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“That’s not what I meant,” I hissed.

He chuckled, and it thrummed through my body from where my back met his front. “But you like it. Am I wrong?”

I turned in his embrace. “What else are you so certain that I like?” I whispered.

“I feel like that question is a trap waiting to happen.”

I bit my lip to stop the laughter that tried to escape, which resulted in an unattractive snort. A smile stretched across Sylvan’s face, unhindered. It was …sweet. It was a far cry from his usual downturned lips, and even the arrogant smirk. In an instant it disappeared, and against my better judgment, I reached out. My hand cupped his cheek, fingers sliding over his short beard, thumb running along his lower lip.

He inhaled deeply before I pulled back, prepared to apologize for invading his space. But before I could move, he captured my hand and slid his thumb across the inside of my wrist. I’m certain he felt the quickening of my pulse as his lips pressed against it. My stomach swooped downward, and want throbbed between my legs.

How did he manage to always have this effect on me? “I hate you so much,” I murmured.

“I know,” he said, but he stepped closer.

I stood my ground, staring up at him while the cadence of my heart climbed. My breaths grew shallow, and it wasn’t just him standing in front of me anymore but me in his lap in the library, his hand between my legs and sonorous voice whispering to me. Be nice, Aura. Good girl. That’s it. The vivacity of the memory left me weak in the knees.

“I hate the effect you have on me.” The words slipped out.

“I could say the same,” he responded.

I started to reach out but clenched my fists and moved away. I put as much space as I could between us, marching to my desk. “You stay over there,” I said.

He had the audacity to smirk. He had the even greater audacity to follow me.

“Sylvan!”

“Professor Nygaard.” He said it with the most casual of tones that made my cheek twitch and more heat gather in my core. I leaned back against my desk as another cramp set in. Of course, the pangs left me with the intense desire to shove Sylvan down on the floor and climb atop him. I gripped my stomach and glared at him. Concern was apparent on his face, but he didn’t approach me.

Eyes pinned on each other, shared heartbeats racing as if toward a finish line … What had he said before? Pheromones activated pheromones or whatever. A call and an answer. It was all nonsensical lycan biology. Nothing to do with feelings. Everything to do with the fever rising up and threatening to consume me. Heat.

Shit.

I hated to accept it. I clenched my teeth as another cramp left me breathless.

“As far as I know, those will get worse until you do something about it,” Sylvan said, voice low.

“Fucking great.”

“Tell me what you need, Aura,” he said.

I pulled in a breath and slowly released it. The amount of effort it took to say what I thought would be simple was more infuriating than anything. But I finally gritted out the words, “I need you to leave.”

He frowned but nodded. “Alright,” he said. For a moment he just stood there, blinking as if he needed to pull himself out of a stupor, before grabbing his bag and heading for the door. “See you tomorrow?”

I nodded and dismissively waved him off.

Sweat dripped down my neck, slipping down my back and between my breasts. My skin was too sensitive, the rivulets too much. Each intake of breath made my dress feel smaller, the stays digging into my flesh. I hopped off the desk, fighting to slow my respirations, but my lungs seemed unwilling to fill. Warmth surged to my skin as I fumbled before succeeding at removing my alchemy belt.

Everything was too much and not enough. I started to tear at the neckline of my dress.

Off. I needed the damn thing off.

It was all a feverish blur as I grappled for the back of my dress. I tugged, and a button popped free, flying across the room with a small clatter. Overwhelming pressure was building below my waist, begging to be released. Could a person die from pent-up sexual tension? Because I was certain I was going to die.

They would find me keeled over my desk, cunt dripping … dead. I leaned back against the mahogany as irrational laughter broke from my lips. What a sight that would be. What would they say in the morning papers? Vampire Found Dead. Sexual Unfulfillment Suspected. Biologists Are Baffled.

I didn’t know what else I could do to stop the unbearable heat. To stop the pulsating that made me ache at my very core. I leaned back again, pulling my skirts up, disbelief churning in my mind as I shakily pressed my fingers against the bundle of nerves that screamed for my attention.