Chapter 69 Patrick
I can feel the tension humming through Lottie, carried straight into me through her grip on my hand. It’s tight—tighter than before—not painful, but charged. Protective. Controlled only by effort.
I straighten in my seat, drawing in a steadying breath before I speak.
“My former professor would have no problem coming here to verify our conversation,” I say, my voice firm despite the nerves twisting in my chest. “We discussed fated mates months ago. She can confirm that.”
Dean Louis tilts his head slightly, studying me.
“If that’s the case,” he says slowly, “why did you not inform the administration when you realized your fated mate was a student?”
Something in me snaps—not out of anger, but frustration.
“Because we fought it,” I reply, my voice rising just enough to betray my exasperation. It feels like he hasn’t heard a word Lottie said. “We did everything we could to avoid this. To not get involved. Because I was her professor.”
His expression doesn’t change.
“Then how did you end up together anyway?”
I exhale sharply through my nose.
“Because fate doesn’t leave it up to you forever,” I answer. “There’s a deadline. If you don’t accept the bond by then… it takes the choice away.”
A flicker of interest passes through his gaze.
“How so?”
I hesitate, heat creeping up my neck as I glance briefly at Lottie out of the corner of my eye.
“…By triggering biological responses,” I say carefully. “The alpha is driven into rut and compelled to seek out their omega. That, in turn, sends the omega into heat. At that point… the bond is completed whether you intend it or not.”
Dean Louis arches a brow.
“And yet you speak as though you’re describing a case study,” he says dryly, “not your own experience.”
My face burns hotter.
“B-Because it’s personal,” I stammer slightly before regaining my footing. “I’d rather not discuss those kinds of intimate details in front of people I’ve just met.”
There’s a brief pause before Miss Bundt clears her throat.
“That’s entirely understandable, Professor Hale,” she says, her tone far more measured. “You won’t be required to elaborate further.”
Her gaze shifts pointedly toward Dean Louis before returning to us.
“I believe the next logical step would be to have your former professor come in to corroborate your claims.”
Dean Louis nods once, then begins, “Charlotte will be removed from your class immediately—”
“No.”
The word leaves me before I can stop it.
The room stills.
I inhale quickly, forcing myself to steady.
“I apologize,” I add, more controlled now. “But I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
He narrows his eyes slightly. “And why is that?”
“Because she’s only a couple of weeks away from completing the course,” I explain, leaning forward just slightly. “If she’s pulled now, she’ll lose credits she’s already earned. It’s too late in the semester for her to enroll in another class and still pass. It would set her back unnecessarily.”
They exchange looks again, murmuring quietly among themselves.
For a moment, no one speaks.
Then Dean Louis turns back toward us.
“You raise a fair point. However—”
“Dean, with all due respect.”
Lottie’s voice cuts in smoothly, firm without being aggressive.
They all turn to her.
“We’ve been managing this situation for months,” she continues. “The only reason you’re aware of it now is because a classmate—someone with a personal interest in me—took a photo and brought it to your attention.”
Her tone sharpens just slightly.
“And the only reason she had that opportunity was because we had just decided to stop fighting the bond and try to make things work. Which should tell you how recent this actually is.”
She straightens subtly.
“We are more than capable of maintaining professional boundaries while navigating a personal relationship. We’ve already been doing so.”
Silence follows.
Longer this time.
Heavier.
Dean Louis studies us both carefully before finally leaning back in his chair.
Then, slowly—
He nods.
“Fine,” he says.
Relief hits me so suddenly I almost don’t process the rest.
“We’ll allow it,” he continues. “Under one condition.”
My grip tightens on Lottie’s hand.
“Your former professor must come here and verify your claims within two weeks,” he says. “If she does not—”
His gaze sharpens.
“Both of you will face disciplinary action.”
The weight of it settles over the room.
But even so—
For the first time since we walked in—
It feels like we’ve won something.
As we step out of the room, the tension that had been coiled tight in my chest finally snaps loose.
For a moment, I just stand there in the hallway, blinking—like I need to reorient myself to the fact that it’s over.
We made it through.
Not unscathed.
Not finished.
But… we made it through.
A breath escapes me, shaky at first, then steadier as relief floods in behind it.
I turn to Lottie, and before I can stop myself, I’m smiling—wide, bright, completely unrestrained.
“We did it,” I say, the words coming out almost like a laugh.
She smiles back just as brightly, her eyes lighting up in a way that makes something in my chest tighten for an entirely different reason.
They sparkle.
Actually sparkle.
And for a second—
I forget everything else.
The meeting.
The consequences.
The pressure that still looms over us.
All of it fades as I just… look at her.
Really look at her.
The way her expression softens when she’s happy. The way her lips curve, the warmth in her gaze—like she’s looking at something she values.
Like she’s looking at me.
I don’t realize how long I’ve been staring until she flicks my nose lightly.
The small, unexpected contact jolts me back to reality.
“Oh—!” I blink, flushing slightly. “Sorry. Was I staring?”
Her smile shifts into something softer, a little more amused.
“You were,” she says, unbothered. “But I’ll allow it.”
Before I can respond, she lifts our joined hands—still clasped together like they’ve been this entire time—and brings them toward her mouth.
My breath catches.
Her lips press gently against my knuckles.
And instantly—
That current surges.
It’s been there the whole time, humming beneath the surface like a live wire—every brush of skin, every shift of her fingers sending subtle sparks through me.
But this—
This is different.
Sharper.
Stronger.
Like static snapping into place.
A visible, tangible jolt shoots through my hand, and I flinch, nearly pulling away on instinct.
She tightens her hold before I can.
“Careful,” she murmurs, her voice low.
Her thumb brushes lightly over my skin as if to soothe the reaction.
“We should be used to this by now.”
I swallow, still feeling the echo of that spark ripple up my arm.
“There’s no getting around how… electrical it is,” she continues. “Even brushing against you feels like touching a live current.”
Her grip softens slightly—but she doesn’t let go.
“Holding your hand like this?” she adds quietly. “It feels like I’m holding onto a low-voltage wire.”
There’s a faint smile in her voice.
“But I didn’t want to let go.”
Her words settle into me, warm and heavy all at once.
“I don’t ever want to.”
I lift my gaze to meet hers—
And the intensity there stops me cold.
She’s looking at me like I’m something precious.
Something she’s claimed.
Something she’s choosing.
There’s hunger in it.
Not just physical—but something deeper. Stronger. More consuming.
It sends a shiver racing down my spine.
My breath catches again, softer this time, as I realize—
She’s not holding back anymore.
And I don’t think I want her to.