Chapter 5 Five
KAZIEL
Breathe. Breathe, bastard.
I should act like I’m surprised to see her. But why?
I'd planned this moment for weeks. Every detail was perfectly arranged to make it inevitable.
Is it just me or did she get prettier and thicker?
Her glasses are perched on her nose, a maroon dress hugging her curves. Her pitch-black hair is up in a high bun, her sexy wispy bangs falling over her forehead. She looks innocent, yet deadly.
And I want her.
The taller girl who had accompanied her in flashes me a smile. "Forgive us, sir! We will do better next time," she says.
Sir? I almost laugh. If only she knew the half of the thoughts clawing through my skull.
I don't even glance at her. My eyes are locked on Danika, on her flushed cheeks and her trembling fingers clinging to her bag strap. She wouldn't meet my gaze for long. She can't.
"Get seated," I practically growl, and they quickly scurry to their seats. It takes quite the effort to not groan as Danika's vanilla scent washes over me all the way from where she is.
Patience is a cruel game, and I've already lost too many rounds with her.
She sits three rows back, pretending to take notes, her lashes lowered as if that would hide the flush on her cheeks.
And every time her pen slips, I know she's being affected by the sight of me.
My dove can't mask the way her thighs press together under that maroon dress. She thinks she's being subtle. She isn’t.
I prowl the front of the room, my voice steady as I go over today's material, my gaze lingering on her.
Her lips part, her lip gloss catching the light, and I imagine them wrapped around me.
My cock strains against the confines of my slacks, but I force my tone to stay professional. No one can suspect.
"Miss Randall." My voice cuts through the silence, and her head snaps up, her hazel eyes wide.
I adore that startled look. She’s like a prey caught under a predator's gaze. "You'll see me in my office after class.”
A murmur ripples through the students, but I don't explain myself. I don't have to.
She's mine to summon.
Her lips tremble, forming a barely-there "yes, sir." My chest tightens at the sound, and I have to force myself to breathe.
The rest of the lecture is a blur. I can hardly see the whiteboard thanks to the images in my head—Danika bent over my desk, her glasses slipping down her nose as I fist her hair, her soft gasps muffled by my hand over her mouth when she moans too loud.
When the class ends, I dismiss them briskly, not sparing a single look at anyone until I get to my office.
My office smells faintly of leather and cedar. It is a deliberate choice.
It grounds me and grants me the illusion of control even when the hunger claws under my skin.
I sit behind the polished oak desk, pretending to review lecture notes.
In reality, I can't focus on a damn thing except the promise of her walking in, shutting the door behind her, and becoming mine.
The shrill buzz of my phone shatters the fantasy. Aaron.
I swipe the screen. "Speak."
"Alpha," my Beta's voice is low and laced with tension. "Tell me... have you found her yet? The vessel?"
My jaw tightens.
Aaron continues, "The seer swore the one who can break our curse is there. At that university. If you've seen her—"
I cut him off, my voice a growl. "I know what the seer said." My eyes dart to the closed blinds of my office window, my jaw tightening. "I'm here for more than one reason, Aaron. And I'll find her. No matter what."
My beta knows better than to question me when my voice drops to that register. "Yes, Alpha. The pack is restless. Time is running out."
"Then keep them in line," I snap before ending the call.
The silence that follows presses heavily against my chest.
The seer's words still echo in my skull. 'The vessel walks among mortals. The one who can break the chain of blood lies where knowledge is sought.'
She'd been too vague at first. But when I threatened her, her tongue loosened instantly.
Violence always works.
If I'd found her earlier, perhaps I could have broken the curse before now.
Before I can sink too deep into thought, a loud knock rattles the door.
Finally.
I rise to my feet, expecting my mate.
But when I open the door, the hallway is empty. A cold draft curls in around my ankles.
My gaze drops to the note lying on the ground.
The edges are singed black as if it had been touched by fire.
I bend, picking it up slowly.
The words scrawled across it in dark, jagged ink instantly punch the breath from my lungs:
'You don’t deserve happiness. Not after what you did to Vanya. You deserve to die.’
My chest constricts so tightly I almost rip the paper in half. Vanya. Her name still cuts deeper than any blade. My first mate. My failure.
Her blood is on my hands. Her death, a wound I've buried beneath rage and obsession, has now been torn open anew.
I close my fist around the note, crumpling it as a growl rumbles low in my throat.
Enemies stalk me. The past haunts me. The curse weighs on me.
But nothing... absolutely nothing, would take Danika from me.
My chest heaves and my vision tunnels as a desperate urge to make sure Danika is within my perimeter hits me.
My skin itches, the beast snarling under my skin. Breathing hard, I shut the door and retreat into my office, tossing the crumpled note into the bin.
Running a hand over my face, I try to steady my breathing. Then I grab my phone to text Danika. She’s a hundred percent unaware that I have her number. But that doesn’t matter.
'Where are you?' My fingers shake as I type and send, the screen blurring in and out of focus.
A second knock rattles the door suddenly. My chest tightens, my heart rate spiking. Danika?
I pull the door open, my shoulders tense.
It isn't Danika.
A girl stands there, her strawberry-blonde hair catching the light, a bright smile plastered across her face.
She is holding a packet of chips in one hand and a bottle of soda in the other, as though she's just wandered in from some casual stroll.
"Hi," she chirps. "Sorry if I startled you. I thought I'd, you know... bring some snacks. Figured it's a good way to get familiar with my professors."
I stare at her. She has a smile that is too wide to be natural.
She doesn't seem to notice my silence. "I'm Eve."
Eve.
Sounds strangely familiar.
Her dimples flash as she tilts her head, watching me with eyes too sharp for such a bubbly demeanor.
"Anyway, I don't want to disturb you. Enjoy the snacks." She sets them on the edge of the desk with a little wave and breezes out, leaving only the faint scent of her perfume behind.
I stand rooted in place long after the door clicks shut.
What the hell was that?
She'd come out of nowhere with no hesitation or fear.
My gaze slides back to the crumpled note in the bin.
Is Eve the hand behind the message?
A sharp pain suddenly shoots through my wrist.
I glance down and freeze.
The red bracelet glows faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat.
The seer's words hit me all over again.
My chest rises and falls hard, my vision narrowing on the still-fading glow.
It can't be a coincidence.
Eve.
The girl who had smiled too brightly. The girl who seemed too at ease.
Did I just meet the vessel?
There is a knock on the door right then, and a smile curls my lips when I perceive a familiar vanilla scent.
"Come in," I say, and the door creaks open. And there she is.
My goddess.
She walks in slowly.
"Lock the door, Danika," I tell her, and she sucks in a sharp breath, sliding the lock in.
Fuck. Her scent is everywhere.
The things I want to do to her... filthy, dangerous things that would stain her innocence.
‘No. Stop. This isn't right. She deserves better,’ I protest internally.
But when she finally stops in front of me, my chest constricts. The thought of letting her go is unbearable.
"Are you alright...sir?" She's clearly unsure if she should call me by my name.
"No, I'm not, sweet thing," I respond hoarsely, reaching out to cup her cheek with a trembling hand.
She searches my gaze with a worried look on her face.
"You're sweating."
I swallow hard. "You have no idea, dove," I say, my gaze colliding with hers. "How much I want to ruin you."
Her heart races. I hear it hammering so fast it almost matches my own. Her pupils are blown wide, her lips trembling. She's terrified, aroused, and unsure.
Yet, she blurts out a response I never thought I would hear.
"Do it."