The Professor's Second Chance Mate

Chapter 23

My brain seemed to stop functioning as I stared at the words on the screen.

Unknown: Hello, gorgeous. What are you doing?

Obviously, I should have just blocked it. The thought was fluttering in my mind just outside of reach, like a butterfly you can’t catch.

When the three-dot ellipsis appeared, indicating that the unknown person was typing again, I still didn’t move. I simply stared at my phone watching those little dots move, waiting to see what popped up on the screen.

Unknown: We need to talk.

Blocking and ignoring it would be the smart thing to do. But did I? No.

Oh, hell to the no, I typed back, my common sense completely failing me.

Judging by the lack of emoji’s and full words, I assumed these weren’t from a student. One of Kel’s friends, I wondered. Maybe they weren’t as accepting as I’d thought when we met earlier. Thinking back to that moment though, they all appeared genuinely happy for their friend. My years of living as an outsider in my pack sent paranoia to come back to haunt me once again.

Unknown: Hell can be arranged.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I sucked in a breath. Finally, I did what I should have done immediately and blocked the number. I briefly considered stress mind-linking or calling Kelton, that’s what this damn phone was for right? But if the pack issues were bad enough to send men here to find him, I didn’t want to interrupt them. I was sure there was a lot more to what was going on than what Kelton had said. From what I’d gathered so far, Kelton loved his son and desperately wanted him to succeed without his own reputation smothering the boy’s confidence. Having some baby girlfriend’s two cents surely wouldn’t help the situation. If the kid found out he’d probably feel even more micro-managed and betrayed as his pack members talked about him behind his back with an outsider.

Besides, I really did not want to be a needy, whiny, immature girlfriend, especially not in front of his guests. What would they think of me if I freaked out over every little thing?

Then, a new text came through from another new number, one I also didn’t recognize.

Unknown: We need to talk. I’m not going to hurt you.

“That’s what the online predators say right before they kidnap someone and sell them as s*x slaves in the black market,” I muttered aloud to myself.

With an unnerving buzz, another text arrived.

Unknown: I’d never do that.

My heart stilled for a moment before pounding so hard and fast I expected it to explode. He heard me? Frantically. I looked around my room. I was alone. That could only mean one thing.

Cameras or bugs.

My claws extended with my need to tear my room to literal shreds, when the phone dinged again, halting my actions once more. I hesitated before looking at it. Somehow I’d become like Pavlov’s dog, conditioned to look at the phone when the text alert sounded. Only I wasn’t salivating with pleasant anticipation.

Oh gods, this was starting to feel like one of those horror movies, where the audience yells at the i***t protagonist to just run. Running was a great option. Mind-linking Kelton is what I should have done. Text Ally maybe? Go knock on the room next door? So many options… But did I do any of those things? No, because, as previously established, I am an i***t.

Instead, I succumbed to curiosity and read the damn text.

Unknown: Your mother would never forgive me if I did.

My chest ached. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible for a heart to survive this level of stress.

He knows my mother? That simply didn’t compute. I doubt my mother had two f***s to rub together where I was concerned. She sure as hell wouldn’t care about some random creeper k********g me and selling me for nefarious purposes. Hell, she probably put this guy up to it. Was that it? Did she grow bored without me? No, I don’t think even she could be that cruel. I highly doubt my mother cared enough to put this much effort into scaring me. I’m sure she’s happily forgotten about my entire existence by now.

So, what else did I know about this mystery creeper? He texted in whole sentences. Who does that?

Kelton does.

But there’s no way this was my Kelton.

So, naturally, my curiosity and need for information once again got the best of me. I texted back.

Me: Yeah, right. Now I know you’re full of it. Text me again and I’m calling the police.

Twiddling the ring on my finger, I took a deep breath. Suddenly, my father and his strange warning resurfaced. Perhaps it was time I asked my father what he meant when he said not to take this thing off until I met my mate. My mind flashed to that one time I did take it off.

I’d just turned fourteen. As a friendless nerd, I usually did my homework in the library after school. Or I went home and sat in my garden, enjoying the peace and quiet until I heard my brother or his friends nearby, then I’d hide in my room, pretending not to exist.

For a change of pace that day, I decided to head to a café instead. Though I seldom took the opportunity, I loved observing people in public. It had always been a habit of mine to pay attention to what was going on around me, largely out of necessity. Eavesdropping and people watching might not be the best hobbies, but on the rare occasions that I was able to observe and listen to others, it made me feel connected, social even. I liked hearing what made people happy and what’s most important to them. I enjoyed watching the juxtaposition between people like me, who were hanging out, and the harried people that dashed in, impatiently ordered and dashed off again.

Or perhaps I was a sucker for punishment. Watching others interact with real friends always made me pine for what could have been. If my mother hadn’t turned my brother against me, would I be a normal teenager with normal friends? Would I be here right now with those friends laughing at nonsense?

Sitting in a comfy chair tucked in the corner of the coffee/smoothie shop, I deeply enjoyed the atmosphere. I also loved the smell of coffee, baked goods, and fruit. A strange combination but it worked. More so, I almost felt included, accepted. Here, the staff treated me with the same respect as any other patron.

After a couple of hours, while immersed in my required reading for AP English Literature, I heard their laughter. I looked up in time to see my brother’s eyes swing towards me and his nostrils flare as if he found my scent particularly disgusting. Which didn’t seem fair, since he and his cronies had clearly just come from football practice; sweaty, dirty, and gross. Instantly his eyes narrowed in anger. I racked my brain trying to think if I could have possibly done anything extra to annoy him, or if it was purely my mere presence here he hated.

Other than at school where he ruled, he usually kept his bullying to a minimum, reserving the worst of his behavior toward me to share with his closest friends but away from the bulk of our pack members. The once lively cafe was suddenly muffled by uncomfortable silence. Glancing around, I saw people start to notice that the future alpha had arrived. A group of girls nearby did that annoying spoony sigh thing before giggling. If he wasn’t the alpha heir, I wondered if they would still act like fools around him. They knew what he was really like. Adults jovially greeted him as they entered and exited. It felt like a long time, but was probably only a minute or two. All the while, he just stood there death-glaring at me.

Unlike me, everyone noticed him wherever he went. Unfortunately, they also seemed to notice that while he was laughing and happy when he walked in, now he wasn’t. It was also clear that his ire was directed at me. Eyes swiveled from me to him, and back again, most in confusion. At that time, not everyone had picked up on the change in how the Luna, my mother, and the alpha heir, my once loving brother, treated me. The youth of the pack had, but the adults were a little slower to catch on. Or maybe they were wary of my father. No adults were outwardly obnoxious to me. My peers though, were another story.

Please leave me alone. I silently prayed while twiddling my ring. That had become a nervous habit of mine almost as soon as I received it. I unconsciously twisted and fiddled with it while trying to work through my anxiousness and confusion with my supposed family.

When Kiren stormed toward me, I panicked, accidentally pulling the ring off as I jumped to my feet, sending the chair scraping noisily backwards in my haste.

The next second, the green coffee beans in the ‘where does coffee come from’ display sprouted. The plethora of fruit stacked neatly behind the counter ready to be made into fresh smoothies or juice, also sprouted. Kiwi vines started to twist their way around the glass case, saplings sprouted from apples and pears, people screamed. It was a chaotic mess. To make matters worse, a second later, all the light seemed to be sucked out of the café, despite it being a bright late summer early evening outside.

Nothing made sense. When the light returned, my flight response kicked in in full measure. Snatching up my bag, I dodged several confused people, and bolted from the café. I didn’t look backwards, but as I ran I remember hearing exclamations of awe and confusion at the strange event. Made stranger by the fact that I, and everyone else, seemed to immediately forget about it.

How had I forgotten that?

Now that I think back, no one ever spoke of that again. No one in the entire pack. Somehow we all forgot. For a moment I mentally grappled with the memory, wondering if maybe it didn’t happen, and I’d just imagined it. Now that I really took the time to examine it, I knew it really was a real memory. And in it, I realized, the light faded when I removed my ring and the darkness faded when I put my ring back on. Does that mean I controlled it? If I control darkness, what does that imply about those shadow creatures? The only explanation that makes sense is magic. I’m a witch. Did I make everyone forget or did my father arrange that to hide my powers from the pack?

Powers.

Shit! Do I really have powers?!

My mind flickered through various memories, my flair with plants, those nights in the cabin, running through the campus, the shadow creatures, the trees that reached for me in the night. What if it was all my fault? What if I’d done something awful to my mother and that’s why she stopped loving me?

The sound of the text alert refocused my mind.

Unknown: The police can’t help you. I can.