Chapter 22
“Are you sure we should show him this?” The bracelet on my wrist feels heavier than it did on Friday night. The weight, irritating and distracting.
I’ve spent every day since we found the i’xal researching, and I’ve come up with nothing. Yesterday, we walked around the beach with it, but the stone never glowed like Caspian said it should.
Caspian places a hand over mine to still my fidgeting. “Yes.”
A heavy sigh leaves my lips. All day, I’ve felt off, agitated and jumpy. It might be nerves about my meeting with Dr. Anderson, or the way Branson glared at me during my morning class, or just the cloudy weather, but all I want to do is retreat to my bed. Preferably with Caspian.
“Dr. Anderson hasn’t exactly been supportive—apart from that very weird confrontation on Friday.”
Caspian holds the door to the anthropology building open for me. “The cuff is a clue to Ocearus. If he’s involved in that search, he should be included in all parts of it.”
“So mature of you.” I smirk, stopping in the doorway to the archeology building long enough to kiss his nose.
“Aren’t you two cute?” At the sound of the rough voice, I turn to see Dr. Anderson’s friend walking toward us.
He looks like a surfer boy, albeit a rich one.
Brick colored shorts paired with a white shirt unbuttoned just a bit too far, shaggy hair highlighted by the sun that looks like he just came from the ocean.
There’s an intricate tattoo spreading down his upper arm that looks like some sort of fish, but it’s difficult to tell with half of it covered by his sleeve.
A wave of embarrassment washes over me as I remember how he was privy to my altercation with my parents. He even got them kicked out of the restaurant. Would it be petty of me to thank him for that?
“Newly bonded, right?” he asks.
“Yeah, um, this is Caspian.” I turn to my mate before gesturing at the interloper. “Caspian, this is Dr. Anderson’s friend…” I trail off, realizing I don’t remember his name.
“Phoenix.” He takes Caspian’s hand even though Caspian didn’t extend it and brings it to his lips in a gesture that’s pure gentlemanly showmanship.
I’m surprised that what sparks inside me at the action is very different from the expected jealousy.
My skin flushes hot, and I swear Caspian’s scent deepens, though I shouldn’t be able to scent him right now.
Without letting go, Phoenix twists Caspian’s hand to look at the sigils on his palm. “What are these?”
Caspian looks at me, clearly unsure how to respond.
His nostrils flare like he’s trying to scent Phoenix to determine if he’s trustworthy, but the older alpha must be wearing scent blockers because I can’t get a whiff of anything off him.
Caspian doesn’t seem uncomfortable, though, if anything there’s a little spike of arousal through the bond that makes me squeeze my thighs together.
“They’re just decorative,” I whisper, answering for Caspian who seems to have frozen in place.
“Hmm,” Phoenix traces a curve of the sigil with his thumb. “They’re beautiful.” His gaze jumps up to meet Caspian’s.
I should feel possessive and protective, but the heat in Phoenix’s eyes has something warm unfurling low in my belly. It’s similar to how I felt with Dr. Anderson in the restaurant bathroom. What is wrong with me?
A grin spreads across the alpha’s face, so wide dimples appear on his cheeks.
It feels almost like he can tell the effect he’s having on Caspian and me, even though there’s no way he can scent me through my blockers, and I’ve liberally sprayed my mate down in extra strength descenter.
Maybe he’s just used to the way people respond to him.
He flings his arm around Caspian’s shoulders. “Well, how about Caspian and I go get some coffee to bring back for you and Hunter, hm?” He glances at Caspian’s lips. “You look a little parched.”
His lips are really chapped. How did I not notice that? Did it just happen? A niggling worry settles at the back of my mind.
“I could not leave Madi,” Caspian says.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t be able to leave her side either.
” Phoenix gives me a flirty wink. “But we won’t be gone long.
I’d just like to get to know the couple my best friend’s obsessed with.
” With his arm over Caspian’s shoulder, he steers my mate toward the door, throwing over his shoulder, “Don’t leave Hunter waiting, Madi. ”
I’m stuck in place, staring after them, feeling stunned and confused. Dr. Anderson’s obsessed with us? He couldn’t mean that the way it sounded, right?
Attracted, maybe. But not obsessed.
My gaze drops to the firm way Phoenix’s arm muscles flex as he opens the door for Caspian.
My mate throws one last look over his shoulder, as if to ask permission.
I blink and wave him off. I’m not entirely sure what just happened, but I’ll be fine on my own for a few minutes.
They’ll be right back, and I could use something cold to drink.
“Iced coffee!” I yell just before the door closes.
The air conditioning must be broken, because my shirt is sticking to my skin, sweat pooling between my breasts. I pinch the fabric and pull it away from me to get some air.
Phoenix’s words play in my mind like a stuck record. Dr. Anderson can’t be obsessed with a student, especially not me. Then again… I think of the way he looked at me at the restaurant and my skin feels too tight and hot. Someone really needs to open a window in here.
Fanning myself, I continue down the hall.
When I reach Dr. Anderson’s office, the door is already open.
He’s sitting behind the desk, hunched over a worn, yellowed book.
He’s the picture of the ideal hot professor.
He’s wearing a tweed sport coat over a slim-fit burgundy sweater, like he just walked off the set of every nerd girl’s fantasy.
I knock on the open door, and his head snaps up. “Good, you’re here.” He stands up, circling the desk, and leaning against the front, crossing one ankle over the other. “Sit, please.” He motions toward the two chairs in front of his desk, then looks behind me.
“Caspian went to get coffee with your friend,” I say in answer to his unasked question.
“Phoenix?” Concern flashes across Dr. Anderson’s face, but it vanishes as quickly as it came. “Well, sit. We should discuss my requirements, Miss Grant.”
Guess we’re just jumping right in, then. I take the seat closest to the door and cross my legs.
“You can dig in the cove, but only under direct supervision from me.” Dr. Anderson stays standing, his large frame towering over me.
I feel almost as if I’ve been sent to the principal's office. The firm tone of his voice just adds to that feeling that I’m about to be punished.
“I don’t want you climbing the cliffs by yourself, playing the lone ranger. Do you understand, Madison?”
Usually it annoys me when people use my full name because it sounds so formal, but coming from him it feels right.
Commanding but sensual. A departure from the distance he usually keeps between us by calling me Miss Grant.
The direct way he’s speaking now sets something burning in my blood.
The intensity in his eyes has me crossing and uncrossing my legs.
“I understand.” Why is my voice so breathy? “But Dean Anderson, do you really have time to supervise an undertaking like this?”
“I’ll make time.”
Warmth spirals up my spine as our eyes lock. He looks at me like he wants to devour every part of me. And I’m ready to let him. The room still feels unbearably hot, so I unbutton my cardigan and shuck it off.
Dr. Anderson clears his throat and looks away. Pushing off his desk, he circles behind it and takes a seat. “We’ll partner on the project. Your name would come first on all the research, of course, but—”
“Wait, you want your name on this? Why?” We both know how investigating something as obscure as Ocearus can make or break a career.
If it turns out I’m wrong, he’ll be laughed at and ridiculed by his colleagues.
His position at the University could even be called into question.
“Why not just let me quietly do my research? There’s no need for you to risk your name too. ”
Dr. Anderson doesn’t answer right away. He spins his chair away from me, looking at the wall of books behind his desk. “Did you know your aunt was the lead on my first expedition?”
I shake my head, then realize he can’t see me. “I didn’t.”
He spins back around, resting his interlaced fingers on his desk. “I wish I’d stood up for her more. She was a brilliant woman.”
“Is that what this is about?” Did Dr. Anderson have a crush on my aunt?
He’s taught here for years, so he would have been teaching here when Aunt April was a professor.
They wouldn’t have been that different in age.
Less than the age difference between us.
Was he on her last dig with her? Maybe he feels guilty?
“No.” He shakes his head, a small smile toying at his lips as if he knows what I’m thinking and is amused by it. “This is about you. And me. Us.”
Us. He can’t mean that the way it seems. There is no us. He’s so out of my league. He’s got his act together, his life figured out—he’s the dean of the department!—and I’m… well, I’m me. A hot mess, trying to find a city most people don’t believe in, newly bonded to a man I only just met.
But there’s no mistaking the tension in the air. My mouth feels dry, clothes uncomfortably itchy. I need to defuse this energy somehow. “Um… here.” I gently set the bracelet on the desk and stand up, pacing a few steps away to the window. “Does this open?”
Dr. Anderson looks up from the bracelet. “No. They seal all the windows.”
Figures. Pulling at my shirt, I use it to fan myself, while Dr. Anderson picks up the bracelet.
“It opens,” I say. He gives me a curious look, maybe thinking I’m still talking about the window, so I point to the bracelet, hand shaking a little.
He turns it over, but there’s not an obvious latch, and I realize he’s gonna need help.
I cross back to the desk, this time standing next to him, so I can show him how it works.
I dig my nail between the two grooves, and there’s a distinct click as the mechanism gives way and the two parts of the bracelet separate, revealing the relic inside.
“Incredible,” Dr. Anderson leans closer, his shoulder brushing against my arm. “Where did you find this?”
“Aunt April gave it to me. I only just figured out it opened this weekend.” I lean closer and pull out the stone, twisting it one way then the other. We’re almost cheek-to-cheek, hunched over to look at the runes etched into the surface.
“These are directional symbols.” Dr. Anderson points at each one. “North. South. East. West.” Of course, he recognizes them. The man is brilliant.
I nod my agreement. “We’re not sure how to use it, but we think it’s some sort of compass. When Caspian–” I cut off my words just in time. I can’t explain to him how Caspian knows what this is and how it works. “Uh, Caspian has also studied Ocearus and made an educated guess based on the symbols.”
He turns his head to look at me. Our faces are so close I can feel his breath on my lips.
My heartbeat is loud enough to drown out any other sound.
My skin feels clammy and warm. A whimper I can’t control slips from my lips, and a sudden stab of pain twists low in my gut. I crumble, curling in on myself.
The alpha says something, but the words blend together.
The gentle depth of his voice is soothing, though, and I move toward it like a flower to the sun, sinking to the floor by the desk and instinctively resting my cheek on his knee.
There’s some reason I shouldn’t be doing this, touching him like this, but I can’t think of it now.
His big hand comes to rest on top of my head, the pressure calming me enough to focus on his words.
“What’s Caspian’s phone number, sweetheart?”
I shake my head. The mention of my mate has my insides spasming and twisting in a painful knot. Where is he? I need him.
“Okay… okay… shhh. I’ll call Phoenix, okay? Breathe, baby, sweetheart. You just have to wait a little bit. It won’t be long. You’re gonna be fine.” The tension in his voice says something different though, and the heat in my belly demands to be dealt with now. Not later.
“P-please, Dr. Anderson.” I barely manage to get the words out.
His hand on my head clenches into a fist, tugging on my hair. The muscles in his jaw tense, and I can actually hear his teeth grinding. He doesn’t say anything in response to my plea.
“It’s o-okay…” I murmur, something in my heart breaking at his rejection. “I c-can w-w-wait.”
He stares at me for a long minute, his hold on my hair getting tighter and tighter, making my scalp tingle and sting.
Slick drenches my thighs. The air crackles around us like an electric storm, and yet everything is perfectly still.
I’m not sure either of us are breathing.
His nostrils flare, eyes as dark as night.
“Fuck it.” He grabs me under the arms and lifts me onto his desk in one smooth motion, standing as he does and seizing my lips with his.
He grips my thighs hard enough to bruise.
His kiss isn’t gentle or slow. He consumes me, the poised professor nowhere to be seen.
It’s like something snapped inside him, and I want to push him to lose control completely.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he mutters against my lips, breathing hard.
“Don’t stop,” I beg.
“Never.”
And then he’s kissing every thought out of my mind except one. It’s not enough. I need more.