Page 84 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

The students oohed like children at a magic show. And fuck if he didn’t understand the impulse. There was something magical about the way she made it all seem so simple. So beautiful.

Light bending. Colors separating. The invisible made visible.

A light witch, teaching about light. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

She’d lost so much of her magic. Piece by piece, stripped away by a curse she hadn’t earned. And yet here she was, still finding ways to illuminate the world. Still shining, even when her power had been dimmed.

His chest ached with the need to fix it. To find that bloody knife and break her curse and give her back everything she’d lost.

Soon. They’d go back to the cave soon. And this time, he would fight even harder. He would not let his demons stop them.

“All right,” Rebecca said, capping her marker and checking the clock. “That’s all we have time for today. Don’t forget—problem set due Friday. And start reviewing chapters twelve and thirteen. We’ll be moving into interference and diffraction next week.”

Students began gathering their things, the rustle of bags and murmured conversations filling the hall. Axel stayed in his seat, watching as a few lingered near the front.

The boy who’d asked about reflection was among them.

“Professor Miller?” The pup approached her with a shy smile that made Axel want to bare his teeth. “I was wondering if you had office hours this week? I could really use some extra help.”

Rebecca’s expression remained friendly, professional. “My office is actually unavailable this week—maintenance issue. But you can email me questions, and I’ll be holding a review session before the exam.”

“Oh.” The boy’s face fell. “Well, maybe we could meet somewhere else? Like the coffee shop on Main Street?”

This time, the growl that escaped Axel’s chest was loud enough to echo.

Every remaining head in the room turned toward him.

Rebecca’s eyes went wide. The boy paled, finally seeming to notice the massive, scarred man in the back row who looked ready to commit murder.

“That won’t be necessary,” Axel said, rising to his full height. He descended the stairs slowly, deliberately, never breaking eye contact with the pup. “Professor Miller has other commitments.”

“I—yes—of course.” The boy grabbed his bag and practically fled.

The remaining students scattered like startled deer, rushing for the exits.

Rebecca watched them go, then turned to him with her arms crossed. “Was that really necessary?”

“Aye.” He stopped in front of her, close enough to catch her scent. One he’d grown to adore. Chamomile and honey, slightly sharpened with exasperation. “It was.”

“He’s a student, Axel. He was asking about office hours.”

“He was asking you on a date.”

“He was not—“ She stopped, brow furrowing. “Was he?”

“Aye. Pretty sure he was.”

She blinked, then let out a startled laugh. “Oh. I didn’t... I thought he was just struggling with the material.”

“The only thing he’s struggling with is keeping his eyes above your neckline.”

The flush that crept up her cheeks was deeply satisfying. She swatted his arm. “You can’t just growl at my students.”

“I can if they’re sniffing around what’s mine.”

The words came out before he could stop them. Raw. Possessive. Absolutely true.

Rebecca’s breath caught. Then her eyes narrowed, that stubborn tilt returning to her chin. “Yours? I thought there were conditions on this. On us.”