Page 40 of Big Bad Academy


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“Did he ever remarry?”

“He married Maxwell a few years ago,” she says. “Everyone was happy for him, according to my mom. I was too young to really remember or pay attention.”

“He’s lucky. A lot of people don’t even find true love once in a lifetime,” I tell her.

“Yeah, and he found it twice. I hope that when I find my mate, we’re as happy as they are.”

“Erin,” I ask carefully as we make our way toward the study hall room. “Do you have dreams about your mate?”

“All the time,” Erin smiles. “And I don’t know what she looks like, but I know that she’s brave and strong and funny. At least, I always laugh a lot in my dreams, so she must be, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, here we are,” Erin gestures toward a big oak door. Like the other doors in the academy, this one is solid wood and doesn’t have any windows or ways to peer inside. I have no idea what’s waiting for me on the other side of the door, but I take a deep breath and nod.

I can do this.

I’ve totally got this.

“Thanks for everything,” I tell her.

“No problem. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

Erin turns to head to her next class, and I push the door open. I walk inside to find a single large table that fills almost the entire room. There are several comfortable-looking chairs pushed around it. The walls of the room are lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and my little writer heart starts to race.

Seriously, what is this place?

It looks amazing, and I want to find out everything there is to know about it.

“Hello,” a deep voice says from one corner. I turn to see a man in a suit sitting primly in an oversized armchair.

“Uh, hi,” I give a little wave. “I’m Heather. I’m here for, uh, study hall.”

“The new girl, I presume.” The man stands and approaches me. He’s taller than Flynn, even, which is saying something because Flynn is pretty tall. I think this man is older, too, but it’s hard to tell with the shifters exactly how old they are. Everyone I’ve met so far seems undeniably beautiful. They’re almost too perfect.

He shakes my hand.

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m about as new as they come.”

“What brings you to Greystone Academy? Have you developed an interest in shifter history?” He eyes me suspiciously, and I totally understand one. I might not like it, but I understand it. He’s part of a pack that could be hunted at anytime. Maybe it’s being hunted right now. Is that why people have been stealing shifters away?

I have no idea.

What I do know is that I have to be on my best behavior.

Flynn thinks I’m his mate, so he’s being kind to me. These other wolves? They don’t know anything about me. For all they know, I could be a quiet threat, so I need to appear to be as docile as possible. When I write about wolf shifters, in my books, my characters always seem to be so put-together and strong. They always know just what to say, but right now, I don’t feel any of that.

“Uh, something like that,” I say.

What am I supposed to say?

Am I supposed to beg for help?

Tell him that Flynn kidnapped me?

No, thank you.

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