Interesting.
Apparently Professor Kenna’s lecture yesterday had been memorable.
The Wolf muttered something under his breath and stormed past me toward the staircase.
Jerk.
The doors remained open behind him.
And then Sten stepped out.
My breath caught immediately.
Gods.
He looked unfair.
His dark hair fell messily around his face like he’d been dragging frustrated hands through it all afternoon.
The sleeves of his black thermal were shoved up his forearms revealing corded blue muscle dusted with faint glowing silver markings beneath the skin.
Paint and maybe dried plaster.
Probably from the repairs.
He looked tired.
Dangerous.
Beautiful.
Like some ancient cathedral gargoyle carved from moonlit marble and shadow.
Four horns curved from his head—two arching upward elegantly while the lower pair swept back tighter against his skull like a ram’s.
His glowing cerulean eyes remained lowered initially, focused on rolling his sleeves back down over powerful forearms.
Then he sensed me.
I saw it happen.
His body stilled instantly.
Slowly, Sten lifted his gaze toward mine.
And everything else disappeared.
The corridor.
The portraits.
The floating lanterns.
Gone.
It was just him and me.
Just those impossible glowing eyes and they were fixed entirely on mine.
