Chapter 19
REGINA
Finding Professor Villeneuveon campus proves easier than expected. He's sitting on a stone bench near the philosophy building, a leather-bound book open in his lap and a paper cup of coffee in hand.
He looks like something out of a dark academia Pinterest board. The man has style, no doubt about that.
I approach with what I hope is confidence, and pray that whatever he is doesn't have the ability to hear my blood pressure. The bond pulses with distant anxiety from four directions. My wolves, all scattered across campus, all unhappy about me doing this alone.
Villeneuve looks up before I'm within speaking distance. Of course he does. He probably heard me coming from the parking lot.
"Ms. Cook." He closes his book with a soft snap, one eyebrow arching. "I'm surprised you're without your usual entourage. No growling shadows lurking in the bushes today?"
"They're in class." I stop a few feet away, keeping my voice neutral. "Except Micah, who got called into an emergency football team meeting. Whatever that even is."
"Ah. The Homecoming float situation, I imagine." At my blank look, he waves a dismissive hand. "Campus politics. Tedious but unavoidable, even in a school full of magic practitioners."
"Right." I shift my weight, suddenly aware of how exposed I feel without at least one massive alpha at my back. "They're not happy about me being here alone."
"I imagine not." Villeneuve's lips curve into something that would look like amusement on a less intimidating face. "Four alpha wolves forced to attend lectures and campus errands while their newly bonded mate confronts the mysterious professor unsupervised. The horror."
"They're protective."
"They're territorial." He gestures to the empty space on the bench beside him. "But since they've graciously allowed you to venture forth unescorted, perhaps we could speak? You clearly have something on your mind."
I hesitate for exactly one second before sitting. The stone is cold through my jeans, but the morning sun provides enough warmth to make it tolerable. Villeneuve produces a second coffee cup from beside him—when did that get there?—and offers it to me.
"Vanilla latte," he says. "Two sugars. I believe that's your preference?"
"You knew I'd come."
"I had a hunch. The deadline is tomorrow evening."
I take the cup, trying not to show how unsettling it is that he knows my coffee order. "Do you keep files on everyone's beverage preferences, or just potential teaching assistants?"
"I observe." He takes a sip of his own coffee, looking out across the quad where students hurry between buildings. "It's a useful skill in my line of work."
"Ancient History and Occult Studies?"
"Among other things."
We sit in silence for a moment. The coffee is perfect, exactly how I like it. Okay, so that'sslightlystrange.
"I've made a decision," I say finally. "About your offer."
He doesn't react, just continues watching the passing students with that unreadable expression. "I assumed as much, given that you sought me out alone despite your pack's objections."
"I'm going to accept."
Still no reaction. "Excellent."
"But I have conditions."
Now he turns to look at me, and there's something new in those dark eyes. Interest, maybe. Or he's planning something. With Villeneuve, it's hard to tell the difference.
"Conditions," he repeats, his accent curling around the word. "How intriguing. Please, elaborate."
I wrap my hands around the warm cup, using it as an anchor. "First, I want our working relationship kept separate from your sponsorship of the pack. You're their faculty advisor, fine. But when I'm in your office or your classroom, I'm your teachingassistant. Not the wolves' mate. Not Lupe Tau's Bonded. Just Regina Cook, graduate student."
