“For the goddess’s sake! You’d think I was grading the work of kindergarten students, not college seniors!” Morgan exclaimed, leaning back in her chair with an exasperated sigh. I smiled and took a sip of my coffee—extra milk, very little sugar. We were at one of the cafes she had mentioned the first day we met—one of the few that wasn’t overflowing with grouchy older professors. After spending nearly a week here and accidentally walking into Tatianna’s Tarts—the cafe across the street that was the complete opposite—I was beginning to see the importance of that distinction. The sun had barely risen, so the cafe was mostly empty. The few people who were here were professors from other faculties, trying to get their morning coffee while squeezing in some last-minute grading or reviewing material for their upcoming classes. “I still don’t understand why you refuse to get a teaching assistant,” I said, eyeing the large stack of assignments in front of her. “It’d significantly reduce y
I replayed my interaction with Elijah more times than was probably decent. It was easy to lose myself in the coziness of the café—the quiet hum of conversation, the rich aroma of coffee, the illusion of a temporary escape. But as more people filtered in—groggy students rushing for their morning caffeine fix, their chatter growing louder—the peaceful atmosphere dissolved. Taking it as my cue to leave, I finished the last sip of my drink and gathered my things. After exchanging polite greetings with a few students who recognized me, I stepped outside and began the short walk to campus. The crisp morning air helped clear my head, but my thoughts remained tangled in the memory of that fleeting moment with Elijah. Just as I reached the manicured campus grounds, my phone buzzed with an email from the Head of my Department, summoning the faculty for an impromptu meeting before classes began. With a sigh, I changed course toward the faculty lounge, already bracing myself for what awaited
Morgan tried to cheer me up after that disaster of a meeting, and though I forced a grin, the look on her face made it painfully clear that I wasn’t fooling her.I didn’t want to talk about it, though. What was there to say? That, in some way, they were right about me? That I didn’t belong here, that I had no right to? Morgan would disagree, of course—but only because she didn’t know the truth.She didn’t know I was here because I had asked Victor to give me something to do—something other than being his tool.I hadn’t slept with anyone to get this job, but I’d sold myself all the same.Maybe asking Victor for this was a mistake. I’d come here with some misplaced hope that I could fit in, carve out a new life among people I thought were like me—people who loved knowledge, who loved sharing it.But every day I spent at this school, I realized more and more that I had been wrong.By the time my morning classes ended, I was relieved. Five grueling hours of trying to cram information into
Football practice was going as well as one could expect. So far, I’d only dropped the ball twice, and Coach Burke had only yelled at me three times—two less than yesterday.Progress, I guess?“North! What are you doing?!” Coach Burke’s voice boomed across the field, the veins in his neck bulging with frustration.Make that four times. At this rate, we might even surpass yesterday’s record. No progress, then.“Sorry, Coach!” I called back for the umpteenth time.Maybe I should’ve skipped practice today, like I had been doing ever since I lost the game two weeks ago. But after a strongly worded text from Coach Burke two days ago—chock full of typos and not-so-idle threats to kick me off the team—I figured I’d run from the consequences of my actions long enough. If I stayed away any longer, he might’ve dragged me here by the hair.I had to face my teammates at some point. Avoiding them was cowardly. We had a game in about a month, and I’d convinced myself I could redeem myself in their e
Even when she disappeared from sight, even when I knew she was gone, I kept staring after her, my heart hammering, my blood roaring, my wolf restless with the loss. And that’s when something—or someone—slammed into me, knocking me off my feet and sending me sprawling onto the grassy earth. I heard gasps resound from around me and had to squeeze my eyes shut, biting my lip to keep from screaming when pain shot through my injured shoulder. Above me, I heard Luka curse, then yell at someone. “What the fuck was that, Hunter?” Ah, of course, it was him. My eyes flew open, and I looked up to see Luka staring down the vice-captain with tension lining his shoulders. Around us, the rest of the team had drawn closer, including the spectators from the bleachers. “What? It was an accident,” Hunter said, not even bothering to lie. His tone dripped with mockery as he stared down at me. “But he could’ve easily dodged me… y’know, if he’d been paying any attention.” I got up, my movements flui
“Elijah,” she called, her voice sugary sweet, her smile so wide I almost expected it to stretch too far. Her eyes flickered to Luka for a fraction of a second before they locked back on me, completely dismissing him. It was as if he were invisible. Luka scoffed and walked off, muttering something under his breath that sounded like, “Good luck,” but it was clear he didn’t need to stick around for this. I didn’t blame him. She stopped just a few feet from me, the space between us suddenly feeling too small, too heavy. Before I could even open my mouth, she leaned forward. Her arms slid around my neck, and her body pressed against mine with a familiarity that made my skin crawl. I stiffened instinctively, confusion mixing with an unsettling sense of repulsion I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t disgust, not exactly, but it was the last thing I wanted—her. Not now. Not anymore. When she pulled back to look at me, she tried to close the gap again, her lips parting, but I leaned back, instin
The library was eerily quiet at this hour, the dim glow of overhead lamps casting elongated shadows across the wooden tables. It was the perfect setting for an undisturbed study session—isolated, structured, predictable.Which was why Elijah North did not belong here.He sprawled in his chair like he had nowhere better to be, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other drumming absentmindedly against the wooden table.Dressed in a long-sleeved black shirt and loose sweatpants, his tousled hair fell over his golden eyes, his demeanor relaxed. And yet, his gaze was fixed on me.It was just the two of us in the library. The librarian had handed me the keys before she left, droning on about making sure nothing was damaged and reminding me to lock up when I was done.I had been surprised to find Elijah already waiting when I arrived. I might’ve thought it was his enthusiasm for learning finally shining through, but the mischievous glint in his eyes when I approached with a stack of
After double checking to make sure the doors were properly locked, I packed up my things and made my way back to my apartment. It was as dark as you’d expect it to be at 9pm. The streets were only dimly lit by the streetlights hanging overhead and barely anyone was out and about except a few people walking their dogs or the occasional car speeding past. Maybe I would have found the combination of all of these things scary if my mind wasn’t in a whole other place entirely, a place it probably shouldn’t be—back in the library with Elijah leaning forward to grab my hand. I tried to shake off the memory by visibly shaking my head as if that could dislodge it—anyone who walked past me right at that moment would probably think I was crazy—but not matter what I did, I could still feel the warmth of his hand against mine. The tantalising sparks, the smoothness of his skin when he cradled my palm in his and I could remeber the temptation I felt… the temptation to beg him to let his arms tr
The scent hit first—mildew, rot, blood. Copper and fear.I hesitated at the first stone step, blinking into the heavy dark, then slowly descended, one hand pressed to the wall to steady myself.With every step, the temperature dropped. The kind of cold that didn’t just settle on your skin—it slithered into your bones. Into your marrow. It was unnatural. Stale. Wrong.And then I saw it.Not a catacomb.A lab.No—a prison.Rows of metallic beds bolted to the floor. Chains looped through iron rings, blood crusted into their links. Bodies—some conscious, others still—lay draped across the beds. Wounded. Bandaged. Bent in positions no body should bend. A woman sat in a corner, her throat stitched into silence. Her eyes met mine, wide and broken, as a child beside her whimpered through a metal muzzle.Buzzing fluorescent lights cast pale yellow shadows on the grey stone walls, flickering occasionally like the space itself couldn’t bear to see what lived in it. IV bags swayed gently, their t
The dress clung to me like a second skin—dark green, satin, soft beneath my fingers as I smoothed it down for what had to be the fiftieth time. It matched my eyes a little too well.My hair was swept up into an elaborate twist that had taken me thirty minutes and a pair of aching biceps to perfect. My makeup was done exactly how I liked it—how Jessie had taught me to do it. The dress covered the crook of my neck, at the same time, covering the mark there, and the back was high enough to keep my scars covered.I looked… pretty. Really pretty, actually. The kind of pretty that once might’ve made me feel powerful.But all I felt was dread.It had draped itself over my shoulders all day, this slow, smothering dread. I’d spent the hours pacing my apartment, waiting for something—anything—to shatter the quiet. For a hand to twist the doorknob, for a shadow to pass across the window, for someone to finally come and slit my throat.Maybe I should’ve taken Morgan up on her offer and stayed at
The library was quiet, dim with late-afternoon light filtering through the stained glass windows. I made my way to the back shelves, searching for a specific book I’d used earlier in the semester. My fingers skimmed across spines until I found it—too high on the shelf to reach. I stood on my toes, stretched as far as I could, fingertips just brushing the edge of the spine— A body moved behind me. Close. Too close. Before I could react, an arm reached over my head and plucked the book from the shelf like it weighed nothing. “Here you go.” I froze. My breath hitched, heart leaping into my throat. My body tensed, instinct screaming danger. For a split second, I imagined a hand clamping over my mouth, dragging me away—no sound, no struggle, just vanishing. But then I caught the scent. Apples. Spice. Earthy undertones. Elijah. A tremor ran through me, and I let out a slow, shuddering breath, slumping slightly against the shelf. “Lenora?” His voice was soft, concerned. “Are you ok
“We didn’t notice anyone unfamiliar coming into the apartment building at all,” Gerald said. He lifted his shoulders a little higher and addressed the Pack enforcer before him. “I always make sure to confirm every unfamiliar person’s identity before they even come in.” “I see,” the enforcer replied, scribbling something into the tiny notepad he’d been carrying around all day. Gerald shot me a pitying look. “I’m so sorry, dear. This kind of thing has never happened around here before.” I gave him a tight smile. “It’s fine. It’s not your fault.” No, it was mine—for waving away the past few instances where I’d felt like someone had been in my home as nothing more than paranoia. The enforcer stepped aside to take what seemed like a phone call, leaving me to assure Gerald that I didn’t blame him or the building’s management for the break-in. When the enforcer returned, the other one—who’d been questioning my neighbors—came with him. One look at his face told me everything. They’d fou
Connor was asleep when Sophie came barrelling into the shack.“Connor! Connor!” she yelled, Luka coming in behind her.I turned to tell her to lower her voice, but Connor’s eyes were already fluttering open. They immediately locked on Sophie and, almost automatically, he sat up and reached for her.Sophie threw herself on him, burying her face in his neck, sobbing and shakily muttering a string of apologies and questions about his well-being. Connor kept his arms tightly wrapped around her, his face calmer than I’d ever seen it. He responded softly, stroking her back and rocking her from side to side until her shaking and sputtering subsided into careful, intimate quiet.Her hands cradled his face, touching him like she couldn’t quite believe he was real. Connor was no different—his slender fingers stroked her cheek and gently tucked her hair away as he peppered kisses wherever his lips could reach.I looked away, feeling like I was intruding on something private. Mates were always li
Luka was right. What existed between Elijah and I wasn’t safe, and I’d almost forgotten that—with the hand holding, him carrying me, the touches that were purely reflexive. Hell, half of our physical contact was reflexive. I had no idea I was doing it until I already was. It was like I’d completely abandoned my resolve to steel myself against Elijah, letting everything I was feeling—trying not to feel—shine through once more. I needed to put a stop to that. I uncorked the vial of potion and downed it in one hasty gulp. The burn and bitterness made my tongue feel heavy, but I was used to it by now. I relaxed into the feeling of my mind emptying once more. My wolf had been persistent against the borders of my mind the entirety of yesterday morning—it only retreated after I’d used my ability, forcing it to shrivel back from exhaustion. I’d almost lost my mind this morning when I woke up to the damn thing yapping and snapping in my head. Today marked the first day of the weeklong ev
“Elijah…” the scrawny blond man spoke, his voice soft and raspy like it hadn’t been used in a long time.By the time I was done rolling my pants down and slipping on my boots, I turned to look at Elijah, a question at the tip of my tongue—but he was already watching me, reaching for me, dragging me away.“Elijah!” I yelped, stumbling after him.He paused, then turned back to the man I’d pegged as ‘Connor.’ “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”“Elijah…” Connor wheezed again, shoulders slumping like they couldn’t hold his weight anymore.That’s when I saw it—the tortured look on Elijah’s face—and it hit me hard, right across the chest.“Wait! Isn’t he Sophie’s—” I hissed, but Elijah cut me off, tugging me closer and staring down at me with wide eyes.“You… know?” His grip tightened slightly, and I saw it then—the flicker of fear in his gaze.A small part of me ached at how fast suspicion had come, but a bigger part of me understood. So I softened my voice and held his eyes. “I know because
I liked holding Lenora’s hand.Her palm was warm and a little smaller than mine, but it was firm, smooth, and it fit perfectly into the curve of my own. Like we were meant to always be that way.“Where are you taking me?” she asked as we stepped out through the mansion’s back door.I turned to face her. Already, she looked less suffocated than she had indoors. The morning sun fell softly across her face, and I couldn’t help but drink in the sight of her—surrounded by trees and bathed in golden light.She was wearing a green turtleneck sweater that matched the exact hue of her eyes, and black tights that clung to her smooth, shapely thighs. Her boots came up to her knees, sleek and practical. Her hair was pulled back in one of her usual, smooth, controlled buns—but nothing about her today looked particularly controlled.I kept thinking about the look in her eyes back inside—raw frustration and despair flashing across her face as she argued with Izaak. I’d only caught the end of it, jus
I sat on the cold marble floor, arms wrapped tightly around my knees, eyes fixed on nothing. I wasn’t crying, but somehow, it felt worse. At least tears would have brought some relief. Instead, there was just this… hollowness. A gaping space inside me where hope should have been.Part of me wanted to get up. March back into that room and demand that Victor take me to Jessie. Shake the smugness out of his bones, claw at the door if I had to. But I couldn’t. I’d probably just end up gagged and chained in some dungeon until he decided I was useful again. My only hope now was helping him more so he could keep up his end of the deal. A feeling of despair pressed against my chest. But at that there was a high likelihood that even if I did heal him—fully, completely—he could just keep Jessie locked away forever anyway. I squeezed my eyes shut. What would I even do then?Victor was good—no, a master—at planting seeds of helplessness. And now, I was choking on them. I duh my fingers into my