2. Osias #2
“I’ve seen their work,” he said slowly, his mind already shifting gears. “The storytelling is genuine.”
It was the highest compliment he gave to any creative endeavor. In an industry built on manufactured emotion and focus-group-tested narratives, Bates Films produced stories that felt like they’d been pulled from real life rather than assembled in boardrooms.
The hunger gnawing at his stomach suddenly felt less urgent than the curiosity building in his chest. If Celina Bates was personally involved in those productions—if she was the creative force behind that level of authenticity—then this meeting represented something far more interesting than celebrity networking.
“Fine.” The decision crystallized with the same quiet certainty that had guided every major choice in his life. “I’ll cancel my nine o’clock to take her meeting.”
Pell’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he offered a small nod of gratitude before turning toward his own car—a sensible sedan that perfectly matched his practical approach to life.
Osias was already instinctively reaching for his Ferrari’s door handle when he caught sight of a familiar silhouette leaning against the driver’s side.
His twin sister stood with her arms crossed, her expression carrying the combination of affection and exasperation that had defined their relationship since childhood.
Through their twin bond—that inexplicable connection that had allowed them to communicate without words since they were children—he felt her emotional state like a low-grade fever. Concern. Frustration. The specific brand of protective anger that meant someone had threatened their family.
He immediately altered course. “What’s wrong?”
The question came out sharper than he’d intended, but seeing Lissa upset triggered every protective instinct he possessed.
She was the emotional heart of their pride, the person who smoothed conflicts and built bridges where he created walls.
When something disturbed her equilibrium, it usually meant the entire family was about to feel the aftershocks.
“It’s Braxton.” Her voice carried the weight of someone who’d been carrying bad news for too long. “He’s gotten himself into trouble again, and we need to smooth it over before it leaks to the press.”
Osias felt his jaw clench as familiar frustration surged through his chest. For fifteen years he’d been cleaning up after his stepbrother’s impulsive decisions, covering financial mistakes, smoothing over conflicts with directors, and quietly managing the fallout from Braxton’s constant need for attention and validation.
The pride had maintained their supernatural secret for generations, blending seamlessly into Hollywood’s elite while carefully avoiding the kind of scrutiny that could expose their true nature.
It required discipline, discretion, and an understanding that individual desires sometimes had to yield to collective safety.
But Braxton had never fully grasped that concept.
“What did he do this time?” The question came out flat, carrying the weariness of someone who’d had this conversation too many times before.
Lissa’s expression tightened with the frustration reserved for family members who refused to learn from their mistakes.
“He’s been trying to generate more social media engagement—you know how he gets when his follower numbers start dropping.
He made some comments about lions during a livestream yesterday.
Nothing outright, but enough that someone with the right background might start asking questions. ”
The words hit Osias like ice water. Social media was a minefield for their kind, a platform where casual comments could be screenshotted, analyzed, and spread across the internet faster than any damage control could contain them.
One careless reference to their true nature, one moment of supernatural strength caught on camera, one photograph that revealed too much, and their entire world could collapse.
“He needs to understand that his fame doesn’t exist in a vacuum.” Osias’s voice carried the controlled anger of an Alpha who’d reached the limits of his patience. “Every decision he makes affects the entire pride.”
“I know.” Lissa stepped closer, her hand briefly touching his arm in a gesture of support and shared frustration. “But you know how he gets when he feels like he’s being managed.”
She was right, of course. Braxton had spent years chafing under what he perceived as Osias’s control, interpreting every attempt at guidance as evidence that he wasn’t trusted or respected.
The dynamic had created a cycle where Braxton’s need for independence led to increasingly reckless behavior, which in turn required more intervention, which fed his resentment.
It was exhausting for everyone involved.
“Fine.” Osias exhaled slowly, already mentally rearranging his schedule to accommodate yet another family crisis. “I’ll handle it. I’ll talk to him tonight.”
Lissa’s relief was immediate and visible, her shoulders dropping as the tension she’d been carrying found an outlet. She stepped forward and wrapped him in a quick, fierce hug—the kind of embrace that communicated years of shared burdens and mutual support.
“Thank you,” she murmured against his shoulder. “I know you’re already carrying too much, but—“
“Family comes first.” The words were automatic, a principle that had guided every major decision in his life since their father’s death. “Always.”
She pulled back with a smile that carried both gratitude and the lingering worry that never quite left her eyes when it came to Braxton. “I’ll see you later. Try to eat something, okay? You look like you haven’t had a real meal in days.”
Before he could respond, she was already walking toward her own car, her stride carrying the purposeful energy of someone who had a dozen other problems to solve before sunset.
Osias stood alone in the parking lot, the weight of responsibility settling back onto his shoulders with familiar heaviness.
The Ferrari’s red paint gleamed in the afternoon sun, a splash of color that seemed almost defiant against the muted tones of everything else in his life.
He finally moved to open the car door and slid into the driver’s seat, the leather interior still warm from hours of California sunshine.
He started the luxury vehicle and the engine purred to life with a controlled power that had always appealed to his lion—strength held in careful check, ready to be unleashed when circumstances demanded it.
As he pulled out of the parking lot and began the winding drive through the canyon roads toward his mansion, his mind drifted back to Pell’s unexpected request.
Celina Bates.
The name carried weight beyond simple celebrity recognition, though he couldn’t quite identify why. Something about the meeting tomorrow felt significant because his lion remained restless, prowling beneath his skin with an energy that suggested anticipation rather than anxiety.
What could she possibly want with me?
The question followed him through the curves of Mulholland Drive, past the sprawling estates and carefully manicured landscapes that marked the territory of Hollywood’s elite. Whatever her reasons for requesting the meeting, tomorrow would provide answers.
For now, he had a stepbrother to manage and a pride to protect. The same responsibilities that had defined his life for fifteen years, carried with the same quiet determination that had never once wavered.
But beneath the familiar weight of duty, something new stirred. A sense that change was approaching.