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Chapter 23: Tangled Hearts in the Rain
Last Updated:
2025-08-01 18:08:50
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The Professor’s Mate: The Moonborn Legacy Chapter 24: Fire in the Storm
SEBASTIAN’S POVRain lashed the windshield, the wipers battling a deluge as I gripped the steering wheel, my Mustang roaring through Novella’s darkened streets. Isabella sat beside me, her seatbelt snug, her breathing soft, her presence a quiet storm in my chest. Maximus prowled, his growls low, my senses intoxicated by her scent—jasmine and rain, mixed with the faint tang of her fear. I stole glances, my eyes tracing her bruised lip, her red hair damp against her cheek, her vulnerability a knife in my gut. Her story by the lake—her parents’ cruelty, her brothers’ lies, the basement she called a room—burned in my mind, fueling a rage I barely contained. I wanted to find them, rip them apart, make them pay for every tear she’d shed. But why? Why did I care this much? My mission was the Moonborn, not some human girl who unraveled me with a glance. I shook my head, my jaw tight, my eyes on the road. Was I falling for her? The thought was a jolt, Maximus whining, urging me closer. No. I
The Professor’s Mate: The Moonborn Legacy Chapter 23: Tangled Hearts in the Rain
SEBASTIAN’S POVHer words hit me like a fist to the chest. “My parents,” she whispered, her voice breaking, tears streaming down her bruised cheeks, her green eyes raw with pain. I sat frozen on the bench by the lake, the shimmering water and vibrant garden fading, my focus locked on her. Maximus growled, a storm of rage and pity churning inside me, my fists clenching on my knees. Her parents? The ones who were supposed to protect her? My jaw tightened, my wolf urging me to act, to tear into anyone who’d hurt her.“Your parents?” I said, my voice low, incredulous, my eyes searching her tear-streaked face. “Why? I mean, how could they…?” I trailed off, my words failing, my chest tight. Isabella laughed, a bitter, broken sound, her hands swiping at her tears. “I highly doubt you’d understand,” she said, her voice cracking, her fingers trembling as she clutched her knees. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her head bowing, her red hair falling over her face like a curtain. I reached into my bl
The Professor’s Mate: The Moonborn Legacy Chapter 22: Truth by the Lake
SEBASTIAN’S POVMy heart thundered, Maximus snarling in my chest as I stared at Caleb, his hand hovering near Isabella’s bruised lip, her flinch cutting me like a blade. She stumbled, her foot catching, her arms flailing, and I moved—faster than human eyes could track, a blur of werewolf speed—catching her waist, pulling her upright. Her green eyes locked on mine, wide with shock, her breath hitching. I’d exposed myself, my secret laid bare in that split-second dash from the podium. No human could move like that, and she knew it. The classroom air was thick, students’ whispers fading as they filed out, oblivious to the storm brewing between us. Caleb stood frozen, his green eyes narrow, Talon’s presence a shadow behind his gaze. He knew what I’d done, what I was, just as I knew him.Isabella broke the silence, her voice trembling, her hands clutching her bag. “How did you… how did you get here?” She stepped back, her eyes darting, fear etched in her bruised face.I didn’t answer, my
The Professor’s Mate: The Moonborn Legacy Chapter 21: Shadows of Suspicion
CALEB’S POVI pulled my Porsche into Crestwood’s parking lot, the engine’s growl fading as I cut the ignition. The morning air was crisp, the campus buzzing with students, their laughter and chatter a dull hum to my werewolf senses. Talon paced inside me, restless, his instincts sharp. I scanned the lot, my eyes darting, searching for a flash of red hair—Isabella. She hadn’t been in class yesterday, her absence a knot in my gut. When I’d dropped her off two days ago, her voice had trembled, her eyes wide with fear, begging me not to take her home. I’d seen her brothers’ car, their smirks, the flash of a phone camera. Something was wrong, and her missing school yesterday confirmed it. Talon whined, urging me to find her, to protect her, but I didn’t know why I cared so much.Girls swarmed as I stepped out, their giggles grating, their phones snapping photos. “Caleb, you’re so hot!” one squealed, twirling her hair. “Are you single? Because I am single,” another cooed, her eyes hungry.
The Professor’s Mate: The Moonborn Legacy Chapter 20: Echoes of the Hunt
SEBASTAIN’S POVMy eyes snapped open, a cacophony of sounds flooding my senses—footsteps clattering down tiled halls, voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony, the sharp beep of machines piercing the air. Maximus surged awake, his ears pricked, his growl low in my chest. I lay on a stiff hospital bed, the sterile scent of antiseptic stinging my nose, the dim glow of fluorescent lights buzzing above. My super hearing amplified every sound: a nurse’s hushed gossip—“Dr. Gail’s sleeping with the new intern”—a doctor’s grim murmur—“I’m sorry, we lost him”—and the squeak of a gurney rolling past. My heart pounded, my breath shallow. A hospital. The worst place for a werewolf like me. One blood test, one slip, and they’d know I wasn’t human. Werewolf hunters prowled Novella, their vendetta against my kind relentless, and I couldn’t risk exposure.I blinked, my vision sharpening, taking in the white walls, the IV drip taped to my hand, the monitor flashing my vitals—too steady for a human, t
The Professor’s Mate: The Moonborn Legacy Chapter 19: Wounds and Whispers
ISABELLA’S POVRain-soaked and shivering, I lay crumpled on the front yard’s muddy grass, my body aching from my parents’ blows, my lip bleeding, my sprained wrist screaming with every pulse. The night had swallowed me, the storm’s icy drops mixing with my tears until I blacked out, the world fading to nothing. Morning light stabbed my eyes as I came to, my head pounding, my skin fever-hot despite the damp chill. Ms. Clara, our housekeeper, knelt beside me, her weathered hands gentle but firm, lifting me from the ground. “Come on, child,” she whispered, her voice soft, her gray eyes kind but weary. She half-carried me inside, my legs wobbling, my breath shallow, and settled me on the worn couch in the basement, my so-called room. The air was damp, the single bulb flickering, casting shadows on the cracked walls. Clara fetched a first-aid kit, her hands steady as she cleaned the cut on my lip, her fingers brushing my bruised cheek. “Hold still, Isabella,” she said, dabbing antiseptic,
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