Chapter 2

Lucas

I sit in the university meeting room. The scent of leather and old books fills the air, a familiar comfort that usually grounds me. But today, it's not enough. My fingers drum an impatient rhythm on the polished mahogany table as I struggle to focus on the agenda before me.

Sarah Mitchell.

The memory of her walking into my lecture hall yesterday still sends a shiver down my spine.

When she'd been near my desk after class, her scent had overwhelmed me. The closer she got, the more potent it became, clouding my judgment and awakening my most primal instincts. It was all I could do to maintain my composure, to not leap over my desk and claim her right there.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the image. It's wrong, so wrong. She's my student, for crying out loud. And I'm her professor, a position of authority I can't abuse. But my wolf... my wolf doesn't care about human conventions. It howls for her.

"Dr. Morgan?" Dr. Evelyn Hart's sharp voice cuts through my reverie. "Are you with us?"

I blink, forcing myself back to the present. "Yes, of course. My apologies, Dr. Hart. You were saying?"

The dean's lips purse in disapproval, but she continues. "As I was explaining, we have a new addition to our faculty. I'd like you all to welcome Dr. Mark Anderson."

The moment the name leaves her lips, my entire body tenses. A new scent hits me, one I hadn't noticed in my distraction. It's musky, with an underlying current of aggression that sets my teeth on edge. My eyes snap to the man entering the room, and I have to fight to keep my lips from curling into a snarl.

Tall, dark-haired, with eyes that gleam. He's handsome in a dangerous way, the kind of looks that would make most humans swoon. But I'm not human, and neither is he. The air between us crackles with an energy that has nothing to do with academic rivalry and everything to do with our true natures.

"It's a pleasure to be here," Mark says, his voice smooth as silk but laced with a challenge only I can detect. "I'm looking forward to contributing to this esteemed institution."

I force myself to nod, to play along with this charade of civility. "Welcome to the department, Dr. Anderson," I manage, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

As Mark takes his seat, our eyes lock. In that moment, the pretense falls away, and I see the wolf beneath the man.

He must be new to the area. And joined the Howling Pines pack—our rivals—because I certainly haven't seen him at any recent pack meetings. This sudden appearance in both the university and potentially in rival pack territory is concerning, to say the least.

The staring contest between us stretches, seconds feeling like hours. I feel my canines lengthening, the urge to shift and assert my dominance almost overwhelming.

But we're not in the forest. We're in a university meeting room.

"Well," Dr. Hart's voice breaks through the tension, oblivious to the silent battle being waged, "I trust you two will work well together. Dr. Morgan, perhaps you could show Dr. Anderson around the department later?"

I break eye contact with Mark, turning to Dr. Hart with a smile that feels more like a grimace. "Of course, Dr. Hart. It would be my pleasure."

The lie sits heavy on my tongue, but I force it out.

As Dr. Hart drones on about budget allocations and upcoming events, I find myself planning. I need to warn Ryan, our pack alpha. Mark's presence here is no coincidence. The Howling Pines pack has been pushing at our borders for months, and now they've infiltrated my professional life as well.

The meeting finally draws to a close, and as people begin to gather their things, I feel Mark's eyes on me once more. I meet his gaze, letting a low growl rumble in my chest, too quiet for human ears but crystal clear to a fellow shifter.

"Dr. Morgan," he says, approaching me with that same dangerous smile, "I look forward to that tour. I'm sure you have a lot to... show me."

The double meaning in his words is unmistakable. This isn't just about the university; it's about territory, both academic and pack-related.

"Indeed," I reply, my voice low and laced with warning. "I'll be sure to give you a thorough understanding of how things work around here."

We stand there, two predators sizing each other up, the air thick with unspoken challenges.

"This is going to be an interesting semester, Lucas. I hope you're ready for some... competition."

I let just a hint of my wolf show in my eyes. "Tread carefully, Mark. You're not with Howling Pines at the moment."

He chuckles, the sound grating on my nerves. "Oh, I'm counting on it. See you later... professor."

As he walks away, I'm left standing in the hallway, my hands clenched at my sides. The wolf in me is howling for action, demanding that I chase him down and assert my dominance.

But I can't. Not here, not now.

I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. This is my territory - both my pack lands and my professional domain. I've worked too hard, maintained this delicate balance for too long, to let Mark Anderson waltz in and upset everything.

???

I lean against a tree, nursing a glass of whiskey as I survey the outdoor venue. Fairy lights twinkle in the branches overhead, casting a soft glow over the celebrating guests. The night air is filled with laughter and the scent of pine, all here to celebrate Ryan and Jenna's mating. It's a joyous occasion, but I can't shake the undercurrent of unease that's been plaguing me since that day in my classroom.

Derek sidles up next to me, his usual gruff demeanor softened slightly by the festive atmosphere. "Quite the shindig, huh?" he grunts, taking a swig from his beer bottle.

I nod, grateful for the distraction. "Ryan and Jenna seem happy."

Derek grunts in agreement, then his expression sours. "Unlike some people we know. Remember my last BBQ? The one Liam nearly ruined with his charming personality?"

I can't help but grimace at the memory. "How could I forget? The kid nearly started a fight with his own brother."

Derek shakes his head, his expression darkening. "I swear, that boy's more trouble than he's worth. All that bitterness and resentment... it's like he's looking for reasons to be angry."

"He's had a rough time," I say, trying to be fair despite my own frustrations with Liam. "But you're right, his attitude is becoming a real problem."

"Marcus better get a handle on him soon," Derek mutters. "Before he does something we'll all regret."

We fall into a tense silence, watching the couples dance on the makeshift dance floor. Ryan and Jenna are at the center, lost in each other's eyes. It's a beautiful sight, but it stirs something uncomfortable in my chest.

Derek leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Who would've thought, huh? Our mighty alpha, tamed by a human mate."

It's the kind of sarcastic comment I'd usually respond to with a wry smile and a quip about the joys of bachelorhood. But the words stick in my throat. Because for the first time in decades, I can't honestly say I'm content being alone.

The image of Sarah flashes unbidden in my mind. Her scent, her smile, the way her eyes light up when she talks about her research. It's been less than a week since she walked into my classroom, and already she's turned my world upside down.

"Lucas?" Derek's voice cuts through my thoughts. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I force a smile, but it feels brittle. "I'm fine. Just...thinking."

Derek narrows his eyes, studying me for a moment. I can see the suspicion in his gaze, the unasked questions. But then he shrugs, a silent acknowledgment of our unspoken male code. Some things are better left unsaid, at least for now.

"Well, while you're thinking," he says, straightening up, "I'm going to congratulate the happy couple. Try not to brood too much while I'm gone."

I watch as Derek makes his way through the crowd, shaking my head at his parting jab. But as I turn back to the party, something catches my attention.

A scent. Familiar, intoxicating, and utterly unmistakable.

Sarah.

My body tenses, every nerve suddenly on high alert. I scan the crowd, my eyes searching desperately until—there. She's standing near the edge of the clearing, looking as beautiful as ever in a simple blue dress that brings out the color of her eyes.

The moment I see her, it's like everything else fades away. The noise of the party becomes a distant hum, the other guests mere shadows. All I can focus on is Sarah.

My wolf stirs within me, more insistent than ever. Mine, it growls. Ours.

I know I should resist. She's my student. I'm her professor. It's inappropriate, unethical, potentially career-ending.

But my feet are moving before I can stop them, drawn to her like a magnet to true north.

As I get closer, I notice something that makes my protective instincts flare. Sarah looks uncomfortable, her posture tense as she scans the crowd with wary eyes. She's clutching her drink like a lifeline, her knuckles white around the glass.

The urge to comfort her, to ease her discomfort, is overwhelming. I want to wrap her in my arms, to shield her from whatever's causing her distress. But I can't. Not here.

Instead, I approach slowly, making sure she sees me coming. I don't want to startle her.

"Ms. Mitchell," I say, keeping my voice soft and neutral. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Sarah jumps slightly at the sound of my voice, her eyes widening as she turns to face me. "Dr. Morgan," she breathes, and the sound of my name on her lips sends a shiver down my spine. "I... Jenna invited me. We work together at the elementary school."

I nod, trying to ignore how my heart races at her proximity. "Of course. Are you enjoying the party?"

She gives a small, forced smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "It's lovely. Everyone's been very welcoming."

But I can see the lie in the tension of her shoulders, smell the anxiety rolling off her in waves. I lean in slightly, lowering my voice. "You seem a bit overwhelmed. Would you like to take a walk? Get some air?"

Sarah looks up at me, relief flooding her features. "Actually, that sounds wonderful. If you don't mind?"

"Not at all. There's a nice path just beyond those trees. Shall we?"

As we step onto the moonlit path, away from the noise and lights of the party, I can sense Sarah's relief. Her shoulders relax, and her grip on her glass loosens slightly.

"Thank you, Dr. Morgan," she says softly. "I was feeling a bit overwhelmed back there. I don't know many people here except for Jenna."

I nod, understanding her discomfort. "Large gatherings can be intimidating, especially when you're surrounded by unfamiliar faces."

Sarah glances at me, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "If you don't mind me asking, how do you know Jenna and Ryan? I didn't expect to see my professor at a party like this."

For a moment, I hesitate. This is it - the moment of truth. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for her reaction.

"I'm actually part of Ryan's pack," I say, watching her carefully. "I'm a wolf-shifter, like him."

Sarah's eyes widen, and she takes an involuntary step back. The scent of her fear spikes, sharp and acrid in the night air. My wolf whines, desperate to comfort her, to show her we mean no harm.

"You're... you're a shifter?" she whispers, her voice trembling slightly.

I nod, keeping my posture open and non-threatening. "Yes, I am. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I should have mentioned it earlier."

Sarah's gaze darts around, as if looking for an escape route. The sight of her fear tears at me, my protective instincts surging to the forefront.

"Sarah," I say gently, using her first name without thinking, "I promise you're safe. I would never hurt you."

She looks at me then, really looks at me, and I can see the conflict in her eyes. Fear wars with trust, her past experiences battling against what she knows of me as her professor.

"I... I'm sorry," she says finally, her voice small. "I didn't mean to react like that. It's just... I've had some bad experiences with shifters in the past."

My wolf growls at the implication, angry at whoever hurt her. But I push that anger down, focusing on the present moment.

"You have nothing to apologize for," I assure her. "Your feelings are valid, and I respect them. If you'd like, we can head back to the party, or I can find Jenna for you."

Sarah shakes her head, surprising me. "No, it's okay. I... I trust you, Dr. Morgan. You've always been kind to me in class. I just wasn't expecting this."

Relief washes over me at her words. She trusts me. It's a small thing, but it feels monumental.

"Thank you," I say softly. "That means a lot to me."

We continue walking in silence for a few moments, the sounds of the forest surrounding us. I can hear Sarah's heartbeat gradually slowing, her scent losing its sharp edge of fear.

"Can I ask you something?" she says suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Of course."

"How long have you been a shifter? Were you born this way?"

I smile, grateful for her curiosity. It's a good sign - she's trying to understand rather than simply fear.

"I was born this way," I explain. "It's genetic for us. I've been shifting since I was a teenager."

Sarah nods, processing this information. "And the others at the party? Are they all shifters too?"

"Many of them are, yes. But not all. Jenna, for instance, is human. In our pack, we welcome both shifters and humans."

I watch as Sarah absorbs this, her brow furrowing slightly in thought. My wolf is restless, urging me to move closer, to touch her, to claim her as ours. But I hold back, knowing she needs time and space to process.

"Thank you for telling me," Sarah says finally, offering me a small smile. "And for being so patient with my reaction."

The sight of her smile, small as it is, makes my heart soar. "Thank you for listening," I reply. "And for giving me a chance to explain."

As we make our way back to the celebration, Sarah seems more at ease. Our conversation flows naturally, touching on lighter topics – her studies, my research, our shared passion for education.

"I never thought I'd say this to a shifter," Sarah admits with a small laugh, "but I'm glad you were here tonight, Dr. Morgan. Thank you for... well, everything."

I nod, satisfied that I've been able to see to her comfort. "I'm glad I could help, Ms. Mitchell. And please, when we're not in class, you can call me Lucas."

She smiles, a genuine one this time that reaches her eyes. "Then I insist you call me Sarah."

As we rejoin the party, I notice Ryan and Jenna making their way to a beautifully decorated table. The cake-cutting ceremony is about to begin.

Sarah glances at her watch. "Oh, I should go congratulate them before I leave. I have an early start tomorrow." She turns to me, her blue eyes soft in the fairy lights. "Thank you again, Lucas. I'll see you in class?"

She gives me one last smile before making her way through the crowd towards the happy couple. I watch her go, my eyes tracking her movement. My wolf paces restlessly within me, agitated by the increasing distance between us and Sarah. It doesn't like watching her walk away, not one bit. The urge to chase after her, to keep her close, is almost overwhelming.

And that's when I know with absolute certainty.

Sarah Mitchell is my mate.