
"A married founder with deep community ties and a sanctuary that reflects the company's values.
Investors respond to that kind of visible commitment. "
Blake's ring taps once against the edge of his tablet. "My marriage isn't a value proposition."
Victor's smile doesn't waver. "Of course not. I only mean the stability is evident,” Victor says, hands folded on the table, gaze returning to me again as he speaks. "Not control. Alpha to Alpha, I think you understand the value of choosing allies before the market forces your hand."
Blake's fingers still against the edge of his tablet.
I lean back in my chair. "Blake understands market force. He built the company you're asking to partner with."
Victor turns smoothly, as if he'd always intended to give Blake the floor.
"Of course. Blake, your architecture is remarkable.
What you've created with Starlight Falls has the kind of emotional resonance most studios try and fail to manufacture.
It's rare to see a creator retain that much intimacy with a world at this scale. "
The praise is precise. That's part of what bothers me. It sounds respectful. It might even be sincere. But there's a softness in the way he shapes creator, as if the word places Blake somewhere adjacent to the real machinery of the room.
Blake hears it. His expression doesn't change, but his scent does.
Dorian takes over with a gentler smile, turning his tablet so Blake can see the mock-ups.
"The opportunity here isn't just expansion.
It's translation. You've already built trust with your audience, and that trust has a family-facing identity that can grow internationally without losing its emotional center.
The audience doesn't only want the game. They want the story around the game."
Blake looks down at the slide. I can see the moment his mind catches despite himself.
His eyes move quickly over the localization map, the development timeline, the streaming projections.
He hates them for the title. He hates the way they keep glancing at me when governance comes up.
But the machine they're offering is real, and Blake's spent too many nights holding broken systems together with caffeine and sheer will to pretend he doesn't understand what those resources could do.
Dorian sees the spark and leans toward it. "Creators like you shouldn't have to spend their time wrestling with infrastructure. You should be building worlds, Blake. We can take the distribution weight, the international coordination, the scalable brand architecture."
"There's that word again," Blake says.
Dorian pauses. "Scalable?"
"Architecture," Blake says, though his mouth curves without humor. "People use it when they want my code, my audience, and my launch schedule, but not necessarily my decisions."
The room stills for a fraction of a second.
Dorian's smile warms by a practiced degree. "I can understand why you'd be protective. You have every right to be. The goal isn't to diminish your authority. It's to make sure your vision survives scale."
His answer's good. Too good. It gives Blake respect without giving him certainty.
Victor shifts his attention back to me. "Final governance would, of course, be aligned through your executive structure. We assumed a dual-channel process, with you as principal liaison given the broader family holdings."
"There's no assumption needed," I say. "Operational decisions stay with Blake. Legal review goes through Maceo. Family and sanctuary questions go through all of us."
Victor inclines his head. "A council model."
"A pack model."
That earns the first real silence of the meeting. Not long. Not enough to be rude. Just long enough for me to see Victor adjust the room in his head.
Dorian recovers first, his gaze moving to Blake again.
"Then the pack model's something we'd want to honor.
Especially with Ember House. There's a powerful story there, one that aligns naturally with Starlight Falls' themes of recovery, found family, and rebuilding after harm.
We'd never exploit residents. We'd elevate the mission. "
My instincts go cold.
Blake's hand stops tapping against his tablet. "Explain elevate."
Dorian folds his hands. "Social-impact campaigns. Family-forward content. Carefully approved profiles, if appropriate. Donor-facing materials that show the sanctuary's work without compromising its integrity. Audiences respond to authenticity. Investors do too."