Novel & Cerita Professor And The Madman Book

This time, he wasn't looking at the ladies or smiling with them, he was staring at him. The old man's words were now like a background sound to the king, it was like he was speaking far from him. He ignored everything around and kept watching the young guard who pressed his lips tight and blinked several times as he tried not to break their eye contact. The court ladies touched his chest and his arms, but it didn't affect Alec. His eyes couldn't stop looking at Kenneth. He was hypnotized by his intense stare, magnetised by the mysterious scar around his eye. He was known as the Mad King, the man who kills to satisfy his thirst. But now, stood a man foreign to his eyes, a king with elegancy a

I'M DEAD ### " Not once, not twice, not thrice I've been caught you reading your nonsense novel in the middle of my discussion Ms. Madrigal. Not just me but almost of your subject teacher talked about this, talked about your behavior. Focus your attention on the discussion and you can read that novel of yours after the class ended. For now, I'll be keeping this for good." " But…" " No buts, Ms. Madrigal." I exited from our professor's office with heavy shoulders. I feel like my whole world collapses. Why does it have to be my book? I can't read my love anymore. I am at the very climax of the story. They already confessed, they kissed. What's next? What's next? What's next? I wanted to read i

“I suggest you find another seat, Marcus, because if I get up it’ll be to whoop your ass.” “Mr. Ortega, take a seat before I kick you out.” The Professor, I couldn’t place his name because we’d talked to all of them, stood at the podium. His shoulder length black hair tied at the nape of his neck, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other held his glasses. Mr. Sanders called him the Pretty Boy Professor. Apparently, the girls in the school all secretly crushed on him. Marcus chuckled lightly but went and took a seat on the opposite side of the classroom. Ansley lowered her head and covered her forehead with her palm, slowing sinking lower into her seat.

All the books were on the floor. God! It wasn't a nightmare or an imagination. Prof. Stephan was really in too last night, and he has rearranged my guts and fucked me till I was too boneless to move my body and too tired to keep my eyes open. Shame wrapped itself around my neck and squeezed like a vine till it physically hurt. I couldn't believe I allowed it again. I couldn't believe I allowed my step-uncle and professor to fuck me like a common and filthy whore on his first night in the house.

The man who held a knife to my throat and told me to run. He stood there in a black suit, calm and untouchable, as though none of it had ever happened. “Good morning,” he said, his voice smooth and collected. “I’m Professor Zander. I’ll be taking you through this course for the semester.” The classroom buzzed with whispers. Girls giggled softly, already swooning over the new professor’s looks. The guys leaned back, unimpressed. But no one, no one saw what I saw. His hands. His eyes. That night.

Placing the creature in his lab coat's hollow pocket, he grabbed a book from the dusty shelf. "Sine Scientia Ars Nihil Est," he said, reading the title aloud. Flipping the pages but without looking at them, he stared at the elderly professor's back. "Spirits are fine partners for the world, Professor. But we can't fully explain their weird abilities with our science as of now, right? And we can't just go and disturb the balance, sir—" Zen heaved out a sigh and turned his head only to look at the young man with a scornful face.

“Nude.” My entire body went rigid. “What the hell?” His expression remained frustratingly composed. “You heard me.” “You cannot be serious.” “I’m perfectly serious.” I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, stepping backward and putting space between us before I did something stupid, like forget this man was my professor and throw the nearest object at his head. “You told me to follow you to your office, blackmail me with my scholarship, and now you’re asking me to take my clothes off for you?”

he said as if he were reading my mind. “Holy shit,” I mumbled, tightening my hold on the cup. “Well…let’s get this show on the road. As you know, I am Professor Elias Grey, and it seems there has been some sort of…improper pairing. My wolf and I recognized us as mates, but nothing will come of it,” he insisted. A brow slid to my hairline. “Improper pairing? Is that a fancy way of saying that the Moon Goddess made a mistake? I hadn’t expected you to be so blasphemous.”

The only thing I know for sure at this point is that this Big Man, while not kind to me, is simple-minded and doesn't want anything to happen to me any more than anyone else, and that's something I can put to good use. "Why do you say that what Madman told you must be true? And where does he know all these Sin Pack secrets from?" Big Man is not in doubt, he will answer all questions, "I tell you, Madman, he is a super powerful and mysterious guy!" I didn't say anything and continued to listen to him. "The Madman used to be a psychiatrist, do you know how he got in? I heard that he tampered with the memory of one of his patients through hypnosis, turning that patient into a numb and cold-bloo

Leather briefcase that landed on the desk with a decisive thud. No smile. No warmth. No “Hi, I’m your new professor” niceties. Just pure, distilled authority. “Literature,” he said, voice smooth like aged whiskey but slicing like glass. “Is the science of manipulation. I am Professor Alessandro Martinez. Let’s begin.” My heart stuttered, traitorously.