Lynda lowers herself into the chair, perching on the edge like she’s prepared to run at any moment. I settle in deeper, hoping she’ll eventually relax too. Before I have a chance to say anything, she lets out a hefty sigh and turns her head to face the open door. That’s when I notice a guy standing in the hallway. “What are you doing?” Lynda half growls at him. He’s twice her size, but she doesn’t seem intimidated at all.
“I’m waitin’ in the hall,” he answers with a thick accent. I’d guess New York or New Jersey, not that I’m overly familiar with either. His dark hair is a little messy, but in a stylish sort of way. He looks almost sheepish, with his hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans.
Lynda’s lips pinch, but she glances over at me. “I told him to wait downstairs, sorry.”
“Do you want him to go?” I plant my hands on the arms of the chair, more than ready to tell the young man that he needs to leave.
“Nah, he won’t be any trouble.” A little louder, she adds, “He’s a pain in the butt, but he means well.”
The guy lowers his head a little and steps to the left of the doorframe. I know he doesn’t go too far, though, because I can see the side of his arm as he props himself against the wall.
I lean a little closer to Lynda and keep my voice low when I ask, “Do you want me to close the door for privacy?” I know the boy in the hall would have heard me. He’s a supe, and I’m just starting to understand how keen their senses are.
Lynda uses her left hand to push her hair back from her face, running her fingers through the long, dark locks. “No point, he’s my mate. I got nothin’ to hide.” She lets out a soft chuckle. “Can’t believe I get halfway across the county and find my mate the first night I get here.” She doesn’t sound upset, but she doesn’t sound overly excited either. Considering I just found out I’m supposed to be Evan and Griffin’s mate, I understand just how overwhelming that can be, and she can’t be more than seventeen.
“Wow, you guys are young. Is that common?”
Lynda shrugs and peers at me from the side, as if she’s not sure how much she should tell me. Realizing that’s not a question I should be asking a student, I clear my throat and flip open her file. I note her arrival date is just a few weeks ago, and I scan over the information provided, which isn’t much.
She starts digging through her bag, and I use her distraction to take in her appearance again. The oversized shirt takes on a new light. I’d bet it’s his. I know the times I’ve worn Griffin’s, I’ve liked it. I force myself to get out of my head and focus on why I scheduled the appointment with her in the first place. “You arrived pretty recently, how are things going so far?” Considering she’s a senior and hasn’t been enrolled long, we may have a little catching up to do to get her prepared.
Lynda gives me a half-hearted shrug, not making eye contact with me. “It’s different, but in a good way…I guess.” She picks at the frayed fabric of her jeans after placing her bag on the ground near her feet.
“All your classes are going well?” She shrugs again. I close the file. It doesn’t give me anything useful, it’s just basic information—birthdate, height, weight, eye color, and the fact that she’s a shifter.
“Why am I here?” She finally regards me with a little interest, her eyes narrowed slightly in a shrewd stare. “I haven’t gotten into any trouble, and the stuff before, well…” She lets the sentence hang.
“You’re not in any trouble. I’ve been meeting with all the seniors and just checking in to see if there’s anything I can help with, like schedules or scholarship applications,” I inform her lightly. The way her brows rise makes me think she’s either surprised or suspicious.
“Scholarship applications, like for college?”
“Or vocational schools. Do you have a plan for what you would like to do when you graduate?”
She lets out a little snort and pushes her hair back. It’s the first time I get a good look at her heart-shaped face. She has a light smattering of freckles over the bridge of her nose and cheeks. “Before a few weeks ago, I would have been lucky to find a pack to take me in without expecting a tithe.”
I hear a growl come from the hall before I see the young man who arrived with Lynda charge into my office.
Evan
Taking the stairs two at a time, I make it up to the third floor quickly. Griff called a few minutes ago and informed me that he wouldn’t be available for a while. He didn’t give me much of a chance to ask what was going on before hanging up on me—he can be such a dick. I took it as an invitation to check on Quinn though. I’m not sure if Griff is still in his office, and I don’t like her all the way up here if he’s not.
There’s a kid leaning against the wall next to her door. His shoulders are a little hunched as he pushes his head closer to the office, like he’s gearing up to go inside or eavesdropping. I let my bear rise to the surface. It takes me a millisecond to assess the boy. He’s a bear, which takes me a little by surprise. There aren’t that many of us compared to the wolves. He’s not a polar, maybe a brown, but that doesn’t really matter. He’s strong, not a true alpha, but fairly powerful. Having all that information only tells me one thing—I don’t like him creeping around Quinn’s office.
He’s so focused on what’s happening in the room, the boy doesn’t even notice my approach. It also speaks to his inexperience. If I was half as imperceptive as he is, I wouldn’t have lived until my twelfth birthday. Just before I ask him what the hell he’s doing, the kid lets out a snarl and dashes into Quinn’s office.
I react on instinct. My bear takes over in a partial shift, leaving my arms covered in thick white fur and my fingers tipped with deadly claws. I spring forward and end up right behind him as he breaches the doorway.
I reach for the kid, locking my hands around his upper arms, but my eyes are already seeking out Quinn. A young girl jumps up from a chair and lets out a scream that would rival a banshee’s. Her hands come up as she covers her mouth, while her eyes are as big as saucers as she gapes at me and the boy, who isn’t going anywhere at this point, not unless he rips off his own arms to get away from me.
I track Quinn’s movements as she rises, much slower than the girl, and takes a step toward me, which puts her closer to the bear in my grasp. I jerk the kid a little harder, and I feel my claws sink into the meaty parts of his upper arms. My bear makes a chuffing sound of approval.
“Evan!” Quinn exclaims with a hint of censure in her tone. The girl whips her head to the left to stare at Quinn as if she thinks she’s lost her damn mind. “He’s bleeding.” She takes another step closer. I look down at the shifter in my hold. Never once did I worry about him hurting me, since it’s clear I’m more powerful than him, but Quinn is human, fragile. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him or most of the kids at this school. I really don’t care if he’s bleeding.
“What the fuck are you doing?” My voice comes out garbled, which I’m sure has to do with the fact that I have canines that would rival a vampire’s fangs since I’m in my partially shifted form.
“He’s here for me.” The girl lowers her hands from her face, but her eyes still look like they’re about to burst out of her head.
“Is he bothering you?” I shake the boy a little, and I’m rewarded when the fresh scent of his blood fills the room.
