Chapter 6

Richard

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

"Fuck, she's not here!" he growled, scanning the list again as if her name might magically appear.

I leaned over his shoulder, the scent of that mysterious woman—Isabella—still haunting me. The wolf inside me paced restlessly, demanding I find her, claim her, mark her as mine. That urge coursed through my entire 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 others instinctively step back, the air growing heavy with his anger.

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

"Isabella," Michael snapped, his patience visibly exhausted, "the black-haired girl who left just minutes ago."

Diana's eyes darted between us, a flash of recognition followed by something else—something that set my instincts on edge. Was that... satisfaction in her eyes? Her lips curved slightly upward, as if celebrating a small victory.

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

At her casual tone, the wolf within me lunged forward, and I felt my canines slightly extend. My anger surged through my veins with each pulse, pushing rationality aside. Diana must have sensed the shift in my energy, because she immediately lowered her gaze, instinctively submitting.

"You don't recall?" I stepped forward, my aura filling the reception area. Other staff members instinctively backed away, pressing themselves against walls to avoid my radiating anger. I could feel my heart rate accelerating, my hands trembling slightly with rage. "You know every visitor needs to put their name on the list. That'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, stinging my nostrils. "Do you realize what you've done? You let an unidentified omega enter our club without proper registration."

"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. That deep tone made even my own spine tingle.

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 this is exactly how you get fired."

Diana's head dropped lower, her neck exposed in a typical submission posture. "Please forgive me, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Her voice was barely a whisper, almost tearful.

The rational part of my brain knew I was overreacting, but my wolf was in a frenzy. That 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 this need, my breathing becoming rapid, as if my lungs couldn't get enough air.

Our territory. Our mate. Find her.

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

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

I frowned. Kevin rarely acted independently during tracking—and that's exactly what this felt like. We were hunting, searching, following the intoxicating scent trail of the most captivating woman I'd ever encountered. I could feel that invisible pull, like an unseen rope connecting my soul, pointing toward the direction she'd left.

As if summoned by our thoughts, Kevin's massive frame suddenly filled the doorway. The tribal tattoos on his body seemed to writhe as the wolf within him dangerously approached the surface. The air around him crackled with raw, dangerous energy. I could even smell that mix of leather, tobacco, and wilderness emanating from him, signaling his heightened state of alertness.

"Office," his thunderous voice uttered just this one word, yet it carried an undeniable command.

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

I poured three glasses of aged whiskey, the amber liquid gleaming in the moonlight. The liquid slid down my throat, bringing a warm, stinging sensation that did nothing to ease my inner restlessness. Kevin immediately lit a cigarette, the smoke coiling around his tattooed neck like a living thing. The strong tobacco scent filled the air, carrying a hint of his signature masculine aura, intensifying the tension in the room.

"So," Michael accepted his glass and settled 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 golden glow in his eyes flickering unpredictably.

"Not possible," Kevin murmured, exhaling a plume of smoke. "I have a pack meeting early tomorrow." His fingers gripped the glass tightly, knuckles whitening, revealing his inner conflict.

Michael raised an eyebrow. "Where did you go earlier?"

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

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

My fingers drummed on the desk, impatience growing stronger. I could feel my heartbeat quickening, the blood vessels at my temples pulsing. "What's her name? Her full name?" My voice betrayed an undisguisable eagerness.

Kevin took another drag from his cigarette, the ember briefly glowing brighter. "Isabella Hart. Eighteen. Silver Moon University student." He said each word with weighty significance, as if reciting an incantation.

"Oh?" Michael's eyes lit up, his professorial nature immediately engaged. "That's quite interesting..." His lips curved into a slight smile, his mind already analyzing this information.

I paced back and forth in my office, unable to contain the restless energy surging through me. With each step, images of her flashed in my mind—raven hair, alabaster skin, those large, bright eyes. "Fuck, she just turned eighteen. She probably has no interest in older men like us."

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

Michael chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Ten years isn't much for werewolves, especially considering our lifespan. Perhaps she'd appreciate experienced men." His voice was deep and magnetic, revealing a confident charm.

I paused, 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 werewolf. If we all pursue her, we might scare her away. At least we can agree on that..." My voice mixed contradictory emotions, both desire and concern.

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

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication.

Golden Omegas were the stuff of pack legends—extraordinarily rare werewolves who could form multiple mate bonds without suffering mental breakdown.

My heart nearly leapt from my chest, a wave of heat coursing through my entire body.