Page 8 of Defiant Beta

"She will.” I turn to enter the teacher’s dorm. “Leave it with me. I’ll chase her off.”

“And if you don’t,” Levi adds. “I most definitely will.”

Done.

We separate, staggering our return to the teacher’s dorm just like we have over the past three weeks.

Chapter 4

Della

“Lyra saidProfessor Vincent is wearing the tweed again,” Cheyenne says as we leave the dining hall behind us after another delicious breakfast.

All the girls sigh in pleasure.

“Professor who?” I ask.

Focusing on their conversation isn’t easy. I’m down to one small bottle of perfume, and this morning, I stared at the contents, trying to work out how many sprays I had before I run out.

And I can’t run out in here.

“Substitute math teacher. Oh, you missed that class because you were sick, right?”

No. I missed it because I was setting the dining room on fire. “What’s he like?”

“That man knows how to wear the heck out of a tweed jacket. Shame he’s so boring to listen to. But to watch?” Alyce blows a chef’s kiss.

As I enter the classroom, Professor Vincent, a tall, dark-haired man wearing a gray tweed jacket, stands with his back to me, scrawling terrifying equations onto a whiteboard.

Those shoulders are familiar.

I hover just inside the room, eyeing him curiously. It can’t be the alpha hunk with the wet shirt from last night. The odds of that would be?—

He turns.

Hello. I take in cold, steel-gray eyes, a strong nose, and a handsome face carved from granite. He’s hotter in daylight with the sunlight bouncing off his chiseled jaw.

Last night, he pinned me against the wall and growled at me like he was getting ready to throw me to the ground and fuck me.

I was beyond flustered when I returned to the dorms. River asked me why I was so flushed. I stammered some excuse about getting lost and quickly got ready for bed, where I spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking of a man with steel-gray eyes doing filthy things to me that the teachers would not approve of.

His gaze sweeps over me before shifting away, his expression unaltered. It’s as if last night never happened. I won’t lie, it’s a touch disappointing that he’s so unaffected when I’m trying desperately not to blush. “You’re all late. Sit.”

We all take our seats, and I pull out my notebook and pen, expecting another surface-level class.

The blond male omega on my left immediately catches my eye. And his scent: caramel corn, the super fresh type from one of those carts at the fair. His lip curves up in a half-smile when he notices me looking.

He’s pretty.

“Hey, I’m Aden.” His hazel eyes lazily survey me, and it’s clear he likes what he sees. “You’re new.”

This experience is new. I've always been the cute redhead, a friend rather than a beauty who attracts flirtatious attention.

I return his smile. “Iamnew. Do you?—”

“The answer, Miss Farrow.” A cold voice cuts through my response.

I turn to the front and realize I need to learn to stop being so easily distracted. “Yeah?”

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