Page 8 of Forbidden Devotion
“Careful what you wish for, Mitchel.”
“Bah, it’s never going to happen. I’ve got the lone-wolf thing going for me. Might as well embrace it.”
Josh softened his expression. “Sure it will. The right fellow is out there somewhere.”
“Maybe. But it’s not as if he’s going to turn up at Borson out of the blue.”
“You never know, Mitch. You never know.”
* * *
Sinclair
Feeling very much alonein a house full of standoffish werewolves, Sinclair was eager to begin working. A busy schedule would take his mind off his dismal living situation and keep his focus where it should be. His studies.
Meetings were scheduled with the professors he’d be assisting, with his academic advisers, and with the supervisory board designated to oversee his studies while he was here.
Sinclair left two hours early not only to get away from the hostility but also to walk the campus grounds and get a feel for the place.
Borson’s many academic buildings lay spread out over six hundred partially wooded acres, giving the campus a rustic charm. Though humans attended the booming undergrad program, few were admitted to graduate studies, and PhD candidates were restricted to supernaturals only.
Sinclair would be working exclusively with the supernatural population, given his field of study was off-limits to human students. But in light of the current political climate, the possibility of collaborating with humans was on the table in the future. What might that be like?
He could only hope they were kinder than werewolves.
Speaking of which, several of the colleagues he’d be meeting today were werewolves. Surely, the faculty would be more hospitable than the hostile pack of students he lived with. Right?
Wrong.
Well, mostly wrong. At least they weren’t all wolves. A feline shifter sat on the board, and a warlock taught the intro course Sinclair would soon be assisting. None were overly eager to count a vampire among them, but if he performed well and stayed under the radar, he was confident he could push through the rest of the semester without a hitch.
On his way back to the dorm, he gave himself a little pep talk.
“I can win them over. I’m smart. I’m prepared. I’ll earn my place here, friends or no friends.”
With that in mind, he blazed past the common area toward the kitchen to fix lunch. The kitchen here was nothing like he’d grown accustomed to at Moore. Gone were the stainless steel appliances, the industrial freezers, and the shining granite countertops. In their place stood an old grunting contraption in a muted shade of avocado green, the ice box it came with, and a well-worn butcher’s block for counters. At least everything was reasonably clean.
Sinclair entered and groaned.
Snarly sat at the end of a long picnic-style table and growled as he spotted Sinclair.
He still didn’t know the wolf’s real name. Most of the residents were content to give him the silent treatment—easy enough to ignore—but Snarly was always ready to pick a fight.
“Don’t touch our food. We’ll know if you do. Can smell you a mile away,” Snarly snarled.
Sinclair plucked his deli meat and spicy mustard from the fridge. “This is mine, I assure you.”
“Why are you eating anyway? Don’t you parasites get by on other people’s blood?”
“I’m not dead yet, however much you might wish it.” He searched for his bread, but it wasn’t where he’d left it. “I’m a living vampire. I haven’t been turned. Or can’t you tell the difference?”
“Who cares?”
“You asked why I was eating. I’m alive, same as you.”
“But you drink blood.”
“Sometimes. You expect me to believe you don’t? What about on the full moon?”
