Page 56 of The Wolf Professor

And then… Max’s eyes widened with disbelief as he read on… Many years later, in the year 48,372, Felcin received a pardon.

From Athelrose himself.

For his pack’s brave endeavors in keeping the ogre clans at bay.

But despite the pardon giving him the right to return to Motham, Felcin and his pack decided to remain in the mountains. This was their home now, and their wild, ferocious nature was best suited to tangling with ogres.

Long after he shut the book, Max remained deep in thought.

This was a tale of espionage, of power struggles and survival. But also of brave deeds and forgiveness.

And a pack finding its rightful place in the world.

He sat, staring into the fire, trying to come to terms with everything he’d learned.

Was it true? Was he really half Felcin? Sure, there was some proof in those photos, and the silver of his pelt when he’d shifted. But why had his mom chosen to hide his father’s identity from him?

She was dead, and he couldn’t ask her.

He tried to curb his anger, his sense of betrayal. His mother must have had her reasons.

Had she been afraid to acknowledge that her son had wild alpha blood running through his veins?

Gods, it was hard to face that himself.

Could it account for the events of these last two weeks? For the powerful feelings he had for Charlie?

Yes, he decided, it could.

The incredible chemistry between them had released his inner wolf, shown him his true identity. And now, it was time to rewrite his own history, and rethink his future. A future he knew he wanted Charlie to be a part of.

As he stood up and stretched, his phone pinged with a message from Charlie.

Max’s mouth curved into a smile as he read it.

Is it safe to come back on Monday?

He stared at that message, the little dig at him not wasted. Cheeky little witch.

Another message pinged. This time it was a selfie.

Of Charlie pouting, her beautiful dark curls wild and untamed around her face, an extra button or two on her blouse left open to display the swell of her breasts. Her eyes danced, teasing him, inviting him to play.

An ache started up in his balls, and another, stronger one pulsed around his heart.

He understood now that there was a place where his logical brain couldn’t go. No matter how many books he read, how much he tried to apply rational thought, his wolf would cut through logic every time.

He wrote a reply with clumsy, shaking fingers and had to keep correcting the text, because although the message was fairly innocuous, the emotion behind it was not.

Yes, I can safely say, come back on Monday. I miss you.

He stood chewing on his lip and staring at the screen, then took a deep breath and pressed send.

Not such a lone wolf anymore, eh Max Hunt?

CHAPTER 22

Charlie sat at Sunday lunch with her parents at the beautiful mahogany dining table that Dad had made. She’d been here a few days now, working quietly in the library, and sure, she’d gotten used to being in Tween again, but she didn’t like it. The snooty looks from humans, the designer boutiques and fine-food venues. The genteel smugness of it all. The way folks would look her up and down in a way that clearly said, “that girl needs to do something with her hair.”

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