Submitting To Three Alphas

Isabella

The piercing alarm yanked me from a dream that left my skin burning and my breath ragged. Three powerful figures with glowing eyes prowled around me, their scents flooding my senses, carrying something raw and utterly irresistible.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I slammed the alarm off, staring at the cracked ceiling of my rundown apartment. Cheap curtains barely filtered the morning light, draping the room in a dull, gray haze.

My business administration textbooks teetered in a shaky stack by the bed, next to my two neatly folded uniforms—a blue polka-dot dress for Twilight Café and a tight white crop top with black shorts for Night Howl Bar.

Two years ago, I, Isabella Hart, left the Forest Domain—a remote village tucked away in ancient woods. My Omega parents were low-status in the local pack, toiling endlessly for meager rewards.

Despite the hardship, they never let me see their complaints. They pinched every penny to send me to Silver Moon University. To them, I was their only hope—if I could earn a degree, maybe I’d break the chains of our Omega family’s generational curse.

Tomorrow night, I turn eighteen—a pivotal moment in every werewolf pack. My family kept reminding me how crucial this birthday is, because on that day, my wolf will fully manifest, and I might sense who my fated mate is.

But they stayed silent about these sudden… urges. I didn’t dare ask anyone—as a lowlife Omega, our tribe barely tolerated us, and nobody cared about our troubles. Mom always said it wasn’t odd for wolves like us to have certain “filthy” reactions. Either way, tomorrow night will reveal everything, and I’m both thrilled and terrified of the moment.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I wasn’t like this before. I could feel my body changing, like a tide surging out of control—heart racing, throat parched, even my fingertips trembling. No, don’t think about those depraved things!

I forced myself to sit up, wincing as the sheet grazed my sensitive nipples. The dripping faucet in the bathroom provided an irritating soundtrack to my torment.

The clock’s red digits jolted me from my thoughts. Damn. I was going to be late.

I rushed through a shower, but it did nothing to soothe my burning skin—if anything, the water droplets felt like tiny electric shocks. I threw on the Twilight Café uniform, the fabric feeling unnaturally rough against my hypersensitive body. No time for breakfast.

On the street, humans passed by oblivious, but every now and then, a werewolf would turn their head, nostrils flaring slightly. I quickened my pace, eyes glued to the ground.

“This is the third time this month, Hart. One more late punch, and I’m cutting your hours.” Ms. Cooper’s tight face showed no sympathy as I clocked in three minutes late.

“Sorry, it won’t happen again.” I tied my apron with trembling fingers.

“It better not. Cashier two—Julian called in sick.”

My heart sank. Julian was my only friend, the only wolf I could talk to. Without him as a buffer, today was going to be hell.

Damn it, why today of all days? My body feels like it’s burning up.

Three hours into my shift, a familiar voice cut through the café’s noise.

“Hey, girl! Miss me?”

Julian appeared at the counter, looking like he’d stepped off a fashion shoot—black pants, loose shirt, denim jacket, rings glinting on his fingers, dark hair artfully messy.

“I thought you were sick?” I whispered, a wave of relief washing over me.

“Sick? No way. I texted I’d be late, and Cooper marked me absent all day. Typical.” He leaned over the counter, then froze, eyes widening. “Girl, you look… off today.”

I avoided his gaze. “I’m fine.”

“The adult ceremony’s coming up. You ready?” His voice dropped to a concerned whisper. “Tomorrow’s your eighteenth, right?”

“Can we not talk about this here?” I hissed, nervously scanning the room.

Worry flickered in his eyes. “Your reactions are stronger than any pre-ceremony Omega I’ve seen.”

Before I could respond, I messed up two coffee orders, handing a cinnamon latte to a customer who’d asked for vanilla.

“What the fuck is this shit?” The male werewolf customer roared, shoving the cup toward me. “I ordered vanilla, not this cinnamon garbage!”

“I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll remake it right away.” I reached for the cup, my voice shaking.

His nostrils flared, a malicious smirk curling his lips. “This is what you get letting lowlife Omegas serve customers. Can’t even handle a simple coffee order. Pathetic.”

My cheeks burned as other customers turned to watch.

He kept going, his tone dripping with contempt. “An Omega like you won’t even snag a halfway decent fated mate. Maybe you should come to me—at least you’d get a taste of what a real wolf feels like.”

Julian stepped between us. “Sir, I’ll remake your drink now. And I’d appreciate it if you kept your comments about my coworker to yourself.”

Under Julian’s steady stare, the customer scoffed but backed off.

“This is unacceptable, Isabella.” Ms. Cooper appeared out of nowhere, her lips pursed into a thin line. “You’ve been distracted all week, and now you’re causing a scene with a customer.”

“He was inappropriate—”

“I don’t care. Fix your attitude, or don’t bother coming in tomorrow.” She lowered her voice. “And handle your… condition. You’re affecting others in your state.”

Shame scorched hotter than the fire in my veins. I wished the ground would split open and swallow me.

“You okay? That guy was a complete asshole,” Julian said later, as we stood outside after my shift.

“I’m fine, just tired.” I lied, adjusting my backpack for my second job.

“Fuck, girl. You need to figure this out, especially working at Night Howl. The wolves there aren’t as easy to deal with as here.”

“I’ll manage. I’m heading home.” I turned, exhaustion slowing my steps.

“Text me if you need anything, okay?” Julian called after me.

I nodded without looking back. My skin felt like it was crawling with a thousand needles, and the throbbing between my legs had only grown worse throughout the day.

This is my problem. I’ll deal with it.

I took a back route home, paranoid about crossing paths with wolves who might pick up on my condition. Damn, if any wolf catches my scent right now… Look at me—pussy drenched, tits so sensitive it hurts, ready to act like a bitch in heat the second a male wolf walks by.

My apartment building’s elevator was broken again, forcing me to climb five flights of stairs. By the time I reached my door, my legs were trembling from exhaustion and something entirely different.

Inside, I collapsed onto the bed, noticing something in my pocket—a glossy black card I didn’t recall picking up. It bore a silver moon emblem and elegant lettering:

Erotic Haven – Exclusive Experiences for Werewolves Open to Unbonded Omegas .This Saturday, No Invitation Required

Who gave me this? What is this place? It sounds like some high-end wolf club, the kind where a lowlife Omega like me wouldn’t even get past the door.

I flipped the card in my hand, feeling an inexplicable pull toward it. My body ached with an unbearable emptiness. My hand slipped between my thighs, but my own touch wasn’t enough.

The void was suffocating, a physical pain throbbing with every heartbeat. Damn this coming-of-age bullshit.

Drifting between sleep and waking, my mind conjured images of powerful male wolves, their scents enveloping me, their mate bonds soothing the searing need inside. I could almost feel their hands roaming my body, their teeth grazing my neck, their hard cocks filling my emptiness.

Maybe Erotic Haven could offer the answers my wolf instincts were howling for. Maybe Saturday—tomorrow night—I’d go find out.