Chapter 6

Richard

Michael slammed the guest list shut, his composure completely gone. His eyes flashed gold—a dangerous sign of his control slipping.

"Damn it, she's not here!" he growled, scanning the list again as if her name would miraculously appear.

I leaned against his shoulder, the mysterious woman—Isabella's scent still lingering in my mind. My inner wolf paced restlessly, demanding I find her, claim her. The urge ran through my body like an electric current, making every muscle tense beneath my skin.

"Why isn't Isabella's name on here?" Michael demanded, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that made people instinctively back away, the air growing heavy with his anger.

Diana blinked, her perfectly manicured nails tapping nervously on the reception desk. "Who?"

"Isabella," Michael snapped, his patience clearly exhausted, "the dark-haired girl who left a few minutes ago."

Diana's eyes flickered between us, a flash of recognition crossing her features, followed by something else—something that triggered my instincts. Was that... satisfaction? Her lips curved slightly upward as if celebrating some small victory.

"Oh, her," she finally said, her tone dismissive, "I don't recall seeing her sign in."

Hearing her casual tone, my inner wolf lunged forward, and I felt my canines lengthen slightly. Anger pulsed through my veins with each heartbeat, pushing rationality aside. Diana must have sensed the change in my aura because she immediately lowered her head, instinctively displaying submission.

"You don't recall?" I stepped forward, my aura filling the reception area. Other staff members instinctively backed away, pressing themselves against the walls to avoid the anger I was emanating. I could feel my heart racing, my hands trembling slightly with rage. "You know every visitor needs to sign the list. It's pack law."

Diana's shoulders hunched slightly. "I must have forgotten."

"Forgotten?" I moved closer, watching her shrink. Her perfume mixed with the sour scent of fear stung my nostrils. "Do you realize what you've done? You let an unregistered omega into our club."

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Did you at least have her sign the pack confidentiality oath?" I cut her off, my voice dangerously low. The deep tone sent a shiver down even my own spine.

Her silence was answer enough.

"Are you trying to get fired?" I growled, the command in my voice making her tremble. Her face instantly paled, lips quivering slightly. "Because that's how you get fired."

Diana lowered her head further, exposing her neck in a typical submissive gesture. "Please forgive me, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Her voice was barely above a whisper, almost tearful.

Part of me knew I was overreacting, but my wolf was in a frenzy. The woman—Isabella—had walked into my club and then vanished. Every instinct in my body screamed to find her, to track her down before someone else claimed her. My chest tightened with the need, breathing becoming shallow as if my lungs couldn't pull in enough air.

Our territory. Our mate. Find her.

Michael suddenly looked around, his golden eyes scanning the reception area. "Hey, where did Kevin go?"

Diana's nostrils flared slightly, as if sensing the air. "He... he went outside." Her voice carried a hint of uncertainty, her eyes darting, avoiding direct contact with ours.

I frowned. Kevin rarely acted alone when tracking—and that's exactly what this felt like. We were hunting, searching, following the enticing scent of the most fascinating woman I'd ever encountered. I could feel that invisible pull, like an unseen rope connecting to my soul, pointing in the direction she'd left.

As if summoned by our thoughts, Kevin's massive frame suddenly appeared in the doorway. The tribal tattoos on his body seemed to writhe, his inner wolf dangerously close to the surface. I could even smell the mixture of leather, tobacco, and wilderness emanating from him, signaling his heightened state of alertness.

"Office," his thunderous voice said just the one word, but it carried an undeniable command.

My private office occupied the entire eastern corner of Erotic Paradise's third floor. Ancient wolf totems decorated the walls, the carved eyes seeming to follow our movements. All the furniture was handcrafted from silver pine harvested during full moons. Every time I entered this room, I could feel my wolf becoming more alert, more powerful beneath my skin.

I poured three glasses of aged whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the moonlight. The liquid slid down my throat with a warm sting that did nothing to ease the restlessness inside me. Kevin immediately lit a cigarette, the smoke twining around his tattooed neck like something alive, further intensifying the tension in the room.

"So," Michael took his glass and sank into a leather chair, "what's our next move? I need to see her again tonight." His voice carried an urgency I rarely heard from him, the gold in his eyes flickering unstably.

"Impossible," Kevin rumbled, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I have a pack meeting first thing tomorrow." His fingers gripped his glass tightly, knuckles white, revealing the conflict within.

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Where did you go just now?"

"Talked to the guards." Kevin's voice was barely audible, as usual. I could see the muscles in his jaw working, as if controlling himself from saying too much.

"Why would you—" Michael began, then realization dawned. "Oh. Smart."

My fingers drummed on the table, impatience growing. I could feel my heart rate increasing, the blood vessels at my temples throbbing. "What's her name? Full name?" My voice betrayed the urgency I couldn't hide.

Kevin took another drag of his cigarette, the ember briefly glowing. "Isabella Hart. Eighteen. Student at Silver Moon University." He weighted each word as if casting a spell.

"Oh?" Michael's eyes lit up, his professorial nature immediately engaged. "That's interesting..." His lips curved slightly upward, already analyzing the information in his mind.

I paced the office, unable to contain the restless energy surging through me. With each step, her image flashed in my mind—dark hair, pale skin, those large, bright eyes. "Fuck, she's barely eighteen. She might not be interested in old men like us."

Even as I said it, my wolf growled in disagreement. The connection I felt—we all felt—was undeniable. The way her scent called to us, how my body responded to her presence... this wasn't something age or experience could explain. It was a primal, instinctual attraction, as profound and irresistible as the moon's pull on the tides.

Michael chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Ten years is nothing to werewolves, especially considering who we are. Perhaps she'll appreciate experienced men." His voice was deep and magnetic, revealing a confident charm.

I stopped, considering his words. Blood rushed through my veins, each heartbeat calling her name. "But all three of us interested in the same woman? That's rare. Most female werewolves can only bond with one male wolf. If we all pursue her, we might scare her away. At least we can agree on that..." My voice mixed with conflicting emotions of desire and concern.

"What if she's a Golden Omega?" Kevin's voice cut through the room like a knife, sharp and direct.

The question hung in the air, pregnant with implications.

Golden Omegas were creatures of pack legend—extremely rare werewolves capable of forming multiple mate bonds without mental collapse.

My heart nearly leaped from my chest, a wave of heat flooding my entire body.