MATED TO MY HOT PROFESSOR

Clara's POV.

I did everything for Dylan.

I gave up baggy clothes for elegant ones because he liked prim and proper girls. I even made sure I lost 40 pounds every week to fit into those model dresses he admired once in a while. I tried to be every inch the perfect princess he'd love and cherish. 

Today, I should be in my dorm room, reading a book or frolicking away in the library like I always did on my birthday’s but he had promised to take me to a special place and I was so excited for it. 

I grabbed my purse and stared at my reflection one more time. Dylan would love this. I'd imagined this moment in my head ten times over. Him smiling when he saw me and wrapping his arms around me. But nothing ever prepares you for when a dream turns into a nightmare.

When I stepped outside, I saw him lean against his black Porsche, dressed in his usual dark jeans and jacket. For a moment, I just stood there and stared at how effortlessly handsome he looked and when he looked at me, I only smiled brighter.

I reached for him. “Hey, babe —”

“That's what you're wearing?” He cut me off with a scoff. 

“What?” I blinked, confused. “What's wrong with what I'm wearing?” 

He pushed off his car and stepped towards me. “Are you really trying to embarrass me, Clara? You look like you just walked out of a thrift store!” 

My throat tightened and I looked down at my dress. The one I'd chosen carefully and suddenly, it didn't look so nice anymore. 

Anna frowned. “Dylan, that's enough. She looks hot in that dress.” 

He turned to glare at my bestfriend. “Hot? She's supposed to be my mate, not a lost waitress.” 

My heart sank. “Dylan…” 

“What?!” He snapped. “You think being mates to me means you can dress however you want? You represent me, goddamit!” 

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I — I can change if you want.” 

He sighed impatiently, running a hand through hair. “Forget it. We're late. Get in the car.” 

The drive was a silent one. I stared out the window trying not to cry. This wasn't the Dylan I knew. The man I knew always brought me wildflowers because they matched my eyes. He never tells me anything that would hurt me. But tonight, he didn't even glance my way the entire ride. Instead, he ratted about slow drivers and how some of them didn't deserve the car they drove. 

I barely heard him. All I could think about was the way he'd looked at me earlier as if I disgusted him.

When we arrived at the clubhouse, the loud bass of the music hit me like a wave, making my heart beat out of rhythm. Disco lights danced across the ceiling, painting faces I didn't recognize with flashes of red and blue. My dress clung too tightly to my skin, my heels felt too high. I didn't know why I dressed up for him, yet, there I was, because he told me to, at Club Surfway, one of the famous hotels in Greywood pack.

Dylan didn't wait for me. He went straight to his friends, leaving me standing at the entrance like an outsider.

Anna nudged me forward. “Ignore him, babes. He's just stressed.”

I nodded, forcing a smile but it felt like lying. All of a sudden, a shrill voice pierced through the music.

“Oh, my gosh. Clara, is that what you're wearing?” Enid, Dylan's childhood friend and the one who made it her life's mission to make me feel small, said.

Before I could even answer, she grabbed my wrists. “You're embarrassing Dylan. Do you even own a mirror?”

“Let go!” I hissed, yanking my hand back. 

She laughed. “Touchy, aren't we?”

Then Dylan appeared behind her with a drink in his hand. “She's right. I told her the same thing.”

I felt heat rush to my face as his friends started laughing. 

I wanted to run. To scream. To disappear. Even Anna tried to defend me but I could barely hear her. I excused myself and ran to the bathroom.

I'd barely made it pass the door when a drunk girl spilt her drink on my skirt. 

“Shit. Sorry.” Her words came out slurred as she apologized. 

This one is not even in her right mind.

Could this party not get any worse? I guess that detour would wait. 

After collecting myself, I decided to go find Dylan to apologize. Maybe I was wrong. The dress didn't look that pretty and I should've worn something better. 

As I walked back to the bar, I asked about his whereabouts but everyone I asked just laughed. What was so funny? I asked someone else and he told me Dylan was in the lounge.

I gripped my purse and began my hunt for the bathroom. Finally I found the door to the lounge. I pushed it open and entered. What I saw next broke something inside me that would never heal.

It's actually a bedroom and lying on the bed with a girl straddling his lap was Dylan. 

Her arms were around his neck and his lips were on hers and worse, he kissed her back. 

A gasp escaped my lips as I watched them and they pulled away briefly.

My eyes widened when they zeroed in on the girl’s brown ones. “Anna?”

“Fuck,” she cursed under her breath. “I can explain…”

There was nothing to explain. The faint glow in her eyes, the mark of a mate bond forming, told me everything I needed to know. 

Anna felt guilty but Dylan, he didn't even flinch.

“Clara,” he said flatly. “You shouldn't have asked where I went.” 

“I shouldn't have asked?!” My voice trembled. “You just claimed her! She's my best friend!" 

He sighed as if I was being unreasonable. “It wasn't supposed to happen but it did. I guess the Moon Goddess made her for me and not you.” 

“No…” tears blurred my vision. “You're lying.” 

“I'm done lying, Clara.” He said in a flat tone. “It's over.” 

I turned away and ran. 

The cold night air slapped against my face as I stumbled outside, tears streaming down my face. My birthday. My mate. My best friend. All gone. 

I didn't stop running till I got to what looked like a bonfire. 

I didn't care about my surroundings. All I could think about was the humiliation and rejection I had to go through.

“I was Dylan's mate. I was his but he chose someone else…” I sobbed.

I turned to run again but my heels gave out under me. I managed to catch myself and pushed forward, but I tripped and hit something. 

Not something — someone. 

Hard chest, strong arms, black coat. 

For a second, I couldn't move. His hands grabbed my shoulders as if to steady me. 

“Hey,” he said in a deep, calm voice. “Are you okay?” 

I looked up into his stormy-grey eyes. Eyes that seemed to see through the mess I was and yet steady enough to ground me and I whispered, “help me.”