Or she could sleep in your room again.

  I ignored the subconscious prompting because I realized she would probably never want to sleep in my room again. I had left before she had woken up, so she had woken alone. I was a bastard. A scared bastard, because the moment the light had started to crawl across my bedroom floor, I’d all but leapt out of bed. I had gotten ready quickly before heading to her room and making sure to unpack everything that we’d bought, wanting at least some assurance that she would be warm today since I wouldn’t be around to make sure she dressed accordingly. That was all I had time to do before anxiety had gotten the best of me and I had run from the dorms, having no idea what to say to her after the night we had spent in bed together.

  Thank you for putting a blanket over me? Thank you for waking me from my usual string of nightmares? Thank you for showing me a small amount of kindness and comfort that I had never been afforded in my life? Thank you for pulverizing my chest and making me feel as though I was suffocating on my own trauma? Thank you for making me feel like the lost, scared kid that still resided in my subconscious?

  Yeah, that was the best way to impress your fucking mate. I suppose I could have only made it worse by telling her that she was the first person ever to be in bed with me that wasn’t there for what they were promised. Effie was the first person I’d ever cuddled with. But telling her that would probably make her realize what a freak I was, so I had just left because I didn’t trust myself not to say some stupid shit.

  I knew she would never smile at me like she did at Julian. Never gravitate towards me like she did with Tore. Or look at me with a softness and trust that Dakota very much did not deserve. No. I had a feeling that she would never look at me like that at all. I wasn’t positive how I would describe her expression when she looked at me.

  Confused? Worried? Seemed about right. Although, there was a level of protectiveness and affection I had felt coming off of her that meant more to me than she would ever realize. Desire also, but that wasn’t nearly as important to me in some ways. Desire was nothing new in my life, and unfortunately, it usually didn’t spell anything good.

  So yeah, affection and protectiveness? A bit shocking to my system.

  Not that I wasn’t ridiculously fucking attracted to her. Not that I didn’t want her underneath me. No, I wanted all of that and so much more, and I loved the fact that she probably smelled like me right now. It wasn’t much, but if she even thought about us in bed together once today, that was enough for me. I just wanted to occupy a small space in her head since she was occupying literally all of mine.

  A growl nearly broke from my throat thinking about her in my bed all night, soft and vulnerable. Trusting. I wanted to eat up every inch of that delicious body. I wanted to feel the way she squeezed my cock in her tight heat as I pinned her against my mattress and tangled my hands in her soft hair. I wanted to fuck her. For the first time in my life, I actively wanted to fuck someone. Considering the sexual abuse I’d undergone, I had never in my life felt that way before. It was jarring, to say the least.

  Hell, I didn’t even give a fuck that she was clearly a virgin. I knew she was inexperienced, and I wanted to be the one to teach her everything she wanted to know. I wanted to blow her fucking mind so that she would never forget it. Forget me. I wanted lust and heat to tint her gaze when she looked at me, if nothing else. It would have to be enough, because I had nothing else that would hold her to me. It was the only thing I could give her. It was all I had been able to give anyone, ever.

  There was a larger issue, though, one that she never needed to know, but would haunt me and probably bury me eventually. The issue? I didn’t just want to fuck Effie. I wanted to make love to her, something I had absolutely no idea how to do. I didn’t do soft and romantic, and that was what she would want. What she deserved. I would end up hurting her. I would be too rough. I didn’t know how to fuck differently, and every sexual experience since my first had been very much the opposite of what someone like Effie would want.

  Anxiety pulsed in my chest as I shook the images that went through my head. Memories and nightmares. I would never hurt her like I had been hurt, but it didn’t stop my urge to touch her. Taste her. I hated touching people or being touched, but I wanted her hands on me as I kissed every inch of her. Maybe I could manage to make her cum enough that she got addicted to it and wanted me around purely for that. Maybe I didn’t even need to fuck her. If I could just taste her, that would be enough for the rest of my fucking life.

  I nearly groaned, feeling more conflicted than ever.

  I could not get over the image of waking up and finding her curled up against the radiator on the floor. How often had I been in that exact position following one of the sessions I’d gone through as a teenager? To say it was triggering was an understatement.

  I should have realized something was going on, though, when my usual poor night of sleep turned into a lulled, warm cocoon and my nightmares slipped away. I had woken up then, finding myself wrapped in a comforter before looking down to find Effie on my floor, clearly having covered me in her blanket.

  No one had ever done that before. No one had ever taken care of me to any extent.

  I had been left in cold, clinical mansions as a child, and the only time that was disturbed was when my father found the time to abuse me. Then the other times… I was in an equally clinical room. Strapped down. Abused. Sexually. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Again and again. By women and men alike.

  Shaking myself, I moved my thoughts back to Effie. Effie Harlow, who had the complete power to hurt and break me. I didn’t think she would. But she could. I had stared at her for hours after sitting on the floor by her, watching her every facial expression as she shifted and mumbled in her sleep, my thoughts revolving around the notion of accepting that we had a mate.

  I had hoped for so long that we wouldn’t have a mate. Had hoped for so long that I wouldn’t have to form this bond. Now, I wanted to, and while I knew the guys were upset with me… there was nothing I could do about the past. My father couldn’t change the bond either. Although, I hadn’t fought him when he had moved me to the other floor to distance myself from the pack he didn’t approve of. I could have fought harder. Like I said, I had been running.

  Now, I was scared that if I said too much, she would get upset. So I had said nothing, just staring at her until I finally lost my nerve and left. I wasn’t positive what I kept expecting from her, except that she would hurt me. Instead, she continued to fuck with my head, and every time that she showed some level of insecurity, it had me wanting to support her. To protect her. To give her anything she needed.

  I was not the person for the job, but I didn’t know what else to do.

  Dakota’s gaze met mine as he offered me a challenging look. I cursed under my breath, hating the man that had been one of my best friends for so long and knew me, knew my internal conflict. With a small exhale, I bit the bullet, knowing I was going to regret my crossing towards the bookstore. But I didn’t want to be left out of the circle of warmth that seemed to radiate from her. I may just stand there staring at her, but I needed to at least be close in case she wanted to offer me some level of attention.

  My heart shattered as her eyes moved to mine, as if sensing my closeness. Someone moved out of my way, quickly, looking panicked as I reached her. I knew I scared people on campus, but I couldn’t give a fuck. As long as I didn’t scare her.

  Without saying anything to the others, I took a risk and gently pulled her from Dakota and against my chest. The guy gathering her books made a surprised noise, but I didn’t care. People already fucking knew what was going on; I just needed to tell my father. For now, I just buried my nose in her hair, and despite the tremble running through me, I held her tighter. I didn’t feel affection for anyone except for her. Except for this.

  Dakota oddly didn’t say anything, and I didn’t risk meeting his gaze. I knew a challenging look could start shit between us. When I pulled back, I saw a bit of confusion and hurt in her gaze. I absolutely appreciated how apparent her emotions were. For someone like me that was literally emotionally illiterate, it helped a fuck ton. I resisted the urge to tuck her under my chin and wrap her up completely, keeping her as safe as I could.

  “You left this morning,” she accused softly. I had. Because I’d been goddamn terrified of the effect this little bitten wolf had on me. I also knew that if I had watched this angelic being wake up in my bed, I would have never let her leave. I would have kept her there, curled against me like a kitten. So instead I had left.

  “I did, mon ange,” I murmured, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry.”

  You know what I wasn’t sorry for? The calls I made about her fucking pack back home. I wanted information on every single fucking person that touched her. I wanted to know everything about my angel. My small piece of beauty and paradise that I didn’t deserve in the least. My redemption on my broken soul.

  I knew what I’d gone through before coming here wasn’t normal. I even knew, in some part of my consciousness, that it wasn’t my fault. It didn’t change the fact that my soul felt dirty and dark compared to her. I didn’t want to taint her with my fucked-up nature, but I also didn’t want to let her go. I would just have to give her… everything, and hope that it was enough for her. Enough to keep her at least somewhat interested in me.

  “What does ‘mon ange’ mean?” she asked curiously as one of the guys picked up her books and took care of the cost. We had a joint account as a blood-bonded pack. I wasn’t positive how the other blood-bonded packs handled it, but we had figured this was the simplest solution. It was also something we had never used until very recently.

  “Later.” I pulled back gently, feeling a bit embarrassed at the nickname. “Have you gone to class yet today?”

  “She’s in your Economics class,” Tore offered. Almost instantly I growled, thinking about all the motherfuckers that were in that class. All the bastards that would be looking at her. Then it occurred to me that she was, in fact, in Economics.

  “Econ?” I arched a brow with curiosity, her eyes running over my expression with surprise. Probably because my emotions changed on a dime.

  She shrugged, blushing, as if embarrassed by her interest. But fuck, I found that attractive as well. There was no reason for it, and it may have just been wanting to know more about her, but I found myself intrigued by everything about her. And simultaneously terrified that what I learned would only wrap me up in her web further.

  I knew I needed to move my shit down a floor today, and we needed to have a conversation about switching floors because there was no way that was going to happen now. I didn’t want anyone in Effie’s room, even temporarily. The space carried her scent, and if other men smelled it, they could want her. I wasn’t okay with that, even if I considered the men in question friends. I just needed to tell them the deal was off when I moved some more of my stuff down today.

  They would understand. They would also want to meet her.

  I wasn’t ready for that. Effie was ours, and I hated that she was even out here right now. I looked at Effie’s new backpack that Julian carried, holding her new purchases, and as we walked out of the store, I realized that she didn’t have a computer. I had an extra, but I wanted to purchase her a laptop. Well, I wanted to buy her a ton of shit, actually.

  The woman deserved to be in silk. She deserved everything, and I hated that she hadn’t been treated like a princess her entire life. Like a precious possession. If I had her in my pack, I would have never let her go. Ever.

  I dropped my hold on Effie as she walked next to me, her other hand occupied by Julian’s as Tore and Dakota walked behind us. I wanted to touch her, but I found myself hesitant whenever I overthought it. I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn’t have the balls to look at her. Frowning, I ran a hand through my hair and adjusted my jacket, my eyes darting down to where she was wearing the jacket I had picked out for her.

  That made me feel a bit better. Moderately.

  Julian was explaining the buildings we passed, Arts and Humanities, followed by the Mythology and Histories department for wolf shifters, and all too soon, we were walking into the Business building. I pressed a hand to her back as I looked down at the schedule she was holding.

  “I’ll be outside after class,” Julian promised as he kissed her forehead and departed after gently sliding her backpack onto her shoulders. I fought the urge to steal it back from her because I knew the bruising on her body was bad enough that it couldn’t be comfortable. I also didn’t want to alert the others to her injury; she had entrusted me with the information, and it felt wrong exposing that. I knew Dakota was aware, as it was.

  Tore didn’t bother meeting my gaze, instead wrapping Effie up in a hug before retreating towards the nearby cafe. I knew he didn’t have class until later, but the fucker was paranoid about her safety. I’d be offended if I didn’t know that the concern was just natural to him. Finally, Dakota pressed his forehead to hers, and I could feel his wolf push out around him. I saw her nod as if they had mentally communicated, and I found myself annoyed by that. Jealous, actually. He disappeared, leaving me with Effie, who looked up at me with a soft, affectionate smile. Suddenly I was far more nervous than before, my heart rate spiking as I tried to not overthink this moment.

  “My first college class,” she murmured hesitantly.

  “It is,” I mumbled, feeling suddenly worried that maybe this wasn’t a good starter class. I walked with her towards the door of the classroom and kept my hand on her back as we entered through the large doorway. My gaze looked over the large windows and the snow that was still falling. Small amounts of sunlight broke through heavy gray clouds, making it glitter like Effie’s porcelain skin. It was beautiful.

  Immediately upon us entering, Ryder Bosu, the professor for this course, looked up from where he sat lounged at his large desk, ignoring the students walking in. I nearly rolled my eyes at that. I liked the man—in fact, I even considered the brilliant bastard a friend—but he was an asshole, and a somewhat arrogant one. Then again, I didn’t blame him, considering everything he’d done in his life, and so young. I still didn’t understand why he was here in the first place.

  Except right now, I wasn’t feeling very friendly towards him. A growl nearly broke from my throat as his gaze passed mine and focused on Effie, her cheeks flushing as she came to a complete stop. I paused, looking between the two of them, as she blinked, seemingly in shock. I wasn’t positive if it was because of Ryder or something else.

  Narrowing my gaze at the twenty-seven-year-old, I wondered what she was seeing in him. Why was I jealous? Better yet, why wasn’t I jealous? I had a million reasons to be. She hadn’t looked at me like that yet. She probably never would.

  Did she recognize him? Was that why she was frozen? I mean, he was considered one of the brightest economic minds in the country—it was how he had made his fortune and added to his family’s wealth. It was also why he had already retired and was now teaching at SFU despite being one of the few shifters here that wasn’t a type of wolf. By all technicalities, he didn’t belong here. Yet here he was, catching my mate’s attention. He sat up as Effie looked away, and I ushered her towards a seat in front. I squeezed her hand gently before walking towards his desk, intentionally blocking his view of Effie.

  His eyes flicked behind me, looking both confused and somewhat cautious, which was unusual for him. “Who is that?”

  The man seemed almost shaken, hating that this was clearly a reaction that had to do with shifter shit. I doubt anyone else noticed, but considering it was my mate in question, it pissed me the fuck off.

  “Our blood-bonded pack’s mate,” I explained firmly.

  Something flashed in his gaze before he smoothed out his expression and nodded. He didn’t offer anything else and instead pulled some papers from his bag as I grabbed a chair and dragged it near his desk.

  As a third-year economics major, I was able to aid as an assistant in the more basic-level classes for extra credit, so I was here to help with simple shit like tutoring and grading papers. Right now, I was loving the fact that it kept me around Effie despite it usually being about occupying my extra time.

  Finding Effie’s gaze, she offered me a small smile, still looking flushed, as I realized just how many men were staring at her right now. This was going to be hell.

  12

  Effie Harlow

  It seemed almost impossible. I was probably imagining it. Right?

  My eyes traced over the man standing at the front of the classroom, introducing himself, as my ears rang. Caedmon’s gaze was on mine, but my wolf and I were currently completely focused on who I presumed was my professor. An issue that I truly didn’t know how to handle.

  Similar to in the dream, the lean, muscular man was dressed in expensive tailored clothing. He had to have been easily 6’6”, because he was slightly taller than Caedmon, and that was saying something. His inky black hair hung to his shoulders in an even wave that matched the shade of his dark sweater, which was tight enough to show off how cut and built his torso was. He looked like some type of Olympic athlete.

  I squeezed my legs together, shifting in my seat as I tried to ignore the surge of heat that ran over me, entirely confused on what the hell was going on here. At least I knew it wasn’t just me, because as he talked, his eyes continued to move over me as if unable to help himself.

  I should have listened for his name. Instead, I found myself completely entrapped in watching how he reacted to things, his bright burnt-orange gaze tracking across the space. He was absolutely stunning, like a model that you only saw in magazines, his features speaking to Japanese heritage. The man’s entire aura was powerful and vibrant, as if he was holding a brilliant collection of energy under his skin that was on the verge of exploding out in a sunshine-like flame. I could feel other eyes on me, but I barely cared about that, if we were being honest. I know that sounded terrible, but I just had bigger things to focus on. As in, why a part of me that I’d never felt before seemed to be coming alive.

 

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