punish me

Rose's POV

"A mistake?" He interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. He rose slowly from his chair, unfolding his tall frame with the graceful prowl of a wolf circling its prey. The movement was deliberate, hypnotic, and it sent a shiver racing down my spine. He rounded the desk, each step measured, his boots thudding softly against the stone floor. "Plagiarism isn't a mistake, Ms. Rose. It's theft. Deception. And in our world—in the pack—deception gets you cast out. Or worse. Ripped apart under the full moon as an example to others."

He stopped right in front of me, towering over my seated form. So close now that his heat radiated against my skin, his scent enveloping me completely. My breath hitched, my body reacting against my will. Fear gripped me—visceral, bone-deep fear that made my palms sweat and my vision blur at the edges. But there was anger too, a hot spark igniting in my chest. How dare he loom over me like this, judging me from his pedestal? He had everything—power, respect, that godlike beauty that made everyone else fade into the background. What did he know about scraping by, about the pressure to prove yourself when you were born at the bottom?

My wolf, though... my wolf betrayed me. It whined louder, tail tucked between its legs, but there was a stirring too—a primal pull toward him. Submit. Please him. The alpha's nearness made my skin prickle, heat pooling low in my belly despite the terror. I shifted uncomfortably in the chair, my hands gripping the arms so tightly my knuckles turned white. His presence was suffocating, intoxicating, a magnetic force that drew me in even as every instinct screamed to run.

"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking as I looked up at him. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Not yet. "I can't fail this. My scholarship—it's all I have. My family depends on me staying here. They're low-rank, Professor. Expulsion means I'm done. Banished. A rogue. I'll redo it. Rewrite every single word. Study harder. Work extra hours in the library. Anything. Just... don't expel me. Don't rusticate me."

He tilted his head slightly, those silver eyes boring into mine, peeling back my defenses layer by layer. Exposing the raw vulnerability beneath. "Anything?" he echoed, the word hanging between us like a loaded challenge. His hand reached out, fingers brushing my chin—rough, calloused from shifts and spars, yet commanding in their touch. He tilted my face up fully, forcing me to hold his gaze. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through me, sparking unwanted heat in my core. My wolf keened, pressing against my skin, eager for more. Fear warred with that forbidden arousal, making my breath come in shallow pants.

"Y-yes," I stammered, my cheeks flushing hot with a mix of shame and anger. Anger at him for toying with me, for making me feel this way. Anger at myself for the way my body responded, traitorous and weak. "Anything you ask, Professor. I'll prove it. Just give me a chance."

He didn't release me right away. Instead, his thumb traced the line of my jaw lightly, almost absently, but it felt like fire branding my skin. A low growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through the air and into me. "Begging already," he murmured, his voice a deep, velvety rumble that sent shivers cascading down my spine. "How fitting for an omega like you. But words are cheap, Rylan. Actions speak louder. Show me how much you want this chance."

The implication hung heavy, and my stomach flipped. Show him? Here? Now? Fear surged anew, mingled with a defiant spark of anger. Who did he think he was, demanding this? But desperation won out. I couldn't lose everything. Slowly, I slid from the chair, dropping to my knees on the cold stone floor before him.

The position was humiliating, submissive—my wolf reveling in it even as my human side burned with rage and terror. I looked up at him, my hands clasped in front of me like a supplicant. "Please, Professor Voss," I begged, my voice trembling but earnest. "I'm on my knees. Literally begging you. Don't throw me out. I'll do whatever it takes. Tutor me yourself if you have to. Punish me. Make me rewrite the assignment a hundred times. Scrub the floors of the academy. Anything. Just... have mercy. I swear I'll never deceive you again. I'll be the perfect student. Your perfect student."

His expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker in those silver eyes—amusement? Interest? Something darker? He stepped closer, his polished boots inches from my knees, his hand now resting on the top of my head, fingers threading through my tousled auburn hair. Not gently, but possessively. My wolf preened at the touch, but I fought the urge to lean into it, my anger simmering beneath the fear. "Mercy," he repeated, tasting the word like it was foreign. "Alphas don't grant mercy lightly, pup. It comes with a price."

I nodded frantically, tears finally spilling over despite my efforts. "Name it. Whatever the price, I'll pay it."

The silence stretched, thick and charged with tension. The only sounds were my ragged breathing, the distant howl of wind whipping against the windows, and the faint tick of an antique clock on his desk. His fingers tightened in my hair, pulling just enough to tilt my head back further, exposing my throat in a classic gesture of submission. My pulse thundered there, vulnerable under his gaze. Inside, my wolf howled in a mix of terror and exhilaration, the alpha's dominance calling to it like a siren's song.

Finally, he released me abruptly, stepping back and crossing his arms over his broad chest. I exhaled shakily, collapsing forward slightly, my hands bracing on the floor. The sudden loss of contact left me reeling, missing it more than I cared to admit. "Private tutoring," he said at last, his tone final, brooking no argument. "Every evening, after classes. Here, in my office. You'll report to me promptly at seven. We'll go over the material until you understand it intimately. Every rite, every hierarchy, every forbidden secret. Fail to impress me—fail to obey even once—and the deal's off. You'll be gone by morning. Understood?"

Relief crashed over me like a tidal wave, drowning out the lingering fear and anger for a moment. Tutoring? With him? Alone? It was risky, intimate in a way that made my skin crawl and tingle at the same time. But it was better than expulsion. Better than nothing. "Thank you, Professor," I said, scrambling to my feet on wobbly legs. My knees ached from the stone, but I ignored it. "I won't let you down. I promise. I'll be here at seven sharp. Every night."

His eyes darkened, a hint of amusement flickering in their stormy depths. He leaned in closer one last time, his breath warm against my ear, carrying that intoxicating scent. "Oh, you will disappoint me at first, Ms. Rose. Everyone does. But I'll mold you. Teach you discipline. Obedience. And perhaps... more." His words sent a fresh shiver through me, fear and anger twisting with an unwelcome spark of curiosity. More? What did that mean?

He straightened, dismissing me with a wave. "Now go. Before I change my mind and decide you're not worth the effort after all."

I nodded frantically, grabbing my backpack from where it had fallen and bolting for the door. The corridor outside was empty, the fog pressing thick against the tall windows like ghostly fingers reaching in. I leaned against the cold stone wall, gasping for air, my heart still racing from the encounter.

Tears streaked my cheeks, hot and salty, but I wiped them away roughly. Fear lingered, a cold knot in my gut—what if I couldn't keep up? What if his "tutoring" was just a prolonged punishment? And the anger... it burned low, resentment at his power, at how he'd made me beg like a pathetic pup.