Public appearance

Orion's Pov:

Three hours later, after a punishing workout - that was responsible for my chiseled body that made the girls of New York go gaga over me - and a cold shower that did nothing to banish the lingering unease, I made my way to the expansive balcony of my penthouse.

The morning sun bathes the outdoor dining area in golden light, highlighting the artfully arranged breakfast spread—a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside me.

I expected to see my entire inner circle already assembled, the five people I trust most in this world.

Instead, only Regina sits at the glass table, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders as she scrolls through something on the tablet.

"Where are the others?" I ask, sliding into the chair beside her.

Regina looks up, her emerald eyes meeting mine. "Caught up with their respective issues. I called them all, but you know how it is." She sets down her tablet, studying me with that penetrating gaze that always makes me feel like she's seeing through the facade I present to the rest of the world. "Nightmares again?"

I sigh, reaching for the carafe of coffee. The dark liquid pours into my cup, steam rising like the ghosts that haunt my dreams. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who knows what to look for."

Regina is one of the few people who know about the strange dreams that haunt me. I trust her and the rest of my inner circle implicitly—they're not just my advisors but my friends, the ones who see me as Orion the man, not just Orion the Alpha of the Lockwood Pack.

But the thought of others discovering my weakness makes me cringe.

Alphas are supposed to be strong, unshakeable—the immovable mountain against which all threats break. We don't get nightmares that leave us gasping for breath. We don't wake up with tears streaming down our faces, mourning a woman who was probably not real.

"You should really visit my aunt who's a psychic," Regina suggests, not for the first time. "She's specifically gifted with dream interpretation and past life connections. She could help you understand what these dreams mean."

I shake my head, pouring too much cream into my coffee. "I don't believe in that stuff, Regina. Past lives? Dream prophecies? It's all just subconscious processing of daily stressors."

"But you believe in me, right?" Regina reaches across the table, her warm hand covering mine. I can't help but smile at that.

Regina has always been more than just a friend to me. For the past year, she's also been my lover—a stabilizing force in my once chaotic life. Before dating her, I was the classic playboy Alpha, making appearances at every club opening, never spending more than a night with any woman.

My father despised me for breaking women's hearts.

But Regina changed that. She taught me the value of stability, of having someone who understood the pressures of our world. Being with her feels comfortable, easy—like driving my favourite sports car.

There's just one problem - she's not my mate.

Not the one the Moon Goddess destined for me.

It would have been so convenient if she were. Regina comes from old money like me, her werewolf bloodline is one of the strongest in North America, and she understands pack politics better than anyone I know. On paper, we're perfect together.

But my wolf knows she's not the one. And deep in my heart, I'm beginning to suspect that the woman from my dreams—the one whose death I relive night after night—might be my true mate.

Which is insane, because I've never seen anyone who looks like her in my waking life. And she wasn't even probably real!

"Come on, Orion. At least say something." Regina's voice pulls me back to the present, her fingers tightening around mine. "You like me, I like you. My parents are billionaires like yours, I'm from a strong werewolf bloodline. Why can't we just renounce our future mates if they ever come in the future and just be with each other?"

The question hangs between us, heavy with implications.

Renouncing one's fated mate is technically possible, but rarely done. The bond between true mates is sacred in werewolf culture—so many don't reject it, unless they already have someone they love.

"I—I can't do that," I say finally, meeting her gaze. "It's not that I don't love you Regina. But I strongly feel obligated to serve someone else - the one that is fated for me." I squeeze her hand gently. "Regina, you know you'll always be one of my closest friends. You're one of the most important people in my life."

I brace myself for the hurt in her eyes, the anger, maybe even tears. But Regina surprises me, as she often does. After a moment's silence, she simply smiles—a bit sadly, perhaps, but without bitterness.

"As you wish, my friend," she says, her voice steady. "But you still need a date for the event tonight. The press will be there covering you."

The art gala—how could I have forgotten? As one of the most prominent businessmen in New York, my attendance is mandatory. And showing up alone would only fuel the gossip rags in among humans that already speculate endlessly about my love life.

"Yeah, you can be my date," I say, relieved by her flexibility. It's one of the many things I admire about Regina—her ability to adapt, to take life's disappointments in stride.

She raises her coffee cup in a mock toast. "To friendship, then."

"To friendship," I echo, clinking my cup against hers.

Hours later, I stand in the grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel, Regina resplendent beside me in a jade gown that matches her eyes. Camera flashes explode around us as we pose for the press, my arm draped casually around her waist. To the world, we look like the perfect power couple—a powerful businessman and his elegant companion, both draped in designer formal wear, both wearing practiced smiles that reveal nothing of the complicated truth between us.

"Mr. Lockwood," a reporter calls out, "to what do you attribute your pack's unprecedented economic growth this quarter?"

I slip easily into my public persona, the charming, confident CEO that everyone expects. "I credit our success to the meaningful connections we've cultivated—with my parents who taught me the value of strategic thinking, with my inner circle who challenge me daily, and with supportive friends like Regina who remind me that life isn't all about work and success."

Regina squeezes my hand slightly, our private signal that I've hit just the right note of personal without being revealing.

The cameras flash again, capturing the image we want the world to see. Not the man who wakes up screaming, haunted by dreams of a woman he's never met but somehow loves with his entire soul.

No one here would believe that the poised, powerful Orion Lockwood is slowly being undone by visions of green eyes and whispered promises from a thousand years ago.

.

However, Orion Lockwood remained unaware that the green eyes from his haunting dreams were observing him on a television screen thousands of miles away from New York City.