Toby

Vicky

We stepped out of the room, the familiar creak of the hardwood floor underfoot guiding us toward the pantry just off the kitchen. The air shifted from the intimate musk of my suite to the warm, inviting aroma of fresh coffee, buttery pastries, and sizzling bacon.

A large breakfast table was already set, sprawling with platters of food. Toby’s eyes widened, a low whistle escaping his lips as he slid into a chair across from me, the wood groaning slightly under his solid frame.

I grabbed a plate and piled it high, the clatter of dishes and the scrape of forks filling the silence as we dug in, the morning light streaming through the window above the club below.

"This apartment’s still the one right above the club, huh?" Toby mumbled through a mouthful of pancake, his brow furrowing as if he were piecing together the blurry edges of last night. "I don’t even remember how I got here."

I smirked, sipping my coffee. "Yeah, same old place. You stumbled up the stairs sometime after midnight, reeking of whiskey and howling my name like a lost pup. And now that you’re here, I’m heading down to the office after this. I’ll get your contract ready. You in for real?"

He nodded, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "Guess I am."

"Great. Want to rehearse with Petry? He’s a genius—choreographer and costume designer rolled into one. What character you feeling? Fireman? Lumberjack?"

Toby’s fork paused mid-air, a grin tugging at his lips. "Do you really need all that?"

"Absolutely," I said, popping a grape into my mouth. "I work with women’s fetishes—catering to what gets their pulses racing. Top picks are police officers, lifeguards, gangsters, priests… you name it, they drool over it."

"How crazy," he laughed, shaking his head. "Guess I’m gonna become a werewolf then!"

"No transformations, Toby," I warned. "You know the rules. Lycans don’t let humans in on the existence of other beings. No glowing eyes, no claws, no sprouting fur—keep it strictly human-hot."

"I know, I know," he sighed, leaning back in his chair with a mock pout. "But I’ve never even seen a lycan myself. Not a real one, anyway."

"Things are what they are," I said, shrugging. "I don’t want to risk it and see something I can’t unsee. Let’s just keep the magic offstage, yeah?"

"Fine, boss," he teased, his voice dropping into a playful growl. "How about a free sample, then? For you, special preview—right here, right now."

I snorted, nearly choking on my coffee. "No, for the love of— Toby, when I’m drunk, sure, I might grab you and make bad decisions. But sober? You look like I’m kissing my brother. Argh, no thanks."

His grin turned wicked, golden eyes glinting with mischief. "You practically swallowed me whole last night, you naughty girl."

I rolled my eyes, but heat crept up my neck anyway. "I missed you, okay? That’s my excuse. But I don’t mix work with dating—club rule number one. Now you’re one of my baby boys, officially on the payroll. Hahaha, welcome to the team."

Toby

In my own way, I loved Vitória. Of course, we mixed up our relationship a bit. We were like that ever since we started to see each other as more than just kids raised in a nightclub. Her adoptive mother and my human mother were prostitutes, but they never wanted us to follow that path.

I didn't know who my father or mother was. But when I transformed at 16, my mother figured out who I was. I didn't know anything about wolves, other than knowing they existed. But my father found out as soon as I transformed and came to get me. He was from the Rio Verde pack. He came to the capital on a mission, got drunk, had sex with my mother, and left. Seven months later I was born, and 16 years later, he came back to take me.

I thought that was nice of him, but living with his partner and his legitimate, pure-blood children was a pain. I went to live alone in the pack's house, and even though I was a gamma, my father trained me as a warrior. My big problem is that I'm addicted to gambling and betting, and I've lost a few and got into debt, but I'll get out of this soon, especially if Vicky pays me back for all of it.

It's good to be back here, my mother has also passed away, but Aunt Madonna would be shocked to see Vicky taking over her role at the nightclub. She always told her to sell everything and buy apartments and live off the rental income. But Vicky is making a lot of money and has taken the business to the next level. I thought I'd come to the wrong place when I walked through the doors, the name is the same, Pink Panther, but everything is luxurious, well decorated, well lit, almost like a tea room for ladies with shows.

But only women enter and only men work. And here the young ladies and ladies transform themselves. It is men who are used, harassed, objects of desire. I even feel embarrassed with so many horny ladies.

I'm fine with the young women, but the ones in their 40s and 50s make me feel like I'm seducing my mother. I'm not a puritan, but it's a bit uncomfortable.

Yesterday I even thought I was entering a birthday party. If the security guard at the door, Mike, didn't know me from the past, I wouldn't even have been allowed in. It was only when I saw my hottie on the table, in a vodka-chugging competition, that I felt at home. When she saw me, she jumped into my arms and we drank them all.

After we sang I will survive, our favorite song, I don't even know how she got me. Now I'm here, torn between asking her to marry me or waiting for my mate, if she even exists. The Moon Goddess could make up for it and help me find my mate. We werewolves have mates who are like soulmates. They complete us completely and we don't want anyone else.

Usually, we recognize each other instantly and you can't refuse the person the goddess herself has destined for you. But sometimes, our mates die and we are blessed with a second chance mate.

At 18, werewolves can already recognize each other. And we go to parties held by other packs to see if our chosen ones are from there, or even to the annual party that the werewolf king throws so that all the packs can get together and get rid of those who haven't found their mate yet.

This year we haven't had this big party yet. The king is new and, perhaps, doesn't want to continue the tradition. This event was my last hope of mating.

But, if nothing worked out, I had promised Vicky that I would marry her.

And I didn't care about us getting married, just like on paper, but I did care about taking care of Vicky until she died and she knew that.

Because we werewolves last much, much longer than humans and my loving friend wasn't going to end her life alone like she, cowardly, had to start. She was wonderful, sweet, gentle, authentic, and good-humored, but she carried the sadness of having been rejected by her own mother and father. She was put in a bag in the trash. You can imagine that there is a huge void inside her.

And I will never let that void swallow her even if I find my mate. She will have to accept Vicky as her sister-in-law or nothing will happen. She is my family as much as my father.

I spent years convincing him of this and we are waiting for Alpha Edy's authorization to take her to the pack, and he is very careful about the people he lets in to visit. Because one day, maybe, I would marry her or take her to live with my family until she dies and everyone would accept and respect her as my sister and a member of Rio Verde.

That was my plan.

Unless she married someone, but she runs away from that. She has a lot of trouble getting into serious relationships. For now, she may think she's happy like this, but one day, things will be different. And I can't leave her alone, because she only has me.

Thinking about poor Vicky, I open the door to her office without knocking.

And I see a guy giving her a foot massage, another one on her back, another one handing her a drink. And another one dancing for her.

That's right...

Poor Vicky, but not really, right?

She was drooling over the guy when she saw me and even choked in fright.