The smell was actually coming from there.
When I lifted the lid, I found several warm almond croissants sitting in a neat line, fresh from the oven. Maybe it was the smell, the pleasant surprise, or the fact that a particular scent lingered there, but my day no longer seemed so bad.
A ripped-off note sat next to it, written in a messy scrawl.
Heard you liked these.
For my gorgeous mate.
Sorry about storming off at the party.
—L.
CHAPTER 28
YVAINE
Rudolph and I called each other every evening that week—a proper nightly ritual.
I’d sit curled up in some corner of my room with my monster-size book, repeating endless pages stuffed with medical terms, while he quizzed me with a degree of patience that deserved a medal. Or at least free matcha for life. He listened, corrected me, challenged me with that annoyingly persuasive tone of his, and at times argued just for the sake of it—probably to make sure I was awake and not drooling all over the monster (book). I wondered if he even had friends.
Or if his mate knew how much we really talked.
I never would have dared to beg Lachlan or my friends for this kind of academic torture—they would’ve run back to the pack. But Rudy had offered, insisted, and never once made it feel like a chore. We were proper e-pen friends by now.
Oh, and no, he still hadn’t managed to get my mate’s number.
That afternoon, I finally stumbled out of the grandiose anatomy building like the survivor I was. Two straight hours of a written test, with Sillas also present to collect and distribute the exam sheets, followed by a forty-five-minute oral exam. Tizianoand Amaia were still stuck inside. The moment my feet met sunlight, I dialed Rudolph. No hesitation; I needed to debrief.
The reindeer, who answered on the second ring, was apparently in a study room on DD’s campus—and, judging by how fast he picked up, he was doing zero studying, almost too keen to ditch his study group and group project. Again, he had to be a terrible student.
“I’m dead. I don’t think I can use an extra ounce of my mangled brain,” I muttered, dragging my legs as they reluctantly worked their way past a coffee cart being swarmed by a group of students looking equally devastated.
His deep chuckle buzzed through the line, making me purse my lips. “Congratulations, Bunny Doc. I’m proud of you and your scrambled-egg brain. You need to celebrate.”
After giving him a quick breakdown of the exam—without realizing how genuinely interested he was—we kept chatting as if neither of us had anything better to do.
“So, what’s on the schedule now?”
Ideally, a nap until next Tuesday.
“Lach promised to cook for me, and then we’ll probably watch a Western together, assuming we both stay conscious long enough.” I rubbed at my temples. My brother was just as devastated by the combo of his midterm exams, the fierce wereball training, and the dreadful upcoming game. “I haven’t seen him once this week, since he has training with the team every single day. They’re working on a new strategy for the Dark Diamonds’ match,” I said without thinking. “Oops, sorry. Classified info.”
“New strategy, huh?” There was a short pause. I could practically hear the smirk through the phone. “What, Bunny Doc? You think I’d use illicit information against the Comets? I’m shocked. Wounded, even.”
“Who, you?” I snorted. “In your dreams, when you actually make it to the game.”
“That hurts, Bunny Doc. Especially from someone who’s never touched a wereball in her life.”
“Youdon’t even know how to play! And, even if you did know our new strategy, what are you going to do? Go to my mate and say,Oh, I heard from a Comet that the Comets have a new plan!”
“No, I don’t need to tell him,” he huffed. “Not when the captain is going to smash your Comety asses, turning them into cosmic crumbs of useless dirt.”
“A comet is a celestial object made of dust…and ice. And a tail of gas.”
“I’ll grab the tail, then.”
I snorted out a laugh. His voice was unknotting the string of tension in my spine.
