Chapter 4

Isabella

The bar was dreamlike, with its silver pine bar counter carved with moon patterns that reflected a cold brilliance. Werewolves mingled throughout—some in pairs with intertwining scents like vines, others walking alone with gazes sharp as hunters.

I sat on a leather barstool, the fabric pressing tight against my thighs, coolness seeping into my skin like a reminder of this strange world's reality. The air was thick with pheromones, making my wolf whimper inside me. My eighteenth birthday ceremony had awakened it, making it restless, eager to break free from its constraints.

"This is the social area," Violet guided me toward the bar, her voice gentle. "Through scent and posture, you can sense potential mates. Upstairs is the Moonlight Hall, open only to select werewolves."

Her words were like moonlight—guiding yet distant. My fingers lightly traced the bar, fingertips sliding across the carved moon patterns as I tried to calm my heartbeat. Tonight, I wanted to challenge an Omega's destiny, refusing to be a puppet that bows and submits. But this place—Erotic Paradise—stood imposing like a temple. How could I, a low-ranking Omega, dare to imagine fitting in?

"Our rules ensure safety," Violet continued. "Controlling your aura is crucial three days before and after the full moon. Uncontrolled wolf nature can hurt others, which we absolutely won't tolerate. Violators will be expelled, with no chance of return."

Safety. I smiled bitterly, while inside a storm raged. My wolf nature was spiraling out of control, burning my skin, tightening my core, as if calling to an unknown presence.

"That's the bonding recovery area," she pointed to a softly lit alcove. "After the mating ceremony, werewolves comfort each other there. You can only accept your mate's aura, stay quiet, and let your newly bonded souls stabilize under the moonlight."

Souls. Her word made me shudder. Was my wolf yearning not just for physical touch but something deeper? My fingers unconsciously clutched the hem of my dress, nails digging into my palm as I tried to suppress that strange throbbing.

"You respond strongly to auras," Violet observed, her eyes inquisitive. "More... sensitive than typical Omegas."

Sensitive? Is that why I felt like I was burning in moonlight? My cheeks heated as I lowered my gaze, ashamed to admit my body's betrayal.

Suddenly, energy crashed over me like a tidal wave, making me spin around. At the far end of the bar stood three male werewolves, towering like mountains, their gazes fixed on me like stars. The air stagnated with their presence, like invisible chains wrapping around my soul. My breath caught, heart pounding—not from simple desire, but something deeper—like a plucked string, a resonating tremor deep within my soul.

The blond man, with amber eyes blazing like the sun, radiated authority yet his gaze held a touch of tenderness, as if calling to my lost memories. The man with sandy hair was calm as a deep lake, yet his eyes held sharpness, as if he could see through my disguise. The tattooed man, with muscle lines like rock, tribal markings pulsing in the moonlight across his skin, emitted dangerous magnetism, like a silent vow. They weren't ordinary powerful werewolves—they were myths, embodiments of destiny.

My wolf howled inside, not in submission but in response—a yearning for soul recognition. My hand pressed against my chest, feeling my wild heartbeat as if answering their presence.

Their aura penetrated my marrow like moonlight, awakening memory fragments I'd never accessed—wolves running under starlight, whispered vows, intertwined souls. My vision blurred as if through mist I glimpsed another self, standing beside them.

Could they be... my destined mates? How was that possible? Three powerful werewolves, resonating with a low-ranking Omega like me?

Violet's voice broke through the fog: "They're not for you, Isabella."

"What?" I whispered, my cheeks burning at being caught staring, my gaze darting away.

She nodded slightly toward the three men. "Their radiance is too strong for you now. You need to find your own path first."

Her word cut like a knife, piercing my heart. I stole glances at them—the blond's majesty, the long-haired one's composure, the tattooed one's danger. The space around them seemed separated by an invisible barrier, other werewolves instinctively keeping their distance. Yet I was like dust, too insignificant to approach. My wolf whimpered, yearning yet insecure, the soul resonance crushed by cold reality.

What was I? A low-ranking Omega—how dare I dream of connecting with such souls? Yet my body betrayed me, my core moistening, shame flooding over me like a tide. I bit my lip, tasting blood, forcing myself to look directly at Violet. "I'm unfamiliar with this place," my voice was hoarse. "There's little information online. Can you tell me more?"

She smiled, the fine lines around her eyes softening. "Erotic Paradise isn't somewhere just anyone can enter. The manager is selective, choosing only... unique werewolves. Everything from décor to atmosphere is designed for high-level experiences."

I looked around—the silver pine bar with moon patterns, crystal chandeliers casting cold light, the majestic wolf totems on walls, werewolves dressed in leather and silk, carrying themselves like nobility. They belonged here, while I—an Omega in a cheap dress—was like a beggar who wandered in by mistake. My parents once said I could break our family's curse, but now, I doubted I even deserved to stand here.

"There are rules," Violet continued. "Don't touch someone's mate without permission, communicate clearly before ceremonies. Safety signals must be respected. Don't interfere with others' scenes, and dress according to your status—your dress is good, the exposed neck is clever."

"Thanks," I said softly, fingers brushing my empty neck, the blank skin seeming to mock my insignificance.

"You're beautiful, Isabella," she smiled. "At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching you."

Twenty pairs? My hand froze, clutching my dress hem until my knuckles whitened. No one in Forest Territory ever gave me a second glance, yet here, I was the focus? Absurd. Their gazes were probably just mockery—the foolish fantasies of a worthless Omega. Yet my wolf rejoiced at the attention, the wetness becoming more obvious, making me clench my thighs together in shame.

"To join... what are the requirements?" I asked, my voice trembling.

She tilted her head. "Diana didn't tell you? You need status, or an invitation from a high-ranking wolf."

My stomach dropped like ice, my legs weakening—thankfully I was sitting. Status? What did I have? A low-ranking Omega, my family's disgrace. That black card—the invitation that brought me here—must have been a mistake. My chest tightened, making breathing difficult. How stupid. I actually thought I could belong here?

"I have to go," I stood up, my voice breaking, cheeks burning with shame.

"Isabella?" Violet frowned, concern in her eyes.

"I don't belong here," I whispered, my throat tight. "Thank you."

She said softly, "You have your own path, Isabella."

I straightened my back, looking straight ahead, clutching my last shred of dignity as I left. Inside, I was collapsing, shame cutting like a knife. I had found a place that could awaken my wolf nature, only to discover I couldn't even get through the door. The coming-of-age ceremony, which should have been rebirth, had become humiliation.

As I left, the gazes of those three men still burned my back, wrapping around my soul like moonlight. My wolf screamed to turn back, to immerse in their resonance, but reason told me their world was beyond my reach. I hated myself, hated this worthless body, hated this untouchable destiny.