Page 2 of The Werewolf’s Study Date

"Right." I nod like that makes sense. It doesn't.

She taps the comment. "Lineage bonding, compatibility markers, dominant trait expression in packs versus solitary lines. A lot of your creature classmates grew up hearing their parents discuss bloodlines and living inside pack dynamics. You didn't. You're starting from the textbook."

"And failing with it."

"You're adjusting," she corrects gently. She grabs a flyer from a stack on the corner of her desk. "Start here."

I take it.

Peer Academic Support Program.

Free one-on-one tutoring available for all enrolled students. Sessions can be scheduled through the Student Success Office or arranged directly with your assigned tutor.

"The university pairs students in high-heritage courses with upperclassmen who've already taken the class," she says. "Usually someone with lived experience who can explain the concepts from a real-world perspective."

I scan the sheet. There's info about the library east wing, a QR code, and a pre-printed box at the bottom.

Assigned Tutor: Boone Kinkaid.

I stare at the name. "Am I supposed to know who this is?"

Professor Perkowinski's mouth twitches. "Mr. Kinkaid? You might."

"Should I?"

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

I narrow my eyes at her, but she just starts packing her briefcase.

"Thank you," I say, folding the flyer.

"Ms. Pope?" she adds before I leave.

I turn back. "Yeah?"

"Don't let one bad grade convince you that you don't belong here. You do the work. You care. Students who don't care don't come ask how to fix a forty-six."

My throat tightens. I just nod fast before I embarrass myself by crying over biology.

I walk out into the September air, pulling my jacket tighter against the breeze.

Boone Kinkaid.

I pull out my phone to look him up, then stop myself. I don’t care who he is. I don’t care if he’s on student council or runs half the campus. I just need him to fix my grade so I can keep my scholarship and stay in school.

I shove the paper into my notebook and head toward my dorm.

Who the hell is Boone Kinkaid?

CHAPTER 2

BOONE KINKAID

Coach runs us until half the guys look ready to puke on the turf.

“You’re an asshole,” Tate pants beside me as we head for the tunnel. “Coach saw you sprint that last forty without breaking a sweat. He’s going to drug test you tomorrow.”

“I’m a wolf, Tate.”