A wolf. Black fur, massive even at this distance, sitting on the grass with its head tilted up toward my window. I know it's Knox before my brain even finishes processing what I'm seeing. I don't know how I know, but I do. The same way I knew it was him standing outside the library earlier today. Some part of me recognizes him even when he's not in human form.
I should close the curtains and go back to bed. Should pretend I didn't see him. But I don't.
Instead I open the window. The cold air hits my overheated skin and I gasp at the shock of it, but it feels good. Helps clear my head slightly. Knox's ears prick forward but otherwise he doesn't react.
We stare at each other across the distance. Girl in the window, wolf on the grass. I lean out slightly, my hands gripping the windowsill, and he stands. The movement is fluid and graceful, nothing like his human form. He's completely alert now, attentive, waiting to see what I'll do.
I don't know what makes me put my hand out. It's a stupid gesture, meaningless across this much space. But I do it anyway. Palm up like I'm offering something or asking for something or just acknowledging that he's there and I see him.
Knox makes a sound. Not quite a howl, something lower and more contained. Almost like a whine but not quite. Thenhe turns and runs, disappearing into the tree line in seconds. I watch until I can't see him anymore, until he's just another shadow among the other shadows.
I close the window and go back to bed. Pull the covers up and stare at the ceiling some more. My hand still feels warm from where I held it out, like the gesture meant something even though we never touched.
When I finally fall asleep, I dream of running through the forest on four legs that aren't mine. The ground is soft under paws I don't have. Trees blur past on either side as I run faster than I've ever run before. And beside me, matching my pace stride for stride, is a black wolf with pale eyes that glow silver in the moonlight.
We run together until the dream shifts into something else, something I won't remember when I wake up. But for those few perfect moments in the forest that isn't real, I'm not alone. I'm not afraid. I'm just running with him beside me like that's where I'm supposed to be.
Chapter Fifteen
Julian’s POV
The summons arrives during my morning office hours, delivered by a student assistant who seems particularly interested in the floor tiles. Headmaster Owen requests my presence at my earliest convenience.
I walk through the administrative wing trying not to let myself spiral into worst-case scenarios, but my mind goes there anyway because that's what happens when you're doing something forbidden. Every summons feels like exposure. Every unexpected conversation feels like the moment everything falls apart.
Owen's office door is open when I arrive. He's at his desk surrounded by the organized chaos of student files and academy business, and he waves me in without looking up from whatever he's annotating.
"Sit, Julian. This won't take long."
I sit and wait while he finishes his notation. The silence doesn't bother me. I've built a career on patience and the abilityto show nothing I don't want seen. But underneath the calm exterior my wolf is prowling, anxious, alert to any threat.
He finally sets down his pen and looks at me with that assessing expression that makes junior professors nervous. "I wanted to get your take on Miss Bardot. You've been tutoring her consistently."
The relief hits me so hard I have to concentrate on keeping it off my face. He doesn't know. This is about her academic performance, nothing more.
"She's improving steadily," I say, keeping my tone measured and professional even though my pulse just started returning to normal. "Her initial understanding of the material was weak but she's been putting in significant effort. The additional tutoring is having the intended effect."
"Good. That's what Cross and Winters reported as well." Owen leans back in his chair, fingers steepled together in that way he has when he's thinking through a problem. "Her arrival here was somewhat unconventional. No pack documentation, unclear background, that business with her aunt's death. And now I'm hearing reports from students about an incident with the Dominion, though the details are unclear."
I keep my expression neutral even though everything in me wants to demand what incident, who reported it, is she safe. "I'm not aware of the specifics."
"Neither am I, which is part of the problem." He sighs and runs a hand through his graying hair. "Julian, I'm asking you to keep an eye on her. You see her more frequently than most faculty. If there's something we should be concerned about, something that might become a larger issue, I'd like to know before it escalates. I've asked the same of her other professors. She's an unknown quantity in a school that doesn't handle unknowns particularly well."
This is permission. Carte blanche to watch her, to pay attention, to justify the time I spend thinking about her academic welfare. Owen has no idea what he's asking me to do. Has no idea that watching Nova Bardot is the single most dangerous assignment he could possibly give me.
"Of course," I manage. "I'll keep you informed if I notice anything concerning."
"I appreciate it. Not all faculty are as dedicated to struggling students as you are." He picks up his pen again, already moving on to the next crisis. "That's all I needed."
I leave his office and walk back to my own. The corridor feels longer than usual, every step weighted with the conversation that just happened. When I get to my office, closing the door feels like sealing myself away from a problem I can't solve.
He doesn't know. Doesn't suspect anything beyond academic concern. Which means I've been maintaining better control than I thought, at least in public. But the private reality is something else entirely.
I've been avoiding her for days. Canceling tutoring sessions and having other professors cover. Leaving the dining hall when she enters. Taking different routes through the building so I won't accidentally cross her path. All because her scent has changed and being near her has become physically painful in ways I can barely articulate.
Her heat. I know what it is even if she doesn't. Every unmated male within a hundred yards can smell it, that subtle shift from the citrus-and-wild scent she normally carries to something warmer, richer, utterly impossible to ignore. My wolf recognized what she is to me a while ago, but during her heat the pull has been unbearable. The urge to find her, to claim her, to mark her as mine has been clawing at my control every waking moment.
Staying away has been torture. But being near her would be worse. Would be the loss of control that gets both of us executed under Council law.
