JOURNEE'S POV

Three weeks into this treaty, and I still hadn't found a hallway in this building that didn't feel like enemy territory. Every stare followed the same pattern — a flick of the eyes, a slow once-over, then dismissal, like I was something they'd been forced to tolerate rather than someone they'd agreed to welcome. My father's last text was still open on my phone: Keep your head down. Six more months. He always made peace sound so simple from three hundred miles away.

I hadn't planned on thinking about any of that today. I had a schedule, and I was going to stick to it drop off the assignment, get to tutoring, survive until curfew without incident. Simple. Manageable. The kind of day that didn't require bracing for anything.

I adjusted the strap of my bag and walked down the empty hallway toward Mrs. Cross's classroom. My headphones blasted Westlife bangers straight into my ears, the beat thumping through my chest and helping me push off the overwhelming anxiety.

I nodded along, my lips moving silently to the lyrics as I balanced three thick computer science textbooks in my arms.

I had three hours of tutoring sessions ahead but since her class was closer I decided to drop off the assignment. I paused in front of the large wooden door and just as I pulled my headphones out my ears caught something strange.

I froze mid-step, confusion washing over me as I looked at the headphones. That sound definitely did not come from my playlist. A female moan was definitely not something I expected to hear.

Another sound followed, louder this time and I felt my tummy twist. Whatever was happening behind that door had nothing to do with me and just as I moved my legs to walk away I heard a very familiar voice.

"Yeah, just like that. You feel so fucking good." Unable to stop myself, I leaned closer and nudged the door open using my shoulder.

It was barely a crack but it was enough to see and I felt my face pale. Mrs. Cross was bent over her desk, her grey pencil skirt pushed up.

She had this look of pure ecstasy, but what took my attention was the man behind her.

Kingston Reyes.

He had his dick deep in her, his black hair falling over those bright green eyes as he fucked her hard.

One of his large hands gripped her hair, pulling her head back while the other held her hip so tightly it could leave a mark. He looked feral, completely in control as he drove into her again and again.

"Such a dirty professor, letting me fuck you like this on school property," he growled, voice low and degrading. "Bet you've been thinking about this all week."

She let out a shaky moan, her nails digging into the desk. I should have been disgusted, probably even back away but I couldn't stop myself from staring. The way his muscles flexed under his shirt and the way Mrs. Cross moaned louder when he spoke made heat crawl up my neck.

I could feel my nipples tighten underneath my bra, and shame flooded me instantly. What was wrong with me?

Suddenly, Kingston pulled out flipping her around so she faced him only to slam back in.

Mrs. Cross tried to kiss him but he turned his face away, wrapping his hand around her throat instead.

Her eyes widened with nothing more than ecstasy, and she whispered, "I'm going to cum!"

I had been so immersed in what was happening in front of me and my own arousal that I had not noticed how sweaty my hands were until it was too late.

The large books slipped out of my hand and my eyes widened as I tried to reach out for them. Somehow, I lost my balance pushing past the door and falling into the lecture hall.

Mrs. Cross let out a horrified shriek. "Oh my God, Journee! What are you doing here?"

She frantically tried to push Kingston off and yank her skirt down at the same time, but he refused to budge.

Still buried in her and with his hand on her neck, Kingston turned to me, his green eyes having that odd glow.

"Well, well. Look who we have here. If it isn't my favorite little spy." He mocked and I watched his lips stretch into a devious smirk.

Rage burned through the embarrassment. He had called me that stupid nickname for the past two years, ever since my father sent me to this school. I hated it and each time it brought me closer to punching him.

My dad only wanted me here to prove to Kingston's father the Alpha of the Bloodline pack; that our families could coexist. Peace between packs or whatever, but Kingston had made it his mission to torment me instead.

Mrs. Cross finally managed to shove him back and she slid off the desk, her legs still shaky.

I watched her put her clothes and hair in place, her face a bright red color. "This is not what it looks like. I mean, it is, but please, Journee, you don't have to say anything. I could lose my job. Everything."

Her voice cracked with panic as she gave me a pitiful look, then rushed past me and out the door, heels clicking rapidly down the hallway.

I stayed on the floor for a second, heart pounding, before pushing myself up. Kingston tucked himself back into his jeans casually, as if nothing unusual had happened. He was about six feet five with a muscular body that made even his fellow hockey mates look small. Even now, breathing hard and still flushed from what he had been doing, he still looked like he could crush me without trying.

"What are you staring at, little one?" his softness in his voice wasn't what I expected.

"You're not supposed to be fucking a teacher," I said, keeping my voice as calm as possible even though my hands would not stop shaking. "You could get expelled. She could lose her license. This is insane." My words took an effect on him and I watched those eyes darken.

"Don't act like you're worried about that, sweetheart." He was in front of me before I could even blink.

He leaned in close enough until his breath was hot against my skin. "You watched for a long time, Journee. You looked pretty invested."

"I was-" It wasn't that long. It couldn't be that long.

"What?" He pulled back just enough to look at me, "Shocked? Curious? Or did you like what you saw?"

My face erupted in heat. I could feel the blush crawling down my neck. "I wasn't-" I tried again, but my voice came out breathy and wrong.

"Your pupils are dilated," he observed, tilting his head like he was studying a particularly interesting experiment.

"Your heartbeat is racing. I can hear it from here." He inhaled slowly, deliberately. "And your scent just changed."

Oh goddess. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I whispered.

"Liar." He said it softly, almost fondly. "You're a terrible liar, little spy. Your body tells me everything your mouth won't."

His finger reached out to trail my earlobe. "Did you like watching me fuck her?" he asked, voice dropping to something rough and quiet. "Did you imagine what it would feel like if it was you bent over that desk?"

I stopped breathing for a second.

"Or maybe," he continued, his finger tracing back up to my shoulder, "you liked the way I had my hand around her throat. Is that it? You want to know what it feels like to have me that close?"

"I don't-"

"Your nipples are hard," he said flatly, and I watched his eyes drop to my chest for half a second before returning to my face.

Mortification crashed through me. I crossed my arms over my chest, but it was too late. He had already seen.

"Stop, please ... " I managed, my voice cracking.

"Stop?" His eyes glinted with something between amusement and hunger. "I shouldn't notice that you're wet for me right now? Because I can smell that too, Journee. And fuck if it isn't the sweetest thing I've ever ... "

"Shut up!" I finally found my voice, shoving at his chest with both hands but he didn't move an inch. "You're disgusting." His lips curled into a smirk that I wanted to wipe off his face. "I came to turn in an assignment," I said, my voice shaking. "Not to watch you. Not to-" I couldn't even say it.

"And yet." He shrugged one broad shoulder. "Here we are. You watched, got wet, and pretended to my face that you didn't enjoy the scene. You're such a beautiful liar, Journee."

I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream at him. But my body was still humming, still betraying me, and he could probably see every single thing I was trying to hide.

"Just stay away from me," I finally said.

His smile widened. "Not a chance, little spy."

I didn't wait for him to continue taunting me as I turned on heels and ran, leaving turned my books and headphones scattered on the floor behind me.

What the hell was wrong with me? I wandered in a daze, trying to find the nearest bathroom so I could splash water on my face and pull myself together.

Just as I reached for the door handle, a familiar voice called out behind me.

"Journee! There you are. What are you doing? We have to get ready for the hockey game. It's the first assistant coach session of the season, remember?"

I turned to see Marley jogging toward me, her ponytail bouncing. She looked overly excited, unaware of how bad this news was. I had completely forgotten about the hockey commitment. Of course, I had. My brain was still stuck on what I had witnessed in that classroom.

"Oh. Right," I said, trying to sound normal. "Yeah, I remember now."

Marley tilted her head, stray hairs covering her forehead. "You okay? You look really flushed."

"I'm fine," I lied. "Just ... ran here from the other side of the building."

She grinned and looped her arm through mine. "Well, hurry up. We need to meet up with the team. That means we have to see that asshole Kingston too. Try not to kill each other today, okay?"

I forced a small laugh, but inside my stomach twisted again. oh goddess, i was so done for.