Viktoria POV
There's tension in the air even before I finish explaining the situation to my parents. My mother is already brooding, dropping her knitting pin and patterned work on her lap and sitting back to glare at my fathet, and my father is staring out at the distant, unusually quiet.
“So he wants you to do what?” my mother asks. “Teach his son privately? In that house?”
“The headmistress said the request came directly from him.”
My mother clicks her tongue, gets out of her rocking chair and starts pacing the small space between the couch and the table.
“No. Absolutely not. You’re not doing it. The Alpha is overstepping his bounds. And I know it—it’s that woman, Lucille. Everything she touches turns manipulative. That woman is a witch.”
“I agree. I don’t want to go to the Alpha
