Page 15 of The Wolf Prince's Fated Heart

"Yes," Graham confirms. "The other witches didn't know this until years later. They'd never done blood magic before."

"What did this new curse do?" I ask, hugging myself tighter. It's a crazy tale, and yet, it sounds so right.

"Instead of men spending an eternity as beasts, they spent it with the beasts," Graham explains. "They were forced to share their bodies with another soul. With the spirit of a wolf. Though many times it is said that wolves are the beasts, I can tell you from personal experience that a lot of wolves are much better mannered than their human companions."

"How do you know so much about it?" I ask, raising my brow. It certainly sounds like some sort of secret society to me. The one you've spent years learning about and then a lifetime trying to leave behind once you became a fully-fledged member.

"It's a legend I grew up with," Graham says, his dark eyes locking on mine. "It's my family's origin story."

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It's official. I've lost my marbles.

The MIT's top graduate loses her shit over a fucking story that isn't even true.

I burst out laughing again. "Right. Your family's origin story."

"You don't believe me, Miss Strayed?" Graham teases, enjoying my reaction, much to my dismay.

"No," I lie blatantly. "I don't. Especially not the part where you think you're a wolf-man. That's what you're talking about, isn't it?"

Another beat passes, and this time, my face hardens.

"Alright, hold that thought," Graham orders me. His strong hand wraps around my wrist, giving it a soft squeeze. Then he leaves the room, leaving me alone with the big screens and silence.

Don't be nervous, my brain tells me.

Right. It's impossible not to be nervous when an imaginary wolf-man wants to tell you something important.

Graham returns after a while. "I've sent everyone home," he tells me.

My eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because it's important that there are no witnesses for what I'm about to show you," he says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Now, I'm going to get murdered. Thanks, God. Just what I need in my life.

"Why? What will you show me?" I force the question out.

Fuck it. I might as well get to know the nuts and bolts of my soon-to-be murderer.

"I need you to calm down, Cassidy," Graham says. "I know that what I told you sounded crazy, but you need to brace yourself for what I'm about to show you, okay? I promise that you won't get hurt. I swear it on my life."

There are very few things I do in life without carefully planning every single detail, and there are very few things in life that can startle me.

But looking at this hard-muscled boss of mine, I can't find anything to say. With all the crazy things that I've been told and the crazy things that I've seen, I'm afraid of what will happen next.

The expression on Graham's face is completely stoic. Emotionless, like a mask. The kind you could find on someone who'd rather not be participating in the events going on around them, but has no choice because it's a part of their job. It tells me something about him. He's not enjoying himself being put on display like this.

"Go ahead and show me," I say, squaring my shoulders.

Without a word, Graham rises from the sofa and leans forward. To my surprise, he undoes his belt first, then moves to the zipper of his pants.

"Woah, woah," I say, taking a step away. That's not how I envisioned getting frisky with a boss. At least not a naked, dick out, wang-around boss. No offense. His head of wolf is not my cunny's business.

"Relax, Cassidy," Graham says in a soothing voice. "Everything's fine."

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