Page 78 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

Sure, I wasn’t ready to jump into a long term relationship. Not after Ambrose had scarred me. Not when I had an uncertain future and a curse to break.

But that didn’t mean this thing between us wasn’t worth exploring. It sure as hell didn’t mean I was going to let him decide for me.

He’d already made that choice once—hiding the cave because he wanted me close. Now he was trying to push me away because he thought he knew what was best for me. That being with him was a liability.

I took another sip of wine, a plan forming.

As soon as he was ready, we’d go back to that cave. Together. I’d help him face his demons while I hunted for mine. And afterward? Well… We’d figure it out. One day at a time, just like I’d told him.

But first—I was going to feed this infuriating, self-sacrificing wolf the best damn dinner he’d ever tasted.

21

Monday morning blindsided me, as it always did.

I couldn’t resist one more look at Axel as I walked across RCC’s quad. He sat in his truck, watching me. I gave him a final wave, disappearing from his field of view.

Our weekend together had passed in a blur. Saturday night, Axel had praised my culinary skills, devouring the herb crusted trout and pasta primavera I’d made for dinner. Then he promptly carried me back to bed, eating me for dessert. I’d enjoyed no fewer than four more orgasms before demanding we go to sleep.

He still hadn’t let me touch him, which was starting to irk me.

Sunday, emotions were running high. He’d insisted we go back to the cave. I was reluctant after his previous reaction, but agreed. Mostly, because I trusted him to know his limits. We lasted forty minutes before I saw the signs of another break down. Panicking once more, I demanded we turn back. He’d done better than the first time. But this wasn’t something I would push. Healing wasn’t linear, and I wasn’t going to force it.

What I would do was support him.

I was determined to help him battle his darkness—help him beat it. If that meant we took things slow, then that’s what we would do. Baby steps.

Perhaps our next trip down might get us closer to the knife. Eventually, we’d get it. I knew Axel was stubborn. That he wouldn’t stop trying until my curse was broken.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door into the science and mathematics building. I needed to drop by my office before my first lecture to grab a stack of assignments. The offices were on the second floor, so I climbed the stairs, emerging into the corridor.

“Morning, Professor Najjar.” I waved to Idris in the hallway on the way to my office. He looked put together as always, carrying his briefcase.

“Doctor Miller. Good morning. Classes going all right?”

“Great, actually.” I pulled my keys from my pocket, then frowned down at my office door. “What…?”

“Everything all right…?” He stepped up beside me. “Huh. Looks like your lock has been tampered with.”

A shiver raced down my spine. “Do you think someone broke in? A student maybe?”

“It’s possible. Here, may I?” He motioned to the door. I nodded, feeling a little dumbstruck. And a lot confused.

He turned the knob. It was unlocked. He pushed the door open. I sucked in a breath.

My entire office was trashed. “Oh, my God!”

My hand flew to my mouth as my eyes darted over the scene.

Papers were strewn across every surface—assignments I’d been grading, lesson plans, handouts for upcoming lectures. My filing cabinet stood open, folders pulled out and contents dumped on the floor like someone had rifled through them in a frenzy. The small potted succulent I’d kept on the windowsill lay shattered on the ground, dirt scattered across the floor.

My desk chair was overturned. The corkboard on the wall had been torn down, the pins that had held my semester calendar and important reminders scattered everywhere. Even my whiteboard had angry red marker scrawled across it in jagged, violent strokes—though I couldn’t make out what it said from the doorway.

But it was the photos that made my stomach drop. The framed picture of me with Vera and Robbie from last Christmas—the glass was cracked, spiderwebbing across our smiling faces. And the candid shot of Basil and Sage that I’d printed and stuck to my bulletin board had been torn in half.

“Oh, dear,” Idris breathed beside me. “This is... Professor Miller, I think we need to call campus security. Don’t go in there—it could be a crime scene.”

But I was already stepping forward, my eyes fixed on the white board, the angry red letters.