"Because I'm not supposed to care whether you matter or not. I'm supposed to teach you history and maintainprofessional boundaries and..." He stops himself, shaking his head.
"And what?"
"That's enough. The session is over. You can leave now."
"No."
His head snaps up and I see genuine shock cross his face before he can hide it. Students don't refuse Professor Harmon. Especially not students who should be grateful he's giving them any attention at all.
"Miss Bardot, I'm telling you to leave."
"And I'm telling you I'm not going anywhere until you explain why you've been avoiding me." I lean forward slightly. "You said everything about me is your concern. You said that. So explain to me why you won't even look at me."
He stands abruptly, the movement sharp enough that his chair scrapes against the floor. He turns away from me to face the bookshelf behind his desk, and I can see the tension radiating through his entire body. His hands have curled into fists at his sides and his shoulders are rigid.
The heat makes me hyperaware of everything. The sound of his breathing. The scent of cedar that gets stronger when he moves. The distance between us that feels both too much and not nearly enough.
"You don't understand what you're asking," he says eventually.
"Then help me understand."
"I refuse to." His voice is rough and strained. "You need to leave. Now. Just go."
I should listen. I should pick up my bag and walk out and stop pushing him. But I can't. I need to understand why the one person who made me feel seen is now trying to pretend I don't exist.
He turns around and the look on his face stops whatever I was going to say next. There's no professional mask anymore. No careful control. Just raw honesty that looks almost painful.
"I'm trying to forget all the reasons why I can't have you," he says quietly. "And you being in this room isn't helping."
I watch his breathing come too fast, watch the muscle jump in his jaw. Whatever control he usually maintains has been pushed to its absolute limit.
He closes his eyes like the words hurt. When he opens them again, some of that control has returned. "Please go, Miss Bardot. Please."
The please breaks something in me. I pick up my bag and walk to the door, but I can't leave without saying one more thing. My hand rests on the handle and I turn back to look at him.
"I'm not afraid of you, you know."
He closes his eyes like the words hurt. When he opens them again, they're darker than I've ever seen them. Not quite his wolf but close enough that I can see the amber bleeding through the brown. The air between us feels charged with something dangerous.
"You should be afraid of what I might do if you stay."
The words send a shiver through me that has nothing to do with fear. His eyes are still dark, still watching me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. I can feel something pulling at me, the same way I felt it with Caspian in the hallway, that invisible thread trying to connect us. The heat makes it worse, makes everything feel too intense, too raw.
I force myself to turn away before I do something stupid like walk back to him. I leave, then close the door behind me and lean against the wall in the corridor, trying to catch my breath. My whole body feels like it's been electrified. I can still smell cedar and old books, can still see the look on his face when he said he can't have me.
Something is happening between us that I don't fully understand, but I know it's forbidden and dangerous, and I know that we're both losing the fight to stay away from each other.
I make it back to my dorm without really seeing the path I take. Lily is already asleep, which is good because I don't want to explain why my hands are shaking.
I change into sleep clothes and get into bed, but sleep is impossible. My body is too restless, the heat symptoms flaring back up with a vengeance after days of leveling off. I lie there staring at the ceiling and replaying Julian's words over and over.I'm trying to forget all the reasons why I can't have you.
That's when the pain hits.
It's sharp and sudden, like someone drove a hook under my sternum and yanked hard. I gasp and sit up, clutching my chest as the pain intensifies and spreads through my ribs. There's something pulling at me, something trying to connect to something else, and I know instinctively what this is even though I don't want to know.
"Nova?" Lily's voice cuts through the pain. "What's wrong?"
I can't answer because I can't breathe properly. The pulling sensation is so strong now that I know exactly where it's coming from. The boys' dormitory. Nico.
