Chapter 5

Richard

I leaned against the balcony railing of the Moonlight Hall, nursing my third whiskey of the evening.

The amber liquid burned pleasantly down my throat, but did nothing to ease the restlessness clawing at my insides. Below, the main floor of Erotic Paradise buzzed with unbonded women exploring the club during our rare open night. I should have felt something—interest, anticipation, desire—but all I could muster was boredom.

Three fucking years of searching. Three years wasted on worthless candidates.

Three years of interviewing, meeting, and dismissing potential mates. The novelty of owning the most exclusive werewolf establishment in Silver Moon City had worn thin. What good was all this power, this territory, this fucking empire when I couldn't find a single Omega worthy of my mark? My wolf paced restlessly within, growing more impatient with each passing day.

"You coming to the wedding this weekend?" Michael's voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"What?" I blinked, forcing myself to focus on my friend's face instead of the parade of mediocrity below us.

"My father's wedding." Michael rolled his eyes. "Are you coming? Please don't make me suffer alone." He gave an exaggerated shiver. "Diana will be there too."

Kevin, massive and tattooed, took a long drag from his cigarette before speaking in that barely audible rumble of his. "Is this his fifth?"

"Sixth," Michael corrected, disgust twisting his handsome features. "He's marrying a twenty-year-old this time. Barely older than my younger sister Sofia."

"Fucking pig," I snorted, swirling the whiskey in my glass. "Must be nice being that rich."

"Tell me about it..." Michael's voice suddenly trailed off as his eyes locked on something below. His entire body tensed, going completely still like a predator that had just spotted prey.

I followed his gaze, curiosity piqued by his sudden change in demeanor. That's when I saw her—a young woman I'd never seen before, sitting at the bar with Violet.

Holy fucking shit.

My wolf slammed against my consciousness with a ferocity I'd never experienced, clawing and snarling to be released. The glass in my hand cracked under the sudden pressure of my grip, whiskey spilling over my fingers. I barely noticed the sting.

She was exquisite—raven-black hair cascading down her back like liquid silk, skin as white and flawless as porcelain, and a body that made my cock harden instantly. Her breasts strained against the simple fabric of her dress, full and perfect, her waist impossibly narrow before flaring out to hips that were made for a man's hands—for my hands. Her lips were plump and pink, slightly parted as she spoke to Violet, and I found myself imagining those same lips wrapped around my cock, or gasping my name.

Jesus Christ, look at those fucking curves. I bet she's wet and tight and perfect.

Even from this distance, her scent reached me—sweet and intoxicating, like nothing I'd ever encountered before. My mouth watered, and my wolf howled, recognizing something primal and essential that my human mind couldn't yet comprehend.

As if sensing our attention, she stood from her barstool, and the movement nearly knocked the breath from my lungs. Her ass was a perfect heart shape, and her thighs pressed together as she moved, making my hands itch to spread them apart. The simple black dress she wore might as well have been transparent for how it clung to every delicious curve, riding up just enough to reveal thighs I wanted wrapped around my waist.

Before I could collect myself, she exchanged a few words with Violet and hurried toward the exit, her scent trailing behind her like an invitation my body couldn't refuse. My cock throbbed painfully against my zipper, and I had to adjust myself discreetly.

"Who the fuck was that?" Michael's voice was strained, his eyes tracking her every movement, glowing faintly gold in the moonlight. His breathing had quickened, and I could see his pulse hammering in his throat. The usually composed professor was coming undone.

"I have no idea." My wolf howled inside me, recognizing something I couldn't yet name. The primal message was clear: Mine. Mine. MINE.

"She's..." Kevin's voice, so rarely heard, was rougher than usual. His massive hands gripped the railing so hard the metal groaned in protest. Though he said nothing more, the bulge in his pants and the intense golden glow of his eyes spoke volumes.

Without discussion, we moved as one. Kevin's tattoos seemed to ripple across his skin as his wolf pushed closer to the surface. Michael, usually the most relaxed of us, moved with predatory grace, all traces of his easygoing professor persona vanished. I could feel my own canines lengthening slightly, my heart racing as if I'd run miles.

We descended the stairs, our combined Alpha auras clearing a path through the crowd. Lesser wolves flattened themselves against walls or hurriedly stepped aside, instinctively submitting to the force of our presence. I caught Violet near the bar, still looking toward the exit with a puzzled expression.

"Violet," I demanded, unable to keep the urgency from my voice. "That woman you were just speaking with—who is she?"

Her eyes widened slightly at my tone. "Isabella?"

"How should I know?" I snapped, my patience nonexistent. "The woman who just ran out of here like the building was on fire. Was that her?"

"Yes, that was Isabella." Violet's eyebrows rose slightly at my intensity. "Tonight is her eighteenth birthday—her coming-of-age ceremony night."

Michael stepped closer, his usual laid-back demeanor nowhere to be seen. His eyes were almost fully gold now, his wolf pushing to the surface. "Isabella what? Which pack is she from?"

"I... I don't know. She didn't tell me her surname or pack." Violet hesitated, glancing between us. "But her scent... it was quite unique. Unlike any Omega I've encountered."

"Fuck!" Michael's eyes flashed completely gold now, his control slipping.

"The registry!" He suddenly exclaimed, already moving toward the front desk.

We followed him through the corridors, my wolf becoming more agitated with each step. My skin felt too tight, every sense heightened. The sensation was unlike anything I'd experienced before—a mixture of hunger, possessiveness, and recognition. Whatever this Isabella was, my wolf knew her.

I need to find her. Need to taste her.

Diana straightened at our approach, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Michael, as always. She practically devoured him with her gaze, scanning every inch of him like she was cataloging his body for later fantasies. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips in a gesture that was meant to be seductive but just came across as desperate.

"Diana," Michael commanded, his voice dropping into the Alpha register that no wolf could ignore. "The guest list for tonight. Now."

Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled up the information, sneaking glances at Michael that he completely ignored. A flush spread across her cheeks, and the scent of her arousal was obvious and unwelcome. Her attention—all our attention—was fixed on finding the identity of the mysterious Omega who had just walked out of my club.

Kevin leaned against the desk, saying nothing, but his presence alone was enough to make Diana's hands shake harder. The tribal tattoos around his throat seemed to pulse with his rapid heartbeat, his jaw clenched tight with restraint.

As for me, I knew with absolute certainty that I would never let this Isabella slip away again. My body, my wolf, my very soul recognized her. The hunt had begun.

She belongs with us. With all of us.