Chapter 15 – KILLIAN #2
Dude's totally thinking about penetrating our mate, isn't he? Whatever he is, he's an alpha something. And I can't even rip him apart with my teeth.
Fucking injustice.
I have to physically bite back the snarl building in my throat.
Regina takes a breath. "We need a faculty sponsor."
"Ah." A single syllable, loaded with meaning.
Douche meaning.
"The Dean's office knows I'm here without permission, and they've given Lupe Tau until Friday to secure a sponsor. We've approached every other faculty member on campus, and—"
"Yes, I'm aware." Villeneuve's lips curl. "Your pack's little tour has caused quite a stir in the faculty lounge. Professor Styles was particularly vocal about her encounter with Mr. Underwood here."
Heat rises to my face. "She ran away before I could even—"
"I was wondering when you'd finally come to me." Villeneuve cuts me off without seeming to acknowledge I'd spoken. "Given the circumstances, it was inevitable, wasn't it?"
My jaw tightens. "If you knew what we wanted, why not just say so? Save us the song and dance?"
"There's a diplomatic process to these things, Mr. Underwood."
I clench my jaw so hard it nearly cracks at how closely his words echo Regina's. I'm going to write diplomatic process on toilet paper the minute we get home and light it on fire. That has to be some form of magic.
I force myself to stay seated even though my wolf is howling for blood. Through the bond, I feel Regina's calming influence, her silent plea for patience.
Fine. I'll play along.
For now.
"Would you consider it?" Regina asks, her voice steady. "Sponsoring our pack?"
Instead of answering, Villeneuve opens a drawer in his desk and withdraws a manila folder. He sets it between us, and I recognize the Lupe Tau crest stamped on the cover.
"You have a fucking file on us?" The words come out as a snarl.
I knew it.
"A comprehensive one." Villeneuve flips it open, scanning the contents with an expression of mild distaste.
"Property damage to campus facilities totaling forty-four thousand dollars over the past three semesters.
Thirteen formal complaints from faculty members.
Seven noise violations. Three incidents involving unauthorized modifications to university infrastructure.
" He looks up. "The sprinkler system and beer was particularly creative, I will admit. "
"That was never proven," I mutter. "And I paid them back and then some."
"Some problems can't be smoothed over with money, Mr. Underwood," he says in the most sanctimonious tone imaginable. "There's also the matter of the Dean's Mercedes. The egging remains officially unsolved, but I obviously have my suspicions."
"You've been spying on us," I accuse.
Villeneuve's expression doesn't change. "It doesn't exactly take detective work to put two and two together, although I'd hardly be outside my bounds if I were.
Your pack has been watching my property for years.
Lurking in the trees, documenting my movements, attempting to investigate and determine my nature.
" He closes the folder with a soft snap. "Isn't that somewhat hypocritical?"
"He has a point, Killian," Regina says dryly, much to my annoyance. Maybe she could just not be the logical one for just one hour. Just give me one and I'd be happy.
She turns back to Villeneuve. "I understand this would be a significant responsibility," she says. "Which is why I'm prepared to offer something in return."
"Oh?" Villeneuve leans forward, interest sparking in those dark eyes. "I'm listening."
Regina straightens in her chair, all business. "You're aware of my abilities as a siphon. What I did for the coven. The services I provided."
He nods, listening.
"I'm proposing something similar. Regulated, with clear boundaries.
I can produce up to three stabilizing solutions per week, like the one I just gave you.
Additionally, I can perform energy amplification for complex spells.
And if needed, I can serve as a magical battery for rituals that require sustained output over extended periods. "
She's talking about trading her energy and abilities like commodities.
"Absolutely fucking not."
Both of them turn to look at me. Regina's expression is warning. Villeneuve's is curious.
She sighs. "Killian—"
"No." I'm on my feet before I consciously decide to move, chair scraping against the hardwood. Fuck it, I hope it's expensive. "Our mate isn't shilling her energy and magic for some… spooky fucking asshole who keeps files on people. No one is ever using you again."
"This isn't your decision," Regina reminds me.
"The hell it isn't." I turn to face her fully, letting her feel the full force of my conviction through our bond.
"You spent years being Kyle's magical vending machine.
Years having your power rationed and exploited.
I'm not letting you walk into another arrangement like that. Sure as fuck not over us."
"It's not the same—"
"It's exactly the same. You're offering to trade pieces of yourself for something we need.
That's what he did. That's what they all did.
" I look at Villeneuve, not bothering to hide my contempt.
"We'll figure something else out. Find a way to stay a pack even if I have to take on the Council itself. "
The room goes silent. Regina's frustration bleeds through our bond, hot and sharp. She thinks I'm being unreasonable. Thinks I'm letting my hatred of Villeneuve override practical necessity.
Maybe she's right.
But I don't give a fuck. Some lines don't get crossed.
No one is taking advantage of my mate. I swore that the day I first laid eyes on her, and I'll never break that promise.
"We're done here." I move toward the door, not waiting to see if Regina follows. "Thanks for nothing, professor."
"I'll do it."
The words stop me mid-stride.
I turn slowly. Villeneuve is still seated behind his desk, that infuriating calm expression firmly in place. But there's something else in his eyes now.
"You'll... do what?" Regina asks, clearly as confused as I am.
"Sponsor your pack." He says it like he's discussing the weather. "I'll serve as faculty advisor for Lupe Tau for the remainder of their probationary period."
"Just like that?" I ask suspiciously, my eyes narrowing at him. "No conditions? No demands?"
"I'm saying I don't want the services Ms. Cook is offering." Villeneuve rises from his chair, moving around the desk with that unnatural grace. "I never said I wanted nothing at all."
Here it comes.
The catch.
The trap hidden beneath the generous offer.
"What do you want?" My words come out as a growl.
Villeneuve stops in front of Regina, close enough that I have to fight every instinct not to physically insert myself between them.
"I want the opportunity to guide your abilities, Ms. Cook.
To help you understand the full scope of what you're capable of.
" He pauses, letting that sink in. "And I'd like to offer you a position as my teaching assistant in the Department of Ancient History and Occult Studies. "
Regina's shock ripples through our bond at the same time mine does.
Wait, what the fuck?
"Your teaching assistant?" she repeats, blinking.
"You have exceptional potential. Potential that was wasted in your previous coven, squandered on menial magical labor for an organization that didn't deserve you.
" Villeneuve's voice softens, taking on an almost gentle quality that makes my wolf bristle.
"I can help you develop that potential. Give you access to resources and knowledge that most practitioners never encounter.
And I seem to recall that you said it was once a goal of yours to attend graduate school, which is something I could fast track if you're my assistant.
It would give us a solid case for keeping the pack together. "
Regina opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
I can feel her disbelief through the bond.
And her excitement, which is the only thing keeping me from letting my suspicions fly loose in the form of fists all over Villeneuve's face.
He'd probably wave a hand and turn me inside out, but it'd be fucking worth it.
I can give her anything money can buy, but not this, and I fucking hate him for it.
But not enough to stand in her way.
"Why?" I grit out, choosing my words carefully, for her sake. "Why would you do any of this?"
Those dark eyes meet mine, and for just a moment, I see something beneath the mask. Something old and patient and utterly foreign that makes my blood run cold.
"Let's just say I have an interest in seeing exceptional talents properly cultivated." He turns back to Regina. "The position comes with a stipend, of course. And academic credit toward any graduate program you might wish to pursue."
"I..." Regina shakes her head, clearly struggling to process. She's always had a hard time accepting people doing nice things for her, and unlike with our pack, she has reason to be wary right now. "This is more than I expected."
"Take some time to consider the offer. But I do hope you'll think carefully about the opportunity."
My wolf is snarling inside my skull. Every instinct I possess screams that something is wrong here. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Villeneuve doesn't do charity.
Villeneuve doesn't offer help without expecting something in return.
And reading between the lines, it's clear what he's asking. Because I'm way too fucking cynical to believe he just cares so much about her academic potential. About her being his TA.
More like her T and A.
Or her magic.
Then again, she's got a hell of a lot of both.
"Thank you. We'll discuss it with the pack," Regina says finally. "And I'll get back to you."
"Of course." Villeneuve inclines his head, the picture of graciousness. "I'll have the sponsorship paperwork filed with the Dean's office by end of day. Consider it done."
Regina thanks him again, her voice steady despite the utterly bewildered confusion I can feel churning through our bond. We make our way out of his study, through his pretentious house, back into the morning air that suddenly feels colder than before.
The whole walk to the property line, I can feel his eyes on us.
Watching us.
Menacingly.
Before we walked in here, I thought this fucker had designs on our mate.
Now I'm sure of it.