~CASSELBA'S POV
MONDAY MORNING is not quite what you expect for a Professor. First off, I lie in bed until the sun spears through my window like an angry arrow.
The alarm never rang of course, because I don't have one. With the orange rays shimmering through the breezing curtains of my bedroom, I still remain on the bed for another fifteen minutes.
The sky is clear. The weather is nice. I certainly have no excuse to sleep in, but somehow I manage to do just that.
It isn't until my stomach growls loudly that I finally push back my curly black waves to get out of bed—and straight into the kitchen. Bacon! Please bacon! My wolf purrs.
I smile at her teeny-tiny voice. She's only this cute when she's hungry, but when we're angry on the other hand...
Trust me, you do not want to be at the receiving end of a she-wolf's fury.
I stop at the full-length mirror of my bedroom on the way to the kitchen. My messy curls surround my head in an untidy but clean pile. The little brown strands fall over, across my gray eyes, and even I admit that it's cute. I do a little spin in front of the mirror.
Damn! I wasn't even sure I could gain weight. Between my superhuman lithe stature and my nightly trips to the woods; running naked across miles of green, I wasn't sure I could ever be on the plus-side. Ever.
I smile at the mirror, moving my hands up to make sense of my hair. Some minutes later, I stand with a successful ponytail which was hard enough with my wavy locks.
We did find bacon, and the ensuing breakfast was heaven. One thing werewolves didn't spare themselves was a good meal. And all Canine Shifters can admit that we relish good meat.
There is a very good chance that eighty percent of the population in a Steakhouse during a full moon night are werewolves.
It isn't until the wall clock strikes nine that I finally walk out of the bathroom. A hot steam follows me out into my comfy bedroom. I close my eyes and hurriedly begin dressing, even as I try so hard to forget what I had been doing in the few minutes spent under the showers.
It wasn't my fault. There was hot water, sweet-smelling soaps, and I had a very imaginative mind. Combine all that, and a naked woman under the showers equals an erotic dream.
I feel guilty.
No woman should ever feel guilty about her body or what she does with it, but my guilt was because my fantasy had been that of my hot brown-eyed student.
As his warm chocolate gaze flashed before my closed eyes, my hands pushed deeper between my legs. Then my thoughts went haywire. It was his clean jaw. His brooding face. His long strides. As my fingers went to town on my hot skin, all I could see was him. The young man that gave me pleasure.
Then as I reached the peak of my desire, the masked man suddenly appeared in my vision. His blatant provocative stare sent me over the edge. I stood shuddering in delight as hot water streamed down my body.
My eyes instantly fly open and I come out of my bathroom reverie. I spot my palm sliding smoothly under the skirt I had just put on.
"Shit!" I growl.
I immediately pull it from under the silk material. I straighten my skirt once more and move to the mirrors.
As I stare at my reflection, I feel a nudge from my wolf.
She was trying to tell me something. Something I already knew but kept praying it wasn't true, or at least waiting for it to fade away. The signal hits my brain and I close my eyes, immediately closing the borders of my mind.
Someone was trying to get through to me. I already knew who he was. His hazel eyes sent me into heat. Another mind wave hits me and I shudder.
Another person was also seeking me out, gently coaxing me to give in and open my mind to our connection.
My wolf nudges me again and I spot my red nails slowly elongating. Not now! I nudge back and she falls silent. The men in my mind were humans, but I had never seen such moxie. They were determined to have me, and I was a sucker for brilliant badboys.
I push back until I feel them leave my mind. I hated that I didn't indulge but it was best for us. If what my wolf whispered to me was true then distance was how I needed to play it, because I had never seen a single Shifter female with two mates!
And I sure as hell would never let Hiram and his pack of Ferals hurt anyone again. Not while I could still do something about it.
~. ~. ~.
THE FERALS are a pack of wild dogs—putting it mildly. They do not possess the finely brushed fur of werewolves. Neither do they possess any inward honor. Their insides are as ungroomed as the outside.
The FERAL pack is characterized by gray rangy fur ranging from a dull metal color to pelts black as night. Pups are trained from a young age to be fiercer than a whirlwind, and their pack is a cesspool of destruction.
The Feral Alpha, Hiram Arespoulos is the very image of a broken and vile man. The demons in is skull have readily built a maze in his head. The Ferals had murdered dozens of werewolves; completely obliterating some packs, and devoured scores of humans that dared challenge the pack.
A single scornful look across a bar is enough to have Hiram lop of a head.
I had just being named Luna of the RavenClaw pack: a band of beautiful and loyal Shifters that were so free-minded, when I received Hiram's first threat; the bleeding broken body of a young human girl.
The girl was brown—like me, and the message was clear. Hiram was a racist dick.
A complete Colonel Blimp.
Ruthless, savage and hateful. The fucker wasn't from a bad background, nor had he experienced any violence as a child. It was just who he was.
I of course payed no mind to his threats. No one was going to force me down from my pedestal just because they disliked my skin color or preserved archaic notions of femineity.
Hiram's henchmen then began to sow seeds of discord among my pack, whispering that a woman was not fit to lead and offering patriarchal innuendos. But my pack—they were the best. Loyal... until death.
My feet slams harder on the accelerator of my car as I push hard, dangerously brushing the speed limit. I didn't care. I needed blood. We needed blood.
My polished round-frame glasses reflect my burning amber eyes now glazed over because of my wolf pushing up to the surface.
The image of my pack's stiff and ashy dangling corpses torn to shreds flashes before my eyes and my claws immediately tear out, ripping right through the steering like a thread.
"Christ!" I rasp, immediately easing up a little on the accelerator.
My fingers loosen on the wheel and I put it at the back of my mind to replace the wheel's overlay. I push a button to the side and the windows slide down. I take deep breaths of the cool natural air to calm my wolf within.
The air is a welcome cleanness, and like a slow extinguishing fire, she retreats back under my skin. My eyes clear back to a human gray, my claws retract and I focus once more on the road ahead.
I will not be like Hiram and his little band of ass-kissers. When my revenge comes, it will stun the Ferals with a careful meticulous brilliance.
I drive again for five minutes before I halt the vehicle in front of a spacious parking lot. My strides are long as I move for my university office, and a few stunned women look my way. I know exactly what they think.
How the hell does she rock those six-inch heels?
Truth be told, I didn't do the rocking. It was feline fluidity, plain and simple.
I stop at my office's entrance and my stilettos click sharp on the brown floors. The receptionist, a young final year student with cute strawberry hair immediately lifts her eyes to mine. They dwell longer than is necessary and I lower my eyes.
It wasn't her fault that she was attracted to me—not entirely. I was used to it: people staring at me like I belonged in a gallery or in some businessman's flowery mansion. That didn't mean I indulged their fantasies—at least not always.
The girl lowers her eyes too.
"There is someone waiting for you. I let him in if that's okay... he has being here awhile."
I nod to her, give her a small smile and hurriedly walk away.
I immediately freeze the moment I push open the doors.
Right there in front of me was my own fantasy: tall, brown-eyed, and beautiful. The young student.
We just stand there awkwardly staring at each other.
The doors are still open behind me as I wonder how many times I had imagined him naked. I wonder what he thinks too. I could easily know if I opened my mind connection to him but that would give me away. I had to play it safe.
So I silently shut the doors and walk across to my desk. My heels click sharply in the all-too quiet office, my heart pounds within my chest as I feel his hazel eyes skim over my back. Over my hips and legs.
I stop in front of the burnished oakwood, still standing. I slowly lift my eyes off the brown table surface and meet his eyes.
Fuck me! The boy was gorgeous. My wolf purrs sexily under my skin. Down girl! I push back.
His chocolate eyes meet mine and I immediately remember we haven't said a single word to each other.
"Should I know who you are?" I blurt out and instantly regret it because 'white chocolate' goes all pink on me.
The nickname I had given him in my head makes him more alluring.
Slowly, I take my seat and wait for him to reply. I make sure to keep my eyes firmly rooted to his face—which is still a bad idea.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice like whispers. A bedroom voice.
"I'm Ryan. Ryan Hallow."
I smile at him then, unable to help it and he smiles also. This time I'm the one who has to hide my face in embarrassment. He notices this and his smile stretches wider. The downward cast of my eyes brings his lower body to view.
I do not look away... Toned body... Strong thighs... Sprinter legs... My gaze lands square on his crotch...
Christ! I immediately clear my throat.
"I'm Dr. Crane. Nice to meet you Ryan. Please take a seat," I say. Even my voice sounds raspy to me.
I meet his eyes again. He instantly looks away but not before I catch where his gaze was. Right on my tits.
I had to give him one. White Chocolate was bold. I fumble with a few papers on my desk.
How was I to teach him when all we could do was stare at each other and pray we kept our hands to ourselves?
My wolf gives me a knowing push and I close my eyes in denial. It was clear as day now.
The young man before me was my mate.