Chapter 10

Lucas

The polished wooden door of the Dean's office looms before me, its brass nameplate gleaming in the fluorescent light. I take a deep breath, centering myself. The scent of old books and leather mingles with the faint aroma of coffee, a familiar combination that usually puts me at ease. Not today.

Today, everything changes.

As I raise my hand to knock, an image of Sarah flashes through my mind. Her smile, bright and genuine. The way her eyes light up when she talks about her research. The feel of her in my arms, safe and warm. My mate. My everything.

A surge of determination courses through me. I'm here for her, to ensure she never has to worry about our relationship again. To protect her, not just physically, but emotionally and professionally as well. With that thought firmly in mind, I rap my knuckles against the door.

"Come in," Dean Hart's voice calls from within.

I enter, my stride purposeful. Dean Hart looks up from her desk, her eyebrows rising slightly at my serious expression.

"Dr. Morgan," she says, gesturing to the chair across from her. "What can I do for you?"

I sit, meeting her gaze steadily. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Dean Hart. I have an important matter to discuss with you."

She leans back, her expression curious. "I'm listening."

I take a deep breath. Here goes everything. "I've come to disclose a personal relationship with one of my students, Sarah Mitchell."

Dean Hart's eyes widen, her professional mask slipping for a moment to reveal genuine surprise. "I see," she says, her tone carefully neutral. "And how long has this been going on?"

"It's a recent development," I assure her quickly. "And I want to be clear that it hasn't affected my professional judgment in any way. Sarah's work has always been evaluated fairly, based solely on its merits."

The Dean's eyes narrow slightly. "Dr. Morgan, you understand the serious ethical implications of a relationship between a professor and a student, don't you?"

"I do," I nod, leaning forward slightly. "Which is why I'm here. I want to address this proactively and transparently."

I pause, wishing I could make her understand the depth of my connection to Sarah, the power of our mate bond. But how do you explain something so primal, so integral to my very being, in terms a human can understand?

"Dean Hart," I continue, my voice low and intense, "I need you to understand that Sarah isn't just another student to me. In shifter culture, we have what's called a mate bond. It's a deep, instinctive connection. Sarah is my mate."

Even now, as I sit here explaining, I feel the pull to be near her. It's like a magnetic force, drawing me to her side, compelling me to protect her at all costs. The bond isn't just emotional; it's something deeper, something primal. Every fiber of my being aches to be with her, to ensure she's safe and happy. It's not something I can simply set aside or ignore. And as much as I respect the Dean's authority and the ethical boundaries of my profession, my instinct to protect Sarah overrides everything else.

Dean Hart studies me, her eyes searching for any signs of deception or exaggeration. "Dr. Morgan, while I appreciate your honesty and your cultural perspective, I must reiterate that the university has strict policies regarding relationships between faculty and students."

"I understand," I reply, my voice steady but my heart pounding. "That's why I'm here, to find a way to honor both my responsibilities to the university and my commitment to Sarah. I believe we can find a solution that respects both."

Leaning forward, I outline my plan. "I suggest we involve the ethics committee for a formal review and approval of the situation. In the meantime, I'm prepared to recuse myself from any direct evaluation of Sarah's work. Another professor can grade her assignments and exams to ensure there's no question of favoritism."

Dean Hart listens, her expression thoughtful. "That's... a more comprehensive approach than I expected, Dr. Morgan. I appreciate your proactivity in this matter."

I nod. I can't let this situation add to Sarah's stress. She's been through so much already. The last thing she needs is to worry about the complications our relationship might bring. The thought of her feeling burdened, even for a moment, makes my chest tighten.

Sarah deserves peace, stability, and the freedom to pursue her dreams without any added strain. I promised myself I'd protect her, and that means shielding her from anything that could jeopardize her happiness or success. This isn't just about following university policies; it's about ensuring Sarah never has to face the kind of struggles she's already endured.

"Sarah's academic success and reputation are as important to me as my own," I say firmly. "I won't allow our relationship to jeopardize her future in any way."

The Dean nods slowly. "Very well. I'll consult with the ethics committee about your proposal. But Dr. Morgan, I must caution you—"

Her words are cut off by the vibration of my phone. I glance down, seeing Sarah's name on the screen. My heart races, torn between the need to answer and the knowledge that I can't, not now.

"I apologize," I say, silencing the call. "Please, continue."

Dean Hart's eyes narrow slightly. "Was that Ms. Mitchell?"

I nod, not seeing any point in lying. "Yes, but as you can see, I'm prioritizing this meeting."

She sighs. "Dr. Morgan, I hope you understand the precarious position you're in. Until the ethics committee reaches a decision, you need to maintain absolute professionalism with Ms. Mitchell."

"I understand," I say, even as my instincts rail against the idea of distancing myself from my mate. "But there's another matter we need to discuss, one that directly impacts Sarah's safety and potentially the safety of other students as well."

Dean Hart leans back, her expression wary. "Go on."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for this next part. "There's a new professor on campus, Dr. Mark Anderson. He's Sarah's ex-boyfriend, and I have reason to believe he poses a threat to her wellbeing."

The Dean's eyes widen. "That's a serious accusation, Dr. Morgan."

"I know," I say gravely. "And I wouldn't make it lightly. But given Sarah's safety is at stake, I felt it was crucial to bring this to your attention immediately."

As I speak, all I can think about is Sarah's face, the weariness that sometimes clouds her bright eyes. She's had enough battles to fight, enough shadows to chase away. I won't let this be another one. Whatever it takes, I'll make sure she can focus on her work, her happiness, and her future without the shadow of fear looming over her.

"I see," the Dean says, her tone measured. "We take the safety of our students very seriously. I'll speak with HR about conducting a discreet background check on Dr. Anderson. But without a formal complaint or current evidence of misconduct, our options are limited."

I understand the constraints she's under but feel no less urgent about the need to protect Sarah. "I appreciate that, Dean Hart."

Dean Hart regards me for a long moment. "Dr. Morgan, I want to be clear. While I understand your concerns for Ms. Mitchell, you need to tread very carefully here. Your relationship with her already complicates matters."

I nod, even as every fiber of my being rebels against the idea of standing back. "I understand."

"Good," she says, her tone softening slightly. "I'll be in touch once I've spoken with the ethics committee. In the meantime, maintain your distance from Ms. Mitchell."

As I stand to leave, my phone buzzes again. Sarah. My heart leaps into my throat, a mix of longing and worry flooding through me. Two calls in such a short time is unusual for her.

"Thank you for your time, Dean Hart," I manage, my voice tight.

As soon as I'm out of her office, I pull out my phone, my fingers shaking slightly as I dial Sarah's number. It goes straight to voicemail. A cold dread settles in my stomach, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin.

Something's wrong. I can feel it in my bones, in the very core of my being. The mate bond thrums with an urgent, anxious energy.

I try to rationalize it. Maybe her phone died. Maybe she's in class. But the gnawing worry won't subside. Sarah's face flashes in my mind - her smile, her bright eyes, the way she looks at me with trust and affection. The thought of her in distress, possibly in danger, makes my blood run cold.

Ethics committee, university policies, professional boundaries – none of it matters now. My mate needs me, and every instinct I have is screaming at me to go to her.

Without a second thought, I head for the exit, my pace quickening with each step. My wolf is close to the surface now, urging me to run, to shift, to do whatever it takes to get to Sarah.

As I burst out of the building, the cool air hits my face, but I barely notice. My only thought is of Sarah. Hold on, I think, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. I'm coming.

I sprint towards my car, keys already in hand. The mate bond pulls me like a compass pointing north, guiding me towards Sarah. Whatever's happening, whatever danger she might be in, I'll face it. I'll protect her, no matter the cost.

As I peel out of the parking lot, I make a silent promise. I'm coming, Sarah. Just hold on. I'm coming.

???

The tires of my car screech as I pull up to Sarah's house, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. Before I've even cut the engine, I'm hit by a scent that makes my blood run cold.

Mark. He's here.

I'm out of the car in an instant, my wolf clawing at the surface, desperate to break free. But I can't shift. Not yet. I need to assess the situation first.

As I approach the house, my senses go into overdrive. I can hear muffled voices inside – Sarah's, tinged with fear, and Mark's, low and menacing. The scent of Sarah's distress hangs heavy in the air, mixing with Mark's anger and something else... anticipation? The combination makes my stomach churn.

I don't bother knocking. With one powerful kick, I send the door flying open.

The scene before me makes my vision go red. Mark has Sarah cornered against the far wall, his hand gripping her arm so tightly I can see the skin whitening under his fingers. Sarah's eyes meet mine, wide with fear and relief.

"Lucas," she gasps.

Mark whirls around, his eyes flashing with fury. "Well, well. If it isn't the knight in shining armor."

I step into the room, every muscle in my body coiled tight, ready to spring. "Let. Her. Go." Each word comes out as a growl, my control slipping with every passing second.

Mark's lips curl into a sneer. "Or what, professor? You'll give me detention?"

"Mark, please," Sarah pleads, trying to pull away from him. "Just leave. You don't have to do this."

But Mark's attention is fully on me now. He shoves Sarah aside, and it takes every ounce of my willpower not to lunge at him right then and there. But Sarah's safety comes first. I need to get her out of harm's way.

"Sarah," I say, my eyes never leaving Mark, "come to me. Now."

She starts to move towards me, but Mark is faster. He grabs her again, pulling her roughly against him. "She's not going anywhere," he snarls. "Sarah belongs to me. Always has, always will."

The possessiveness in his voice, the way he's manhandling my mate – it's too much. A roar builds in my chest, my canines lengthening, claws threatening to burst from my fingertips.

"Sarah is not your property," I growl, my voice deepening with the effort of holding back my shift. "She's her own person, and she's made her choice. Let her go, Mark. This is your last warning."

Mark's laugh is cold and humorless. "Or what? You'll huff and puff and blow my house down?" His grip on Sarah tightens, making her wince. "Face it, Morgan. You're out of your league here."

The sight of Sarah in pain snaps something inside me. My vision sharpens, the world suddenly awash in vivid detail. I can hear Sarah's rapid heartbeat, smell the fear rolling off her in waves. And underneath it all, the maddening scent of Mark's hands on my mate.

"Sarah," I say, my voice rough with the effort of control, "close your eyes."

She looks at me, confusion and fear warring in her gaze. But she trusts me. Even now, she trusts me. Her eyes flutter shut.

That's all I need.

I barely have time to kick off my shoes before the shift rips through me with explosive force. My clothes tear and fall away as bones crack and reform, muscles stretch and contort. In seconds, where a man once stood, a massive silver-streaked wolf now crouches, hackles raised, teeth bared, surrounded by shreds of what was once my outfit.

Mark's eyes widen in shock, his grip on Sarah loosening for a split second. It's all the opening I need.

I lunge forward, a blur of fur and fang. My jaws close around Mark's forearm, yanking him away from Sarah. The taste of his blood fills my mouth, copper and adrenaline.

Mark howls in pain and rage, his own shift overtaking him. But he's slower, less practiced. I use that to my advantage. His clothes rip and fall away as his body contorts, leaving him as naked as I am beneath his dark fur.

As Sarah scrambles away, I position myself between her and Mark. His wolf form is smaller than mine, darker, with eyes that glow with malice.

We circle each other, growls rumbling in our chests. The room feels too small, the air thick with the scent of blood and fury.

Mark makes the first move, lunging for my throat. I sidestep, raking my claws down his flank. He yelps but doesn't back down, snapping at my legs.

We're a whirlwind of teeth and claws, crashing into furniture, leaving destruction in our wake. Part of me is aware of Sarah, pressed against the far wall, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe. But I can't focus on her now. One moment of distraction could be fatal.

Mark fights dirty, going for low blows and cheap shots. But I have something he doesn't – something worth fighting for. With every attack, every defense, I think of Sarah. My mate. The one I'm meant to protect.

A particularly vicious bite to my shoulder makes me snarl in pain. But even as blood matts my fur, I feel a surge of renewed strength. I will not let him win. I will not let him hurt Sarah ever again.

With a roar that shakes the very walls, I throw myself at Mark, my jaws aiming for his throat.

My teeth sink into Mark's throat, not deep enough to kill, but enough to assert dominance. He thrashes wildly, claws raking across my muzzle, but I hold firm. I can feel his pulse racing beneath my jaws, smell the fear that's finally overtaken his rage.

For a moment, time stands still. My wolf howls in triumph, urging me to end it, to eliminate the threat to our mate once and for all. But the human part of me, the part that remembers Sarah's gentle nature, her aversion to violence, holds back.

With a growl that reverberates through both our bodies, I fling Mark across the room. He hits the wall with a sickening thud, slumping to the floor in a heap of dark fur.

I stand over him, hackles raised, teeth bared. The message is clear: Stay down.

For a tense moment, I wait, ready to resume the fight if necessary. But Mark doesn't move. His form shimmers, the shift taking him back to his human shape. He lies there, battered and bloody, his eyes wide with defeat and fear.

Only then do I allow myself to turn to Sarah.

She's still pressed against the wall, her face pale, eyes wide. The scent of her fear hits me anew, and I realize with a pang that some of that fear might be directed at me. In my wolf form, I must look as terrifying to her as Mark did.

Slowly, carefully, I begin my own shift back. Bones crack and realign, fur recedes, until I'm kneeling on the floor, naked and panting. The pain of my wounds, dulled by adrenaline in wolf form, now hits me full force. But none of that matters. Only Sarah matters.

"Sarah," I rasp, my voice hoarse. "Are you okay?"

For a heartbeat, she doesn't move, doesn't speak. Then, with a choked sob, she rushes forward, falling to her knees beside me. Her hands hover over my injuries, not quite touching, as if afraid to cause more pain.

"Lucas," she whispers, tears streaming down her face. "Oh God, Lucas. You're hurt."

I catch her hands in mine, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm fine," I assure her, even as I wince from the movement. "Are you hurt? Did he—"

She shakes her head, cutting me off. "I'm okay. You... you saved me."

The relief in her voice is palpable, but I can still smell the lingering fear on her. Gently, I cup her face in my hands, meeting her gaze. "Sarah, I'm so sorry you had to see that. I never wanted—"

"Shh," she interrupts, pressing her forehead to mine. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You protected me. You kept me safe."

I nod, relief washing over me at her words. But our moment of peace is short-lived as a groan from across the room reminds us we're not alone.

Mark stirs, struggling to sit up. His eyes, still glowing with remnants of his wolf, dart between Sarah and me, a mixture of fear and hatred in his gaze.

I stand, positioning myself slightly in front of Sarah, my body tense and ready for any sudden moves. "Get the hell out of here, Mark," I growl, reaching down to grab his torn pants from the floor. I throw them at him, the fabric hitting his chest with a dull thud. "And don't ever come near Sarah again."

Mark fumbles with the pants, his movements sluggish from the beating he took. But before he can respond, Sarah steps out from behind me.

"Wait," she says, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in her hands. She moves forward, stopping just out of Mark's reach. I want to pull her back, to shield her, but I force myself to stay still. This is her moment.

Sarah looks down at Mark, her eyes hard. "I have something to say to you, Mark."

She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "You don't own me. You never did, and you never will. I'm not yours to control or to hurt. I'm my own person, and I choose Lucas. I choose happiness. I choose freedom from your abuse and manipulation."

Her voice grows stronger with each word. "You have no power over me anymore. If you ever come near me or Lucas again, if you ever try to threaten or intimidate me, I will not hesitate to report you. To the university, to the police, to anyone who will listen. Do you understand?"

Mark stares at her, shock evident on his face. For a moment, he looks like he might argue, but then his eyes flick to me, standing ready to intervene if necessary, and the fight seems to drain out of him.

"Yeah," he mutters, struggling to his feet. "I understand."

Sarah nods, then steps back, returning to my side. I wrap an arm around her, feeling the slight tremor in her body but also the strength in her stance.

"Now get out," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "And don't forget what Sarah said. This is your only warning."

Mark shuffles towards the door, casting one last venomous glance over his shoulder before disappearing into the night.

As the door closes behind him, Sarah lets out a shaky breath, leaning into me. I hold her close.

"I'm so proud of you," I murmur into her hair. "You were incredible."

She looks up at me, a small smile on her lips despite the tears in her eyes. "We were incredible," she corrects. "Together."