Chapter 43

Isabella

His blunt comment made my cheeks burn, heat spreading from my neck to my chest. My core responded with embarrassing wetness, inner muscles clenching around nothing.

Fuck, just his voice can make me like this. My wolf stretched toward him, recognizing the mate before her, almost begging me to submit and bare my throat.

Michael stood before a large painting depicting an ancient wolf ritual, his sandy hair tied in a casual ponytail that emphasized his strong jaw and sensual lips.

He wore dark pants that clung to his athletic thighs and a forest green button-up shirt that matched his eyes, which flickered with golden flames when he noticed me.

"Look at you," he said appreciatively, his gaze traveling slowly from my silver high heels upward, along my bare legs, deliberately lingering at the hem of my dress as if imagining what lay beneath, across the tight fabric that outlined every curve, hovering at the fullness of my breasts, before finally meeting my eyes.

"You look fucking sexy tonight, baby. That dress has me salivating, and those legs... God, I can't wait to feel them wrapped around my waist while I pound into that tight little pussy of yours. Almost like you want to drive us crazy."

The crude words from his typically elegant mouth sent electricity straight to my core. My nipples grew tight and painful, the friction of my bra adding to the exquisite torture. I pressed my thighs tightly together, trying to alleviate the throbbing ache between them.

A smile played on my lips, an unprecedented confidence building under their obvious hunger. The power I held over these strong men was intoxicating, making me bolder than ever before. "Who says I don't?" I countered, letting my tongue briefly wet my lower lip in deliberate provocation. "Maybe I want to see what happens when three Alphas lose control."

Michael laughed, the sound warm and approving, but his eyes darkened with undeniable desire. "You're playing with fire, Isabella. You've been driving us crazy since you first walked into this club. Before you even knew what you were." He stepped closer, his scent—pine, leather, and male musk—enveloping me. "And what you are, baby, is fucking perfect for us."

Kevin moved to the seat to Richard's right, still maintaining his brooding silence. Richard gestured for me to sit at the other end of the table, directly across from him.

"Sit, Isabella," he said, his tone slightly softer. "We have much to discuss tonight."

As I pulled out the chair, I noticed a thick file on the table—the mate-bond contract—and a sealed envelope.

Richard's eyes swept over Kevin's bruised knuckles but asked no questions, merely nodding slightly as if confirming something he already knew. They're keeping secrets, I realized. Something about territory or pack business.

"I suggest we eat dinner first," Richard said, leaning back in his chair with fingers interlaced across his chest. "Then discuss the contract details. How does that sound, Isabella?"

"That works for me," I agreed, setting my notebook aside.

"How are you finding your stay at Michael's cabin?" Richard asked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp with interest. "Has he been taking good care of you?"

"He's taken very good care of me," I confirmed, feeling Michael's satisfied expression without even looking at him. "His home is beautiful."

"I'm jealous he got you to himself for a night," Richard admitted, something possessive flashing in his amber eyes. "I had hoped to bring you back to my penthouse."

Before I could respond, the door opened and several club staff entered carrying trays of food. The scent of perfectly roasted meat filled the room, making my mouth water and my wolf perk up with interest. The main course was exactly what werewolves preferred—charred on the outside but nearly raw within, accompanied by fresh vegetables.

Conversation during dinner remained light.

"I found information about the open night on a werewolf community website," I explained, cutting into my steak. "I'd never attended a formal werewolf gathering before and wanted to see what it was like."

"What made you choose our establishment over others?" Michael asked, genuinely curious.

I shrugged, feeling my cheeks warm slightly. "It had the best reviews. Seemed safest for first-time visitors."

Richard nodded approvingly. "You have good instincts. Most lower-tier establishments lack proper safety protocols."

As dinner concluded and staff cleared our plates, I could feel the atmosphere shifting. The time for small talk was over—now we would discuss the true purpose of tonight's meeting.

Richard picked up the contract, sliding it toward the center of the table. "Before we begin reviewing the details, do you have any preliminary questions or concerns, Isabella?"

I took a deep breath, sitting up straighter. "Actually, yes. I need to clarify one thing first." I opened my notebook to the first page where I had underlined my most important question. "During our mate-bond, will you be exclusive with me, or will you see other werewolves?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. Michael raised an eyebrow, exchanging a look with Richard.

"We will be completely exclusive," Richard stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "Although our arrangement is temporary, a mate-bond requires our full commitment. None of us will pursue or accept other partners during this time."

"Absolutely," Michael agreed. "That kind of divided attention would be disrespectful to you and could jeopardize the balance of our bond."

Kevin remained silent, his black eyes fixed on me, but I noticed them briefly flash gold, some elusive emotion crossing his features.

"Thank you," I said, relieved. "I just needed to be sure. I understand this is temporary—until each of you finds your true Luna, or I find a more permanent mate—but I wanted to confirm expectations."

Richard nodded approvingly. "Good. Clear communication is essential for any relationship, especially one with dominant/submissive elements."

"Speaking of which," I continued, gaining confidence, "the time arrangement we discussed—four days with you, three days for me—that still stands?"

"Yes," Richard confirmed. "If you stay with someone on their designated night and remain until the following morning, the next evening still belongs to the next wolf in the rotation. For example, if you're with me Wednesday night and stay until Thursday morning, Thursday evening would still belong to either Michael or Kevin, depending on the rotation."

"Perfect," I nodded, making notes.

Richard pulled the contract closer, turning to the first marked section. "Let's discuss the categories we use. Activities are divided into four classifications: 'Interested in,' 'Willing to try,' 'Neutral,' and 'Absolute hard limits.' We need your input on each."

My body heated at the thought of discussing such intimate details, but my wolf seemed eager, pushing me forward with curious enthusiasm. This was it—the true beginning of potentially the most significant relationship of my life.

Richard gave me a knowing smile, as if sensing my internal turmoil. "Don't worry, little she-wolf. We'll take this one step at a time."