Page 4 of Forbidden Devotion
Mitchel dropped his hands on Nathan’s slim shoulders. “Then I trust you to handle it. Okay?”
Nathan snorted a frustrated breath through his nose. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”
“Noted.” Mitchel took Nathan in from head to toe, a quick assessment for signs of duress. The young graduate student looked ruffled, but he always looked ruffled: messy brown hair, wrinkled T-shirt, worn black jeans, and an expression that said, “I-was-up-until-2:00-a.m.-finishing-a-paper-that-was-due-at-midnight.” He spent his time reading and studying, not primping and pampering. As it should be. “You’ll be fine.”
Nathan shrugged. “If you say so. You ready for the Alpha Gala?”
Mitchel cast a glance at the mess on his bed. “Not exactly. Lost my tie.”
“I can’t picture you in a suit.”
“Don’t try. It isn’t pretty.”
That got a chuckle out of the younger shifter. “Want help?”
“Thanks, but no. I’ll borrow one from another alpha if I have to. I should have left an hour ago.”
“You’re lucky. Partying and dancing all week while we’re stuck here studying for exams.”
Nathan didn’t know Mitchel would trade places in a heartbeat. Studying sounded downright relaxing compared to the social whirlwind he’d be facing.
“Yeah, yeah. Now shoo.” Mitchel nudged him toward the door he’d left hanging wide open. “And if you’re ever planning to be an alpha someday, don’t. It’s not worth it.”
Nathan’s laughter rang out merrily. “You’re a great alpha, Mitchel. We’re lucky to have you.”
“Finally, something we agree on.”
Nathan left, and Mitchel hesitated for a moment. Should he run to the pack’s aid after all? Fix whatever problem had sprung up? No. They needed to test their independence. That’s what college was for. His pack would be fine without him while he attended the gala. They were good kids, young adults, really. He trusted them.
Mostly.
It was Mitchel who was fucked. One thought of those stuffy keynote speeches, the awkward ballroom dance, packed communal brunches, and tedious meetings all but had him bailing. But an alpha couldn’t bail on the Alpha Gala, even if he did dread the entire event.
He stuffed the nicer half of his minimal wardrobe into a beat-up brown leather suitcase and mashed it closed.
As he glanced from one end of the cabin to the other, the roof creaked loudly overhead. A blustery day meant a new reminder the shingles were long overdue to be replaced.
His little cabin on the outer edges of Borson University’s campus needed a lot of work. First and foremost, a new roof and a chimney sweep before winter set in. He’d rather stay home and attend to that job.
He’d rather stay home and clean the baseboards with a single Q-tip, but it wasn’t happening.
Mitchel never had enough time for anything on his to-do list. Not while running a pack of college-aged werewolves. He felt older and older with each graduation, each new class of freshmen, each wolf younger than the last.
Another year gone by.
Another year spent alone.
The fact that he’d be turning up to yet another annual gala as an aging eligible bachelor had not escaped him.
Though he’d often received the attention of other alphas, women who saw the potential of merging two strong bloodlines, alas, Mitchel favored men. And among werewolves, his preference was somewhat of a rarity. If he didn’t put himself out there to meet more people, he’d be single forever.
Maybe that was fine.
As he mentally prepared for the onslaught of social niceties, small talk, and cocktails, Mitchel took one last look around his house and spotted that stupid tie halfway buried under a patchwork quilt thrown over the ottoman. He grabbed the blasted thing, crammed it into his suitcase, and shut off the lights.
Time to hit the road.
CHAPTERTHREE
