6. Osias
SIX
OSIAS
The warmth of Celina’s hand beneath his felt like the most natural thing in the world, and for a moment Osias allowed himself to simply exist in this perfect bubble of connection with his mate.
Her vulnerability about losing her mother had cracked something open in his chest—a recognition so profound it made his lion restless with the need to comfort and protect.
The parallel between their stories struck him with startling clarity.
He had built Fellan Entertainment fifteen years ago in honor of his mother Eva, who had died when he was only thirteen.
Like Celina, he had channeled his grief into creating something meaningful, something that honored the woman who had shaped his understanding of authentic storytelling.
His mother had believed that stories were how people remembered who they were, and every project he funded carried a piece of that legacy forward.
The way Celina spoke about her mother—with love and loss intertwined—made him want to share his own story, to tell her about Eva’s infectious curiosity and how she had filled their pride’s home with laughter and impossible ideas.
But revealing too much too soon would mean explaining things she wasn’t ready to hear.
His thumb traced across her knuckles as he studied her face in the restaurant’s warm lighting.
She looked stunning in that emerald sundress, the color making her green eyes luminous, but it was the unguarded emotion in her expression that made his chest tighten with something deeper than attraction.
When was the last time he had sat in one place for this long and enjoyed every second of it? When had he last forgotten about his overpacked schedule, his endless responsibilities, and his phone buzzing with urgent messages?
Never. Not once in fifteen years.
But with Celina, time seemed to slow and expand, creating space for something he hadn’t realized he was starving for.
He found himself imagining more evenings like this—quiet dinners where she told him about her day, where he could watch her face light up when she discussed projects she was passionate about, where the carefully constructed walls around both their hearts could finally come down.
His lion purred with contentment, recognizing the rightness of this moment even as his rational mind cataloged all the reasons why pursuing his mate would complicate everything.
His schedule was impossible. His pride demanded constant attention.
His stepbrother created new crises weekly.
And Celina lived in a world of constant scrutiny where every relationship became tabloid fodder.
But suddenly none of it mattered. She was his mate, and he would find a way to make everything else work around that fundamental truth.
“Celina.”
The sharp voice cut through their intimate moment like a blade, and Osias felt Celina’s hand jerk away from his as her entire body tensed.
A man approached their secluded table with the confident stride of someone accustomed to having his interruptions welcomed, and Osias’s lion immediately rose to attention.
The newcomer was tall, impeccably dressed, and carried himself with a polished authority that came from decades of wielding influence. But there was something in his dark eyes—something possessive and calculating—that made every protective instinct in Osias’s body flare to life.
Lion shifter.
The recognition hit him instantly, along with a surge of territorial aggression that took all his self-control to contain. This man’s scent carried the unmistakable signature of their kind, but more concerning was the way he looked at Celina. Like she belonged to him.
“We need to leave,” the man said without preamble, his tone carrying the expectation of immediate compliance.
Celina’s withdrawal was so complete it was physically painful to witness.
The vibrant, unguarded woman who had been sharing her grief and dreams just moments before seemed to fold in on herself, becoming smaller and more careful.
Through their mate bond, Osias could feel her emotions—fury, annoyance, but underneath it all, a thread of worry that made his jaw clench.
Every instinct screamed at him to stand up, to physically place himself between this man and his mate, to make it clear that no one had the right to speak to her that way. But something in Celina’s posture warned him that inserting himself too aggressively might make things worse for her.
Instead, he kept his voice level and looked directly at her, deliberately excluding the intruder from the conversation. “Celina, what do you want to do?”
The question seemed to surprise her, and he watched her glance nervously at the man before straightening slightly in her chair. “Rennick, I’m not leaving. Osias and I are still discussing our partnership.”
So this was Rennick Hale. Her manager who had clearly controlled every aspect of Celina’s life since she was a rising child star. Osias’s lion snarled silently, recognizing an enemy.
Rennick’s carefully controlled expression cracked slightly, revealing genuine shock beneath his polished exterior. “What partnership? You didn’t run anything by me.”
“I met with Osias this morning,” Celina said, her voice gaining strength even as her hands trembled slightly. “He’s agreed to collaborate with me and invest in Bates Films.”
The news hit Rennick like a slap. His composure slipped further, and Osias caught a glimpse of something ugly beneath the surface—not just surprise, but fury at being excluded from a decision that affected his client.
“I wish you would have told me before making a major decision like that,” Rennick said, his voice tight with barely controlled anger.
“I need you focused on your acting career and your upcoming Oscar campaign. You don’t have time for Bates Films. Maybe you should really just stop with this silly fantasy of being a producer. ”
The words hit Celina like a punch, and Osias watched in horror as the confident woman he’d been getting to know retreated completely. Her shoulders curved inward, her eyes dropped to the table, and every spark of joy that had illuminated her face throughout the evening was suddenly extinguished.
This was what thirty years of emotional manipulation looked like. This was how Rennick maintained control—by making Celina doubt herself, by dismissing her dreams as frivolous, by reminding her that her value lay only in being the perfect, manageable actress he had created.
Osias’s control snapped.
“I think you should leave,” he said quietly, his voice carrying the kind of authority that made board rooms fall silent and competitors reconsider their strategies.
Rennick’s head whipped toward him, shock replacing calculation. Clearly, he wasn’t used to being challenged, especially not by someone willing to stand up to him on Celina’s behalf.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Osias’s blue eyes flashed with barely contained gold, and his voice dropped to the register that made even other Alphas step back. “Maybe you can continue this discussion later, but right now, you need to leave.”
For a moment, the two men stared at each other across the table—one possessive manager who had built his identity around controlling a famous client, and one Alpha who had just recognized a threat to his mate.
The tension was thick enough to cut, and Osias could see other diners in their section beginning to notice the confrontation.
Rennick’s jaw worked silently as he processed the dismissal, his eyes darting between Osias’s implacable expression and the curious stares they were beginning to attract. Finally, his survival instincts won out over his outrage.
“Celina,” Rennick said, his voice tight with barely suppressed fury, “we will finish this discussion tomorrow.”
He turned and stalked away without another word, leaving behind the acrid scent of anger and wounded pride.
Osias immediately turned his attention back to Celina, who looked visibly shaken by the encounter. Her hands were trembling, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said quietly. “Rennick is my manager—has been since I was four years old. He gets pretty protective, and I didn’t exactly tell him I was meeting with you, so it’s understandable that he would be upset.”
The automatic defense of Rennick’s behavior made Osias’s chest burn with protective rage, but he forced himself to speak calmly.
“Celina.” He waited until she looked at him. “First, don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. Rennick was completely out of line. And second, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
She nodded, but he could see the doubt in her eyes, the years of conditioning that made her question her own judgment.
The evening was ruined, and they both knew it.
The intimate connection they’d been building lay in pieces around them, destroyed by one man’s need to maintain control over Celina’s life.
“How about I take you home?” Osias said gently. “I’m sure it’s been a long day, and you must be tired.”
He stood and extended his hand, hoping to restore some small measure of the closeness they’d shared before Rennick’s interruption. She accepted his help standing, but her smile was strained and distant.
“My bodyguard Trent is outside,” she said. “He can take me home. But thank you for the offer. Maybe we could meet tomorrow? I have the day off, and we could have lunch.”
Osias thought about his schedule—back-to-back meetings, a conference call with international distributors, and three different crisis management sessions related to Braxton’s latest publicity stunt.
Under normal circumstances, he would never consider canceling such important commitments. But these weren’t normal circumstances.
“I can clear my schedule for you,” he said, meaning every word.