DARIEN
My office smelled like the coffee I had on my desk.
The window was cracked open just enough to let in the damp October air, but not enough to wash out the almond and lavender that lingered in my head. I'd washed my hands twice, changed my shirt, even aired out the car. It didn't matter. Her scent clung like a mark I hadn't earned yet.
"Still pretending you don't care?"
Onyx's voice rippled through my head, low and edged with amusement.
I ignored him, flipping through Aria Winters' academic file. Her grades were scattered like broken glass — flashes of brilliance buried under inconsistency.
"She's reckless. Emotional. Unfocused."
"She's ours".
My jaw tightened. "She's a student."
"She's the one".
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You don't know that."
"You grabbed a man by the throat because he touched her".
"Because he was manhandling a drunk girl. And that was your fault. Don't blame it on me".
"You don't do that for drunk girls, Darien. You do that for your mate".
I slammed the folder shut. "You're insufferable."
"And you're in denial".
The knock came just as I was considering how much bourbon it would take to silence him. Three sharp taps — hesitant, but not weak.
"Come in."
The door creaked open. Aria stood there, hair in a ponytail and a hairband wrapped around her head, a notebook clutched to her chest like a shield. She looked smaller in the doorway with her white tennis skirt and polo shirt and ribbed vest, but her eyes — those wide, hazel eyes — met mine without flinching.
"Professor Hedgegrove," she said, voice soft but steady.
I gestured to the chair in front of my desk. "Sit."
She obeyed, fidgeting with her fingers as I leaned back in my seat.
"You missed your test," I said. "That doesn't just vanish because you said sorry."
"I know," she murmured.
"I don't tolerate inconsistency, Miss Winters. So here's what's going to happen."
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine.
"You're going to write me a ten-page reflection journal on Behavioral Economics — specifically, how human emotions influence irrational financial decisions. In your words. No copy-paste. No excuses."
She blinked. "Ten pages?"
"Yes. And starting tomorrow, you'll meet me here every evening at six. You'll study, and you'll do it my way. Miss a day, and the deal's off. No second chances."
She bit her lip. "And if I don't?"
I leaned forward, voice dropping an octave. "Then I'll fail you, and I'll make sure every faculty member knows why. You'll start over next semester."
Her breath hitched, but she nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Sir". Onyx chuckled darkly inside my head. "She said it".
"Good girl," I murmured before I could stop myself.
Her eyes widened, heat blooming on her cheeks — and I knew I was already in deeper than I intended.
° ° ° °
The door clicked shut behind her, soft but final. The kind of sound that lingered longer than it should have.
Silence crawled back into the room, broken only by the faint hum of the fan and the soft scratch of my pen against the desk.
I tried to focus on the folder in front of me—her grades, her assignments, the pitiful attendance record—but my mind kept circling back to the tremor in her voice when she said yes, sir.
My wolf stirred. "You liked that too much".
"Shut up."
"You heard her heartbeat? Fast. Not fear—something else"
"She's my student."
"She's your mate".
"She's nineteen, Onyx."
"And you're acting like that makes a damn bit of difference to instinct".
I pinched the bridge of my nose and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. The fluorescent light buzzed faintly, too bright, too cold. Everything felt wrong. Everything but the scent she left behind—almond and lavender, faint, clinging to the air like temptation.
"She's not ready," I said, though I wasn't sure who I was convincing—Onyx or myself.
"You mean you're not ready".
My jaw clenched. "She doesn't even know what she is."
"Then teach her. That's what you're good at, isn't it?"
"I'm not dragging her into this life."
"You already have".
I slammed the folder shut again, the sound cracking through the room. My pulse was unsteady, my breath uneven. The wolf wasn't wrong—and that was the problem.
I stood up, crossed to the window, and looked out at the campus. Students were scattering like ants below, laughing, chatting, living.
And there I was—an alpha heir pretending to be human, staring after a girl who didn't know she carried the same blood in her veins.
"She's a student," I repeated quietly. "A brilliant, reckless, irritating student."
"Our brilliant, reckless, irritating mate", Onyx purred, amusement threading through his voice.
"Keep talking, and I'll muzzle you."
"You tried that once. Remind me how that ended?"
My reflection stared back at me in the glass—brown eyes, rimmed faintly gold. I blinked, forcing the wolf down.
"She needs to focus on her studies," I said, more to myself this time. "She'll write that essay, and that'll be the end of it."
"You keep saying that, Darien. But we both know nothing ends with her".