All Chapters of The Professor’s Mate: The Moonborn Legacy: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

ISABELLA’S POVMy alarm clock screeched at 4:45 a.m., a shrill knife slicing through the darkness of my attic room. I jolted upright, my heart pounding against my ribs, the thin mattress creaking beneath me. The air was stale, heavy with dust and the faint tang of mildew from the cracked wooden beams overhead. My room—if you could call it that—was a forgotten corner of our Mansion, a cramped attic with a slanted ceiling that forced me to stoop. The walls were bare, save for a faded poster of Ariel, her red hair a beacon of hope I clung to. My brothers, Dylan and Lucas, slept in their proper bedrooms downstairs, their walls plastered with posters of sports cars and rock bands. Even Maria, our head servant, had a cozy room off the kitchen. But me? I was banished to this prison, my existence a stain on my family’s pristine canvas. I swung my legs over the bed, my bare feet brushing the cold floorboards. My red hair, tangled from restless sleep, fell over my shoulders, catching the dim

SEBASTIAN’S POVI thought fleeing from BloodMoon pack would bring some sort of peace to my soul but that was a big lie. I had fled to Novela, craving a life of peace and solitude for the remaining days of my life, but somehow the Moon Goddess, Hecate, had other plans—this mysterious girl in front of me. I’d so wanted to mind my business when I saw her walk-in dripping water like she had just taken a swim and had forgotten to dry off before coming here, but I couldn’t, not with my wolf being restless, its claws scraping my soul, sensing something I couldn’t name.She was a storm in a soaked blue dress, nineteen and fearless, or maybe just broken. I watched her slam tequila shots, her hands trembling, her green eyes hollow. When those three drunks cornered her, their hands groping, my wolf snarled, a primal urge I couldn’t ignore. I didn’t play hero—never had—but something about her pulled me, like a thread stitched into my bones. I moved, my fists a blur, bones cracking under my knuckl

SEBASTIAN’S POVMy boots hit the lecture hall’s polished floor, the echo swallowed by the hum of students settling into their seats. I straightened my blazer, my pulse steady despite the weight of thirty pairs of eyes. “Good morning, class,” I said, my voice cutting through the chatter. “I’m Sebastian Wolfe, your new history professor.”The words rolled out smooth, practiced but my wolf stirred, a restless claw scraping my chest. A shift, subtle but sharp, like a scent caught on the wind. My green eyes scanned the room, searching for the source, and landed on her. Red hair, wild and loose, framed a pale face, her green eyes wide with shock. The girl from last night—My supposed Mate—sat in the back row, her fingers frozen on a notebook, her lips parted. Maximus, my wolf, stilled, a calm I hadn’t felt in years, as if she were a tether grounding its chaos. My breath hitched. Of all the fucked-up twists fate could throw, it chose this: the girl I’d fucked in a frenzy of tequila, the sa

ISABELLA’S POVI stumbled out of Sebastian’s office, my sneakers squeaking on the stone floor, my chest tight with a familiar ache—rejection. His cold dismissal, his eyes glued to his papers, cut deeper than I expected. I’d stood there, clutching the history club budget, hoping for… what? A smile? A hint of the man who’d held me last night, his lips claiming mine? Instead, he’d acted like I was nothing, a stranger, not the girl he’d fucked in a bar’s private room. My cheeks burned, my fingers twisting my backpack strap as I hurried down Crestwood’s gothic hallway, the arches looming like judgmental eyes.Had he seen the nude photos? The question gnawed at me, a worm in my gut. Vanessa’s taunts in class—whoring around, nude pics everywhere—echoed in my head. Did Sebastian believe them? Was that why he gave me the cold shoulder, his voice clipped, his gaze avoiding mine? I knew the photos were fake, a cruel prank Jake had spread at his party, his betrayal sealed with a smirk. But no one

SEBASTIAN’S POVI strode across Crestwood’s parking lot, the asphalt crunching under my boots, my briefcase swinging in my grip. The day had been a shitstorm—Vanessa’s venom, Isabella’s tears, the realisation that the girl I made mad love to was my student, the threatening mate bond I couldn’t shake. My first day as a history professor, and I was already drowning in chaos I hadn’t signed up for. All I wanted was my car, my peace, a chance to bury this mess. My silver Bugatti Chiron glinted ahead, its sleek curves a quiet flex of my wealth, a mask for the Lycan hiding in this human world. The professor gig was just a cover, a way to hunt the Moonborn without drawing BloodMoon’s eyes. But fate had other plans. A body slammed into mine, soft and slight, knocking the air from my lungs. Maximus roared, the word Mate exploding in my mind, louder than a gunshot, sharper than silver. I staggered, my eyes locking on Isabella Hart, her red hair wild, her green eyes wide with panic. My gaze dr