The Wolf actually looked startled she knew.
Idiot.
Runevald knew everything.
“You will not,” she continued sharply, “speak to any student of this Institute in such a manner again, Mr. McFadden. Do I make myself clear?”
Gunner’s jaw tightened.
“Yes, professor.”
“Good.” Her gaze slid toward me. “And you.”
I lifted one brow.
“You are not some common brute lurking in alleyways,” she said coldly. “You are a graduate student of the Asgarheim Runevald Institute, not a territorial beast fighting over scraps.”
The irony of that statement nearly made me laugh.
Because that was exactly what I was.
Territorial.
Violently so.
“She’s my?—”
“No,” Professor Kenna snapped instantly, power cracking through the room hard enough to rattle glass. “You will not finish that sentence.”
Interesting.
Very interesting.
The professor knew.
Or suspected.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“You will both begin acting with the decorum expected of advanced students within these halls,” she continued. “This is not a battlefield. Nor is it some barbaric courting ritual.”
Gunner muttered something under his breath.
Professor Kenna’s eyes flashed green.
The Wolf immediately shut his mouth.
Smart again.
“You,” she said, pointing toward him, “will issue a formal apology to Miss Cordoza before the end of the evening.”
Gunner looked horrified.
I looked delighted.
“And you, Mr. Blau?—”
I stiffened instantly at the name.
