Chapter 10

Isabella

At five in the morning, the neon sign of the Howling Night Bar finally darkened behind me. I locked the heavy front door, my arm aching from its weight.

My body was a contradiction—muscles screaming with exhaustion, yet beneath my skin, a restless current continued to hum. My stomach growled painfully, reminding me that I'd only managed a few hurried bites of an apple during my bartending shift.

Thank God that's finally over.

The closing tasks had dragged on: shooing away the last few drunken patrons, counting the register three times because my thoughts kept wandering, turning off every light in the place. But at least I'd survived another shift. Better yet, the strange feverish symptoms that had plagued me since my eighteenth birthday had actually subsided tonight.

Until he showed up.

The blonde man at the bar—remembering his amber eyes, another wave of heat swept through my body. My inner wolf, still so unfamiliar, stirred restlessly beneath my skin.

"Do you want me to wait with you at the bus stop?"

James, the night manager, stood in the doorway, running his hand through his perfectly styled hair. He was objectively handsome—well-groomed eyebrows, a defined jawline, and a solid build evident even beneath his button-up shirt. But his personality was as flat as wet cardboard.

I hesitated. My pride wanted to say no, but the reality was that the nightlife district of Silver Moon City wasn't particularly safe at 5 a.m.—especially for a female werewolf.

"Wouldn't that be a problem for you?" I asked, shifting my weight from one aching foot to the other. "I know you have your own things to do."

"Of course not," James said, locking the door behind him. "The boss requires me to make sure all staff get home safely. Come on."

I nodded, too tired to argue. As we walked toward the bus stop, I found myself unconsciously categorizing James—a few years older than me, but I'd firmly placed him in the "boss" category in my mind, though it was increasingly obvious that he viewed me differently.

His gaze always lingered on my curves whenever I reached for bottles on the high shelf. He would miraculously appear nearby whenever I took a break. He always offered extra shifts to me first, before the other bartenders.

Great. Just what I need—another wolf with ideas.

The streets were eerily quiet, most party-goers having stumbled home hours ago. Our footsteps echoed between the brick buildings, the only sound apart from distant traffic and the occasional lonely howl of some werewolf somewhere in the city.

At the bus stop, James leaned against the shelter, clearly preparing to launch into a conversation I had no energy for.

"So when does school start?" he asked, his nostrils flaring slightly as he caught my scent.

"In a month," I answered, staring down the empty street, willing my bus to appear.

"I guess I won't be seeing much of you then," he said, disappointment evident in his tone. His eyes flickered, glowing faintly amber in the streetlights. "You'll be busy with classes, full moon gatherings, and..."

"I'll still come in for weekend shifts," I reassured him professionally. "Just every other weekend."

Full moon gatherings? Doesn't he know I'm a low-ranking omega?

I felt a flicker of hope thinking about my final year of business management studies starting soon. One more year of juggling two jobs and academics, and then I'd have my degree.

We lapsed into uncomfortable silence. James kept fidgeting and stealing glances at me while I pretended to develop an intense interest in the cigarette butts scattered on the sidewalk.

When my bus finally rounded the corner, headlights cutting through the pre-dawn darkness, I almost sighed with relief.

"That's my ride," I said, deliberately stepping away to avoid any possible contact. "Thanks for waiting with me."

"Of course," James said, rubbing the back of his neck. "See you in two weeks?"

"Mmm," I murmured, climbing the steps. As the doors closed behind me, I felt the tension in my shoulders dissolve, finally free from his expectant gaze and the subtle pressure of his energy field.

I need to stop letting him wait with me, I thought, sinking into an empty seat. He was clearly getting the wrong idea.

The bus bumped forward through the sleeping city, moving from the entertainment district into shabbier areas. Through the window, I watched as well-maintained buildings gradually gave way to structures with peeling paint and barred windows.

My apartment building stood among them like a tired old man—slightly stooped, years of neglect evident in its cracked foundation and water-stained exterior. New Moon Apartments wasn't anyone's dream home, but it was a rent I could afford.

I trudged up five flights of stairs, keys already in hand. The elevator had been "temporarily out of service" since I moved in two years ago.

My apartment greeted me like a familiar but somewhat embarrassing friend. The ceiling had a water stain that spread like a brown Rorschach test, forcing me to position buckets during rainstorms. The main room served as living room, bedroom, and dining area all at once, with my mattress against one wall and a small folding table against another.

The kitchen was barely large enough for one person, with just enough counter space to make a sandwich. The bathroom was so narrow I could brush my teeth while sitting on the toilet, and the shower stall so small my elbows hit the walls when I washed my hair.

Through the paper-thin walls, I could hear one neighbor's snoring and another's television playing infomercials.

Home sweet home.

Despite its flaws, it was mine—my own space, paid for with my own money. I hung my work uniform—the tight white crop top and black shorts designed to display my "assets" for tips—on the hook behind the door. Though physically exhausted, my body still hummed with energy.

As I prepared a simple sandwich in the tiny kitchen—bread slightly stale, cheese and a slice of turkey—I found myself thinking about the upcoming school year. How would I balance my final year of classes with work? Summer shifts at Howling Night and Twilight Café were manageable, but adding full-time coursework would push me to my limits.

But what choice do I have?

I needed the money for tuition, rent, and food. Sitting cross-legged on my mattress, I devoured the sandwich in four hungry bites. The food barely touched my empty stomach, but it would have to do until I could buy groceries again.

My thoughts kept returning to the blonde man at the bar. The way he'd looked at me, as if he could see straight through to my soul. My body's reaction to him was abnormal.

My inner wolf had nearly lunged forward, desperate to be near him. It was as if she recognized something in him that I couldn't fully comprehend. Could he be my destined mate? The thought flashed through my mind before I could suppress it.

No. He was clearly from high bloodlines—probably already paired with some beautiful, high-status female wolf. My reaction was just my newly awakened adult wolf responding to a powerful male presence. Nothing more.

But what if... I shook my head. After a quick shower with lukewarm water (the water heater was perpetually broken), I collapsed onto my mattress. Despite my exhaustion, sleep refused to come. My skin felt too tight, too sensitive against the cheap cotton sheets.

My thoughts kept flashing back to Erotic Paradise a week ago. The elegant atmosphere, the powerful werewolves, my attraction followed by the realization I didn't belong. The humiliation of learning I didn't qualify for membership still stung.

Those three men watching me from across the bar—their gazes so intense I could physically feel them. Had the blonde man tonight been one of them? The possibility made my heart race, my inner wolf howling.

I tossed and turned, my body alternating between chills and fever. These symptoms weren't normal for an omega, at least according to the little information my parents had shared. Was I defective in some way?

Finally, as dawn's light began filtering through my thin curtains, exhaustion conquered me, pulling me into dreams.

I knelt naked on a cold stone altar, sweat rolling down my spine, my skin shivering between hot and cold flashes, nipples hard as pebbles and so sensitive that even the movement of air felt like pinpricks. Darkness surrounded me, with only moonlight streaming through a skylight above, outlining my body, silently inviting gazes.

"You want this, don't you?" a deep voice whispered in my ear, smooth as velvet yet carrying an authority that brooked no resistance.