Are Moffitt Library Hours Berkeley Different For Graduate Students?

A spilled drink. A billion-dollar suit. A mate bond that changes everything. Elowen Hale is drowning in debt, hiding her wolfless secret, and just trying to survive her scholarship at the elite Mooncrest University, until she ruins Lycian Valor’s designer suit at a charity gala. Lycian is the cold, untouchable heir to one of the most powerful Alpha bloodlines in the world. At twenty-two and unmated, his wolf is losing control. Then a clumsy scholarship student crashes into him, and his wolf recognizes what his mind can’t accept: she’s his fated mate. There’s just one problem, she’s wolfless. His offer: Pretend to be his girlfriend for one semester. He’ll pay off all her debts. Her response: She laughs in his face. Then accepts, because she’s desperate. What starts as a fake relationship for mutual benefit becomes dangerously real when Elowen’s dormant wolf awakens, revealing she’s not just any wolf, she’s a Moonsilver Alpha, from a bloodline thought extinct and hunted for centuries. Now Elowen must navigate pack politics, survive those who want her dead, and master powers she never knew she had. And Lycian must choose between his pack’s expectations and the mate who was never supposed to exist. When ancient enemies emerge and war threatens everything they love, being the Campus King’s fake girlfriend becomes a matter of life, death, and a mate bond that could unite, or destroy, the entire wolf world.

Sloane Mercer has made it her mission to test every limit Professor Dalton Avery sets. Sharp-tongued, fearless, and irresistibly defiant. She turns his lectures into a battlefield of wit and willpower. Dalton prides himself on control. Of his classroom, of his reputation, and especially of his desires. But when Sloane pushes one time too many, the tension between them finally ignites. What begins as a battle for dominance becomes something far more dangerous. An illicit affair burning with passion, power, and the threat of exposure. The closer Dalton gets to losing himself to her, the more he realizes he never had control at all.

The night before high school graduation, Ethan Luciano pulled me into his bedroom. His hands were rough, his touch demanding, yet my heart overflowed with a decade's worth of unspoken longing. I'd loved Ethan for ten years, and finally, it seemed my silent wishes had come true. Afterwards, as we lay tangled in his sheets, he whispered that he'd marry me after graduation. Once he took over the Luciano family's empire from his father, he'd make me the most cherished woman in the family. I believed him. The next morning, I sat curled up against his bare chest as he casually told my foster brother, Lucas, about us. My cheeks were flushed, and my heart raced, still clinging to the sweetness of the night before. However, then their conversation shifted into Italian. Lucas smirked, leaning back against the doorframe. "Not bad, Young Boss. Your first time, and the school's 'it girl' just threw herself at you. So, how's my little sister taste?" Ethan gave a lazy chuckle. "Looks like an angel, but a freak in the sheets. Who would’ve thought?" The room erupted in low, conspiratorial laughter. Lucas raised a brow. "So, should I call her my little sister or my future sister-in-law?" Ethan’s tone darkened, his arm tightening around my waist for a moment. Then he let out a sigh. "She’s nothing. Just practice," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I’m trying to hook up with the cheer captain, Sylvia Dawson, but I don’t want her thinking I’m clueless in bed. Cynthia Saville’s just a warm-up." He paused. "But don’t tell Sylvia. I don’t need her getting all emotional." They didn't know that I’d spent months secretly learning Italian, preparing for the life I thought I’d share with Ethan. I didn't say a word. Later that day, I quietly withdrew my early decision application to Caltech and applied to MIT instead.

He failed me on purpose—Then he locked his penthouse door and told me exactly how to earn an A. Aleena, a brilliant and rebellious student tries to seduce her young, stunningly handsome professor to get back at her cheating ex boyfriend, only to discover that Professor Lorcan sees right through her game and decides to play a darker one. He fails her paper on purpose, and she goes to his office demanding why. Then he gives her an option: Instead of reporting her to the university board for seducing a Professor, she would serve private detentions in his penthouse office under his absolute command. But what starts as dark game of power quickly unravels into a campus-wide war of obsession, jealousy and forbidden love because everyone wants the untouchable playboy professor and Aleena is the only person he can't resist.

"Oh, fuck," I said aloud, grabbing the sheets harder. His hands found my breasts and he squeezed them slowly, his mouth trailing down until he was blowing warm air against me. He shifted my pants to the side, fingers rubbing slow circles over my clit before pressing a soft kiss there. Then his tongue rolled over it, unhurried, like he had all night. "Damien," I whispered. He didn't stop. Didn't even look up. Just kept going, steady and deliberate, until my fingers twisted deeper into the sheets and my whole body forgot how to be still. Mia Calloway was running out of options fast. Her mother was going to die if she didn't do something, and when she heard about the club, she didn't think twice. She thought it was only going to be that once. Only to walk into her lecture hall the next morning and come face to face with the same man. He was her professor. Now he wants everything, her time, her body, her mind. And every time she tries to walk away, she's pulled in deeper. The closer she gets, the more she realizes the club, the money, the way he chose her, none of it was random. Someone wanted her in his world.

At one in the morning, I was alone in the research building, fighting for my life against my thesis. That was when I opened NearU and saw a viral anonymous post. My girlfriend loved the hair clip I bought her. The attached screenshot showed a girl’s side profile. It was blurred almost beyond recognition. But the blue enamel hair clip was clear. My hand went straight to my hair. Because that exact clip was holding my hair back. Two weeks ago, my anonymous boyfriend had helped me choose it. I had sent him that photo. And now his post showed he was only 300 feet away. I looked down the empty hallway. At this hour, only three places nearby still had lights on. My thesis adviser’s office. The graduate lounge. And the joint lab next door. Then my phone buzzed. Baby? Why did you go quiet? I stared at the message. For three months, I had been flirting with a man whose name I didn’t know and whose face I had never seen. Now he was somewhere in this building. Maybe behind one of those doors. Maybe watching the same hallway. Maybe close enough to hear me breathe. Then I saw the light under Dr. Ford’s office door. My stomach dropped. Because there was one thing worse than falling for a stranger online. Finding out he might be the professor who had just covered my thesis in red ink.