31. The Pull of the Wind

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• Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    39. The Weight of Morning

  AlWarm.That was the first thing I noticed as consciousness stirred.I was warm and tucked against someone’s chest. Strong arms were draped around me. A steady heartbeat echoed beneath my ear, grounding and familiar. The bedsheets were tangled around my legs, and the air carried the earthy, musky scent of him, comforting, steady and safe.Emon, my heart whispered, in that blissful space before thought could catch up to truth. He always slept with one arm under my neck and the other tight around my waist, breathing into my hair. I smiled into the warmth and let out a soft sigh.Then something shifted.The breath in my hair was deeper. Rougher. The heartbeat slower… stronger. Too strong.My eyes snapped open.I blinked at the unfamiliar curve of a bare chest in front of me, the shape of a jaw peppered with scruff, and…Dark eyes. Watching me.Edward.My stomach dropped.The blood drained from my face.“Good morning,” he said softly, smiling like the night hadn’t destroyed everything I

• Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    38. Bound in Fire

  AlbertAs I lay on Albert's arms all spent and content, I began to reminisce about what we had just done.Edward’s lips were on mine the moment the door closed.Hot, desperate and unapologetic.My back hit the wall, and he kissed me like a man possessed. Like the years of restraint had finally shattered into ash. His hands had gripped my hips, then my waist, pulling me flush against the solid heat of him.I had moaned into his mouth, clutching at the damp fabric of his shirt. He tasted like rain and something wild, something mine.His kisses had moved to my neck, “I waited,” he had growled between each breath. “Gods, Albert. I waited so long.”I didn’t have words. Just the thundering of my pulse and the searing burn of our bond snapping taut between us.I had clung to him as if my life had depended on it, whispering, “I don’t want to wait anymore.”In a flash, he had swept me into his arms.I gasped, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he carried me across the room like I weighed no

• Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    37. The Smell of Death

  Albert I told myself it was just closure.That was the lie I clung to as I walked through the pines again, this time on two legs, heart heavy with resolve and dread. The forest was quieter now, as if it too were holding its breath. I kept my head down, my hands jammed into my coat pockets to keep from turning back. Each step toward Edward’s house made my chest ache harder.I was going to reject him. Tell him we couldn't be mates, not now, not ever.I had to. For my sanity. For Emon. For the wound still festering in me that no apology could heal. If I wanted to move forward and to heal, I needed to do away with him.But gods help me… I didn’t want to.His scent was in the air before I reached the porch, pine, leather and… something deeper. Warmer. It pulled at something feral inside me. My wolf, the fool, stirred with a slow whine.Don’t do this, I told him.But he didn’t listen. He never had.I knocked once.The door opened almost immediately.Edward stood there in jeans and a therma

• Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    36. Smoke in the Pines

  Edward The woods were still breathing behind me, thick with blood and the scent of fear, but I was already thinking of the next one. The first body lay sprawled behind a birch tree, neck at the wrong angle, gun still warm in his hand. Marcus had sent amateurs first. That was his mistake. But I didn't blame him because he knew me as a professor here and not the overall Lord of the Mafia world.He should have investigated who I was before trying to kill me.The SUV they had come in was still idling near the roadside, tinted windows reflecting nothing but trees and the moon. I slipped into the shadows, crouching behind a rotting log as another pair came into view, moving cautiously. Not cautious enough though.Three heartbeats. Two above ground. One in the car. I waited for the wind to shift.There.A flicker of movement. The taller one stepped forward, scanning the woods. His partner swept right, near where I had snapped the neck of the first one.They hadn’t found him yet. But they

• Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    35. The Hunter's Snare

  EdwardThe bond had always been a quiet thing like wind over still water. Subtle. Unspoken. But now, it howled.I sat on the edge of my porch, elbows resting on my knees, a mug of untouched coffee cooling in my hands. The sun was barely up, casting long streaks of pale light across the frost-kissed clearing. Birds chirped somewhere deeper in the trees, but all I could hear was the ache.Albert was in pain and it was hurting me too.It wasn't physical. If it were, I would already be running. No. This was deeper. An emotional kind. The kind of pain that curdled through the bond like poison in the bloodstream. Grief. Conflict. Fear.I stared into the forest, jaw tight.Albert had been here. Hours ago, sometime after midnight. He hadn’t stayed long, hadn’t said anything clear, but I had seen the agony in his eyes. The way he had looked at me like he wanted to both run into my arms and tear out my throat.When he left, I didn't follow because I wanted to give him time to think.And now, th

• Our Little Secret: In Love With My Professor    34. The Shadow Beneath

  EmonThe warehouse was nestled at the edge of the industrial zone, half-concealed by rusted fences and silence. To the world, it looked long abandoned, an empty relic of a collapsed trucking business. But inside, the truth breathed in shadows and gunmetal.This was the place where my base was. My father had allowed me to come to Nevada with the promise that I would expand our territory and I was doing just that.I arrived at 5:57 AM, dressed in black from collar to boots. My hair was still damp from the shower, slicked back neatly. The cold morning air bit at my cheeks, but my blood burned hot beneath my skin.They were already waiting when I stepped inside.Five men stood in formation near the center of the warehouse. No one sat. No one spoke. The space smelled faintly of oil and cold steel, the walls echoing with each heavy boot step as I approached. A sixth man, older, broad-shouldered and graying, waited just slightly ahead of the rest: Marcus, Red Group’s field captain and a trus