Big Bad Academy

“Yeah, she’s a writer. I kidnapped her for information.”

Once more, my dad and Maxwell both freak out. They start yelling over one another and asking me if I’m insane, which is a fair question. Maybe I am insane. I’m not really sure anymore. Heather stands perfectly still behind me, but she’s no longer freaking out. Strange. I’m blocking her from their view, and it almost feels like I’m protecting her, but that would be crazy. She’s not my mate, anyway. She’s not even a shifter.

“Hey!” I finally shout. “Listen up. Whether you agree with my decision or not, it’s done. Over. I’m not taking her back until we know what we’re up against.”

“Flynn, she’s human. This could attract more.”

“Nobody even knows her real name,” I say. Well, except for her would-be stalker.

“What makes you think she knows anything?”

“We found a page from one of her books when Leah went missing.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, her books describe the academy’s inner-workings pretty precisely.”

“They do?” Heather gasps, and we all turn to look at her. “So that’s why this place seems so familiar! It’s almost exactly like The Werewolf and the Human Teacher. Only, the walls are a little different,” she said, glaring at the office walls. “And the flooring,” she frowns at the carpet. “In my book, everything was hardwood.” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe it. I felt strange, you know, when we came in. How’d you all do it? Did you actually design the school after one of my books?”

She seems almost thrilled.

She thinks we’re fans, and it looks like once more, I’m going to have to be the bad-guy asshole.

“The academy has been here for fifty years,” I tell her.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I tell her. “And you’re the first human to ever set foot in it.”

“I am?”

“Yes, my dear,” my father says. “And if what Flynn says is true, then I think we do have some talking to do. Flynn, why don’t you offer our guest a seat?”

Calling her a guest is definitely a jab at me. My dad has always viewed me as being a little too rough-and-tumble. That’s fine. He’s not wrong. I’ve always been sort of rough around the edges, but isn’t that part of my charm?

Hell, maybe it’s not, and I’ve just been kidding myself all of these years. Whatever. I’ll play the good boy and be polite, but the truth is that I feel anything but. I’m completely torn because I want answers. I want to find out where our packmates went. I want to find out who’s behind the abductions. Perhaps most importantly, I want to find out how Heather is involved.

“Of course,” I manage to say. My voice remains even and steely, and while Heather couldn’t possibly know I’m on the verge of losing my cool, both my dad and Maxwell get it. They’ve known me since I was a cub, after all.

I turn to Heather. She’s standing there perfectly still, but she doesn’t smell afraid or fearful of me. Strange. Why isn’t she more worried about her fate here tonight? If anything, she seems too calm, as though she thinks everything is going to be fine. If everything’s fine, it’s only because I’m going to do everything in my power to protect her.

I may have stolen her away, but I don’t have any interest in hurting her.

“Heather, please have a seat.” I gesture to one of the chairs in front of my father’s desk. She doesn’t hesitate. She just nods and moves past me and sits down. Perhaps I shouldn’t be quite so happy that she listened without arguing, but I am. It’s kind of nice that she didn’t question my suggestion. Instead, she just did exactly what I wanted, when I wanted it.

Perfect.

“So,” my father says to her. “You’re a writer.”

“Yes.”

“What exactly do you write?” Maxwell asks. The big wolf shifter takes up more of the room that he reasonably should. While he’s physically big, he’s even bigger mentally. Maxwell is the type of wolf who demands attention. He’s perfectly suited to be my father’s beta, and if they weren’t also lovers, then I’d worry Maxwell would challenge my father’s position as alpha.

“Paranormal romance, mostly,” she says. “Werewolves and vampires and sometimes I even write about the occasional ghost.” Heather smiles when she talks about her work. Her eyes light up a little and when she stops speaking, she lets out this tiny little sigh.

It’s perfect.

Everything about her seems to be.