Teacher's Pet Wolf

The way Ranger’s holding me now, though, he must not have minded. And hopefully he hasn’t noticed that I drooled on his shoulder a little.

Another buzz from my phone. Okay, okay. I surreptitiously swipe the drool from the corner of my mouth, then turn my face against his throat to draw in a deep breath through my nose—oh my god, so good. There’s another scent mingling with his, a familiar metallic odor that niggles at the back of my head, but that worry vanishes when Ranger’s arm suddenly tightens around me and a wordless denial rumbles through his broad chest.

“I’m coming right back,” I breathe against his lips. “Sleep some more. And I’ll order breakfast.”

Because I should probably eat something soon. I’m starving.

Without opening his eyes, Ranger makes a deep humming sound in his throat. His big hand smooths up my leg and his fingertips skim over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, telling me without words the breakfast he intends on having, then gives my ass a squeeze and lets me go.

With sheer happiness bubbling through me, I toss my dress on over my head. I dig my phone out of my tote and grab the room service menu before heading out to the balcony. There’s not much of a view—just the hotel’s parking lot—but the early morning air is cool and fresh, and out here I’m less likely to disturb Ranger while I’m putting in the breakfast order. I slide the balcony door closed. My sister’s message is exactly what I expected.

Sam: Shift’s almost over. Heading home soon. All good?

Alicia: All good.

She replies with a thumbs-up while I eagerly look through the menu—then I pause, frowning down at my forefinger. At the smear of blood there. But where did it…?

Heart stilling, I touch my mouth, then frantically wipe at my lips. There’s more blood. Not much. But it’s there. Muffling my sudden, terrified whimpers with the back of my hand, I haul open the balcony door.

And my heart dies.

There’s a crimson stain on Ranger’s pillow—and a distinctive mark on his neck that wasn’t there last night. A bite mark. The wound is faint, almost healed…but so were my wounds, the morning after I was mauled.

I bit him.

A choked sob rips through my chest, barely muffled behind my hand. On the bed, Ranger’s big body stiffens and his eyes open. As if he heard me. Because he probably did. Desperately I stumble to the bathroom, grab a towel from the rack and bury my face in the white cloth before screaming into it, screaming and screaming, collapsing to the floor with my back against the door, my heart dead and broken, broken.

What did I do? What did I do?

“Alicia?” His sooty voice sounds just on the other side of the door, gritty with sleep and thick with concern. “Baby, you okay?”

I should never have come. I should never have dared getting close. Because I’m a fucking monster.

Now I’ve made him one, too.

I never want to open this door. Never want to see his horror, his anger—if I can even convince him. He’s going to think I’m crazy and push me away. Until the next full moon, when it all comes true. Then he’ll hate me for what I’ve done to him.

Knowing I would have to let him go was already going to destroy me. But this? This?

All because I was selfish. Because I thought I could control the beast.

As soon as I knew Ranger was coming, I should have run far away. Or told him to run from me.

But I can’t run from this now. Tears fill my hot, hiccuping breaths. “I’ll…be out…in a minute.”

“Alicia.” His voice hardens. “Tell me what’s going on.”

I can’t yet. And I need help. But my hands are shaking too hard to text. I tap my sister’s name and press the phone to my ear.

“Let me guess,” she answers dryly. “You want me to pick up half a dozen Egg McMuffins and—”

“I bit him,” I sob into the phone. “I bit him.”

“Okay. Keep calm. I’m on my way.” She audibly exhales a breath. “Is he still alive?”

“Yes.” Though he might soon wish he wasn’t. I bury my face in the towel again. “I’m at the Columbia.”

“I know where you are, sis. I’ll be there in five. You hang in there.”

I nod though she can’t see me, my throat a raw burning knot. Because now I’ve got to get up and tell Ranger what I’ve done.

Except he already heard it.

“You haven’t hurt me, Alicia.” His voice is a low, soothing rumble—and right behind me, as if he’s crouching next to the door, at my level. “You haven’t done anything to me.”

More hot tears spill down my cheeks. Because this is the last time I’ll ever hear him speak to me this way. As if I’m precious and wonderful and not a horrifying beast.