Chapter 9

Mallory

For a second, I was shocked by my own thoughts. Wait — was I actually replaying that man's appearance in my head?

No. That wasn't the point. I shouldn't be thinking like that.

He was a fugitive outsider, mortally wounded, breaking into the forbidden zone to hide.

And I was a wolfless nobody who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, did the right thing, and ended up with a ridiculous outcome.

I couldn't let myself think about that man anymore. He wasn't from the academy. As long as I didn't go looking for him, as long as I never set foot in the forbidden zone again, our paths would never cross.

A mark's scent faded with time.

I trusted my scent-block powder. I could make it through the critical forty-eight hours.

After that, everything would go back to normal.

That's what I told myself as I slung my bag over my shoulder and pushed open the dorm door.

In the teaching building, the hallways were already filling with students — laughter, chatter about some new course being added.

I didn't care. I kept my head down, tugged my collar up a little higher, and headed to class.

"Mallory, over here!"

Penny waved from the middle of the room.

Crowe was sitting in the third row, Isabella leaning against his shoulder.

My eyes didn't linger in that direction as I walked past.

I went over and told Penny quietly that I was cold today and wanted to sit in the back row.

I trusted my own tonics, but I still worried someone with a sharper nose might pick up something off about me.

Penny agreed without hesitation, got up and moved with me, no questions asked.

That was one of the reasons I liked her.

She was the only person in the Healing Division who never made fun of me, never dug for hidden meaning in my silence.

Most of the time she just walked beside me, filling the air with her endless stream of topics, and all I had to do was nod at the right moments.

Today's topic was the crisis survival course.

"Did you hear?" She leaned in, dropping her voice. "First period got switched to a new crisis survival course. The new professor is an Alpha — and he's hot. Not just any Alpha either — heir to the Alpha King level."

"Emily saw him at the training grounds this morning. Said he's half a head taller than Crowe, shoulders this wide —" Penny stretched her hands apart in an exaggerated span.

"Emily has done extensive research on the physiques of every good-looking Alpha out there." I still wasn't particularly interested.

"But this is different! He's from the Blackwood family. You know — the academy's board, our whole Pack — it's all Blackwood." Penny grabbed my arm, her expression almost reverent. "Lena said when he walked past, her wolf went restless from fifty meters away. That instinctive submission response, you know? Even Crowe never triggered that kind of pressure."

Then she immediately realized she'd said the wrong thing.

I didn't know.

I didn't have a wolf.

That instinctive, crushing submission to an Alpha's presence was nothing more than words in a textbook to me — a gap between description and real experience I'd never be able to cross.

"Mallory, I —"

Penny started to say something, but the noise in the classroom suddenly died down. She snapped her mouth shut and looked toward the door.

Then I smelled cedar.

My fingers gripped the edge of the desk.

No.

All morning I'd told myself that scent was buried under the scent-block powder, that no one would find it.

But now, as that smell filled the air, the mark on the side of my neck flared like it had been set on fire, a faint, burning sting.

It was him.

I didn't look up.

I didn't need to.

My body had already answered the moment that scent hit — racing heart, sweaty palms, stomach in knots. Every physical reaction screaming the same thing: the one who'd marked me was close.

Footsteps moved from the front of the classroom, steady and even, each one landing directly on my nerves.

"I'm Rowan Blackwood."

The voice was low, with a slight rasp.

"Starting today, I'm your crisis survival instructor."

Penny nudged me with her elbow, mouthing a silent so hot.

I bit down hard on my lip, didn't look at her, kept my eyes fixed on my white-knuckled fingers on the desk, using every bit of willpower I had to keep my breathing steady.

Don't look up. Don't look up. Don't —

But he was looking this way.

I knew it.

Just like he knew I was here.

My hands started shaking. Thousands of students. Three grades. Two teaching buildings.

And he had walked straight into my classroom and become my professor.