Page 10 of Ruined Wolfsbane

Hearing a growly, commanding voice, I snap my eyes up to the front of the classroom.

Professor Malachi Grimm starts introducing himself. His arresting midnight eyes are trained on me as he speaks. He launches into an intro to Latin. We’re going to learn about the history of Rome, as well as the Latin language.

I’ve always been fascinated by Roman history, so I’m excited about this class. It won’t be as boring as I thought.

The whole time he’s speaking, Malachi Grimm stares intently at me. He finally breaks eye contact at the end of the hour to write our assignment on the board.

While everyone else scrambles to leave, I stay in my chair. I slowly pack up my things as I wait for the room to empty. Talking about needing accommodations is embarrassing enough without the whole class hearing it. As the last student leaves, I realize I can’t put off talking to the professor any longer. I have my advisor meeting in half an hour, so I need to get this wrapped up quickly.

Fortifying myself with a calming breath, I make my way to the front of the classroom.

Professor Malachi Grimm waits for me, leaning slightly on his desk. His deep blue eyes track me the whole way. “Is there something you need, Miss…?” His voice sounds like a low growl. The rough, gravelly sound of it makes me shiver unconsciously. With an expectant gaze, he peers down at me.

I tell him my name and give him the same speech I gave his brothers. You’d think it would be easier the third time. It’s not any better. Giving the speech is just as nerve-racking as it was this morning.

“You can record my lectures. Since participation is a large portion of your grade, I’ll need to get back to you on alternative assignments.” I nod as he finishes, ready to be done with asking for accommodations.

I turn to go.

When his hand snakes out toward my wrist, I flinch, instinctively recoiling at his sudden movement. My body curls around itself in protection from a blow I realize too late isn’t coming.

Oh God. I flinched.

Closing my eyes, I pray to a god I don’t believe in that he missed my reaction. That he didn’t notice how I cowered from his sudden movement. That he thinks it’s normal to flinch at a man’s hand moving quickly toward me.

I know I’m not that lucky when he calls out to me softly. “Briar…” he begins, like he isn’t sure what to say.

I don’t think. I just run, needing to get out of here before he asks questions I can’t answer.

I make it to the door and start to pull it open when a large hand slams into the wood near my head. He forces the door closed. Resting my forehead against the smooth wood, I’m unable to face him. He’s standing so close that I can feel his body heat radiating off him and his warm breath tickling my neck.

“Turn around, Briar,” Malachi Grimm orders softly.

Briefly, I debate ignoring him, but I know he won’t let this go. I turn around.

He backs up slightly to allow me to face him. Then, he crowds closer and rests both of his giant palms near my head. Leaning toward me, he locks eyes with me. “I would never hurt a woman. I will never lay my hands on you in anger, Briar.”

His gravelly voice is sincere, but he sees too much. “That’s not—” I try to protest. He silences me with a look. I swallow convulsively as I realize he’s not going to buy my weak excuses.

“Another thing you need to know about me, I don’t tolerate liars. Don’t fucking lie to me, Briar. You won’t like the consequences.” His voice is soft but has a dangerous edge.

His threat—or promise—doesn’t scare me like it probably should. Instead, I’m curious what the consequences are. Something in me wants to push this carefully controlled man until he loses control.

“Nod if you understand.” Malachi Grimm thrives on giving orders. I’m not sure he knows how to ask someone to do something. He just demands.

Wanting this conversation to be over, I nod.

His eyes flicker between mine a few times before he continues. “I apologize for earlier. I shouldn’t have grabbed you. That was unprofessional, and it won’t happen again. I wanted to let you know I’m your advisor. No need to rush off because we’re scheduled to meet after this.”

Christ on a bike.

He’s my advisor?

Awesome.

Of course, I flinch in front of the professor I’ll spend the most time with. WHU assigns students one advisor for their entire time here. I’ll have to meet with him regularly, even when I’m not in his class.

Wanting to crawl into a hole and disappear, I close my eyes. How long can I avoid his questions about why I flinch at sudden movements? I know with certainty it won’t be four years.

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