Page 4 of The Wolf Professor

He almost sprang backward.

What alpha shit was his mind coming up with?

He’d get it under control. He absolutely would. He’d never had a problem before with his wolf. But somehow, nothing had felt as challenging as the prospect of delectable Charlie Sullivan living in close proximity for the next four weeks.

“Follow me,” Max said, and bolted. He took the stairs at speed, trying to blot out images of their heads close together at the desk in his study, imaging those breasts, bobbing in his peripheral vision the whole fucking time. His nostrils flared, quivering and ready to scent her, and yes, he could detect the sweetness of her, a light perfume, or maybe just a floral soap mixed with a sweet femininity. And a hint of… arousal.

Arousal?

No fucking way. He must be imagining that.

At the landing, he turned left and strode along the corridor to her room.

“Gosh it’s big, isn’t it,” she said. He assumed she meant the house.

Max flung open the bedroom door.

“Oh, very nice,” she exclaimed admiringly. “What a beautiful bed.” She let out a soft sigh as her gaze rested on the ornate four-poster bed that stood in the center of the room. A sudden image of encircling her soft curves with his big arms, and literally marching her over to that bed and thrusting her down on it, had Max’s head spinning.

“Does this house belong to you?”

“No,” he said, glad to focus on light small talk while he stemmed the tide of lust. “It’s owned by an academic I know, who fortuitously is away this month.”

“It’s beautifully furnished,” she said, gazing around, wide-eyed. “It looks like early Motham Gothica.”

“Yes. I believe the furniture dates back to that era. The house is constructed of Malibar stone, built around the same time as Motham Palace.”

“Malibar stone was stolen from human-owned quarries by gargoyles, was it not?”

“The evidence certainly points to it being gargoyles. Though dragons refute that, claiming they were the main bearers of the stone. Most likely species one-upmanship.”

“I really can’t wait to get started on this research,” she said as he placed her case on the ottoman at the end of the bed. “And Professor Hunt, may I say how much I loved your first book, and how very ashamed it made me to be human.”

Max hid a lip twitch. He may have got her gender wrong, but he’d been right about the groveling. How old was she? Early to mid-twenties, at most. Part of the new generation of humans with a conscience, earnest and full of fervor, wanting to put all the wrongs of the past to rights. Unaware that plenty of monsters had perpetrated heinous crimes during the war, too. His own species included.

He forced himself to look at her. “Thank you. But really, you are not responsible for the deeds of your forebears.”

Her chin kicked up. “I beg to disagree. We modern humans need to acknowledge that the DNA of our violent past runs through our veins.” A spark lit in the depths of her eyes. “We are still capable of harming monsters, and my understanding is that we still exploit many species. We must consciously choose to stop.”

She held his gaze steadily and Max nodded. This young woman had substance, and he admired that, in among all the other more alarming feelings she engendered in him.

“Indeed. But I would have to say, er—do you prefer Charlie or Charlotte?”

“Please, call me Charlie.”

“Well, Charlie, we wolves were not exactly squeaky clean.”

“Are you referring to the wolf mutiny of 48,351?”

“Sadly yes, and the resultant colonization of wolf packs in the Wastelands, now known as the ferals. But even some of the city’s mainstream wolves are not the finest examples of Motham citizens.” His own pack among them, Max thought grimly.

He hoped she hadn’t made the link with the name. He certainly never publicized the fact that he was related to them.

He was nothing like his pack. Except… A tingle of alarm at the overpowering arousal he’d felt on seeing Charlie gave him pause. What if… what if at his core, hewasjust another Hunt? Debauched, uncivilized.

Max banished the thought. See, he’d already got his earlier glitch under control. He was even managing to converse quite easily with her now.

He let his shoulders relax. Yep. All good, the professor was winning out over the wolf.

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