Chapter 20

Isabella

The next day at Twilight Café, I couldn't stop thinking about Michael and Erotic Paradise. My hands operated on autopilot as I prepared drinks and served customers, but my mind remained in that bold world of ritual and desire.

Did Michael already have a mate? Fuck, if he already has a mate, then I got wet for nothing last night. But this is so strange, I've never had such an intense reaction to any man...

During my lunch break, I called the number Allen had given me to schedule my physical examination. The receptionist—thankfully not Diana—arranged for me to come in next week.

"Is this required for all new members?" I asked.

"Yes, especially for unbonded wolves," the receptionist explained. "It's for everyone's safety."

Safety. That made sense. I hung up and stared at my half-eaten sandwich, my appetite diminishing as I thought about Michael and the club.

If I went back, would I see him again? Should I actively seek a mate, or let things develop naturally?

Despite being a werewolf myself, my knowledge about werewolf mating was embarrassingly limited. My parents had always been vague, saying I'd understand when I came of age.

Well, I was of age now, and I understood nothing.

"So, tell me, how was it?" Julian cornered me an hour before closing at the café, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"It was good," I said, wiping down a table.

Julian's expression was comically outraged. "Is that really all I get? 'It was good'? I'm dying of curiosity here, can't you see how curious I am? I'm going to explode if you don't give me details."

I glanced around to ensure no customers were within earshot. "I can't tell you much."

"Why not?" he pressed.

"I signed a pack confidentiality oath," I explained. "Breaking it has consequences. I can't discuss what happens inside Erotic Paradise or who I saw there."

Julian's shoulders slumped with disappointment. "That sucks. Did you at least meet any hot guys?"

I couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at my lips. "Maybe one."

"Come on! That's it?" he groaned dramatically.

"Sorry," I said, not entirely sorry. Another wave of heat flooded my body whenever I thought about Michael—his voice, his scent, the way his eyes flashed gold when he looked at me. My wolf gets so restless every time I think about him, getting so wet down there it's practically dripping, this is insane.

That evening, I stood in front of my tiny closet, staring at the limited options. I was determined to return to Erotic Paradise tonight, but what should I wear? The black dress I'd worn for my previous visit seemed too formal for a third appearance.

I video-called Julian, holding up different options for inspection.

"Help me choose an outfit," I pleaded. "I really don't know what's appropriate for Erotic Paradise."

"How daring are you willing to go?" Julian asked, eyes gleaming.

I hesitated. "Well, that depends. What are you thinking?"

"The black backless top for me, those deep blue skinny jeans for you, and that lightweight jacket to throw over. Remember to expose your neck, men like to see that." The place they like to bite and lick and mark.

I nodded, grateful for his expertise. "Thanks so much, talk soon."

After ending the call, I followed Julian's advice, adding my favorite silver moon necklace as a sort of talisman. The cool metal against my skin grounded me, a reminder of who I still was beneath all these new sensations and desires.

The doorman recognized me immediately, nodding respectfully as I approached the entrance to Erotic Paradise. Inside, Diana sat at the reception desk, her perfect makeup accentuating her sharp features.

"Isobella," she said, her tone making it clear she was deliberately mispronouncing my name.

"It's Isabella," I corrected, keeping my voice steady.

She gave me a dismissive once-over. "Do you have your membership bracelet?"

I held up my wrist, displaying the silver crescent. Diana's sneer carried a hint of superiority, as if the bracelet marked me as inferior.

"You may proceed," she said, turning away as if I'd suddenly become transparent.

What the fuck is her problem? I wondered as I walked past her. My wolf, who had previously felt threatened by Diana, now seemed merely annoyed rather than intimidated.

The corridor leading to the Moonlight Hall was quieter tonight, allowing me to truly appreciate the ancient wolf totems and patterns decorating the walls. The artwork was breathtaking—intricate silver designs against deep black backgrounds depicting wolves in various bonding positions.

This was a far cry from the typical werewolf imagery in human media—savage beasts driven by bloodlust and rage. The reality was far more complex and beautiful, a society with its own rules, ranks, and connections.

I've read so many books about werewolf society, I thought with a touch of pride. Even if my knowledge of mating was limited, I knew more than most about the basics of pack structure and werewolf history.

Following Allen's instructions from the member orientation, I knocked three times on the door to the Moonlight Hall. The moment I stepped inside, I felt eyes on me. My skin prickled with awareness, my senses heightening in response to the attention.

I scanned the room slowly, my heart pounding heavily in my chest.

First, I locked eyes with Michael across the room. He stood by a silver-topped table, holding a glass of amber liquid. His eyes flickered with recognition, gleaming strangely in the moonlight. His mouth curved upward in a smile that sent heat coursing through my entire body.

Then I noticed the second man watching me with singular focus. Golden short hair, amber eyes that seemed to flash red in certain light, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that accentuated his powerful build. His presence dominated the entire room, and even from this distance, I could feel the force of his attention.

Finally, my gaze landed on the third man—massive, muscular, with tribal tattoos covering almost every visible inch of skin except his face. He stood slightly apart from the others, silent and watchful, yet somehow radiating the same powerful energy as the other two.

It's them. The three men I saw during my first visit.

The realization hit me with startling clarity. These weren't just ordinary wolves—they were powerful. My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin, whimpering with interest, but a cold reality settled over me.

Men like these—would never be interested in a low-ranking Omega like me, regardless of Richard Morgan's charitable invitation.

A wave of profound disappointment washed over me. I'm being ridiculous, I tried to shake off the inexplicable attraction I felt toward them. They're completely out of my league. They probably just want to mate with any woman to satisfy their needs, like dogs in a junkyard...