Chapter 21
Monday morning blindsided me, as it always did.
I couldn’t resist one more look at Axel as I walked across RCC’s quad. He sat in his truck, watching me. I gave him a final wave, disappearing from his field of view.
Our weekend together had passed in a blur.
Saturday night, Axel had praised my culinary skills, devouring the herb crusted trout and pasta primavera I’d made for dinner.
Then he promptly carried me back to bed, eating me for dessert.
I’d enjoyed no fewer than four more orgasms before demanding we go to sleep.
He still hadn’t let me touch him, which was starting to irk me.
Sunday, emotions were running high. He’d insisted we go back to the cave.
I was reluctant after his previous reaction, but agreed.
Mostly, because I trusted him to know his limits.
We lasted forty minutes before I saw the signs of another break down.
Panicking once more, I demanded we turn back.
He’d done better than the first time. But this wasn’t something I would push.
Healing wasn’t linear, and I wasn’t going to force it.
What I would do was support him.
I was determined to help him battle his darkness—help him beat it. If that meant we took things slow, then that’s what we would do. Baby steps.
Perhaps our next trip down might get us closer to the knife. Eventually, we’d get it. I knew Axel was stubborn. That he wouldn’t stop trying until my curse was broken.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door into the science and mathematics building. I needed to drop by my office before my first lecture to grab a stack of assignments. The offices were on the second floor, so I climbed the stairs, emerging into the corridor.
“Morning, Professor Najjar.” I waved to Idris in the hallway on the way to my office. He looked put together as always, carrying his briefcase.
“Doctor Miller. Good morning. Classes going all right?”
“Great, actually.” I pulled my keys from my pocket, then frowned down at my office door. “What…?”
“Everything all right…?” He stepped up beside me. “Huh. Looks like your lock has been tampered with.”
A shiver raced down my spine. “Do you think someone broke in? A student maybe?”
“It’s possible. Here, may I?” He motioned to the door. I nodded, feeling a little dumbstruck. And a lot confused.
He turned the knob. It was unlocked. He pushed the door open. I sucked in a breath.
My entire office was trashed. “Oh, my God!”
My hand flew to my mouth as my eyes darted over the scene.
Papers were strewn across every surface—assignments I’d been grading, lesson plans, handouts for upcoming lectures.
My filing cabinet stood open, folders pulled out and contents dumped on the floor like someone had rifled through them in a frenzy.
The small potted succulent I’d kept on the windowsill lay shattered on the ground, dirt scattered across the floor.
My desk chair was overturned. The corkboard on the wall had been torn down, the pins that had held my semester calendar and important reminders scattered everywhere.
Even my whiteboard had angry red marker scrawled across it in jagged, violent strokes—though I couldn’t make out what it said from the doorway.
But it was the photos that made my stomach drop. The framed picture of me with Vera and Robbie from last Christmas—the glass was cracked, spiderwebbing across our smiling faces. And the candid shot of Basil and Sage that I’d printed and stuck to my bulletin board had been torn in half.
“Oh, dear,” Idris breathed beside me. “This is... Professor Miller, I think we need to call campus security. Don’t go in there—it could be a crime scene.”
But I was already stepping forward, my eyes fixed on the white board, the angry red letters.
You don’t get to have him.
Cold dread pooled in my stomach, spreading outward until my skin went clammy. I was vaguely aware of Idris’s voice in the background. His words a low murmur as he phoned RCC’s campus security. But I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene.
My breath turned shallow, each inhale sharp and insufficient. The letters were blocky and angry.
Ambrose had been here. In my office. In the space I’d carved out for myself. The professional life I’d built that was supposed to be separate from all of this. He’d touched my things, torn through my papers, destroyed my photos of Basil and Sage—of my siblings.
First the photos in my bedroom. Now this? The violation made bile rise in my throat.
Anger sparked beneath the fear, hot and defiant. How dare he?! This was my place of employment! A professional setting. Whatever personal issues he had—how dare he bring them into my work life?
But even as the fury flared, that old familiar helplessness crept in—the same suffocating vulnerability I’d felt when he’d shoved me against the wall at the gala. I’d run across the country. Changed my number. Hidden away in a small mountain town.
In the end, none of that had mattered. He’d found me. And he was watching.
“Campus security is on its way. They said not to touch anything.”
I felt sick to my stomach.
“Is there anything I can do? You have a lecture this morning?”
My brain was a mess of scattered thoughts. I’d forgotten that class started in a few minutes. But how was I supposed to teach this morning?
“At... Yes. At nine.”
“What room? I’ll head over there for you as soon as security gets here and let them know class is canceled.”
I gave him the details.
“Good. Now, what else? Do you want to sit down? Can I get you something to drink? What do you need?”
He was so kind, this older gentleman. Some of his calm rubbed off on me, allowing me to think straight. “I need… I need to call someone.”
“Of course. Why don’t you step out of the room? We can wait in the corridor.”
‘Thank you. Yes.”
My phone was out of my pocket and at my ear a few breaths later. Axel picked up on the first ring. “Rebecca.” He sounded surprised, possibly confused.
“Axel? There’s been… Something happened—”
“Where are you?” His tone instantly changed, turning sharp and concerned.
“I… My office. Someone broke in. Campus security is on its way.”
“You are safe?”
“I… I think so.” I glanced around, half expecting Ambrose to dart out of the shadows. I was never more grateful for Idris Najjar’s presence than I was now.
“Where are you? The science and mathematics building?”
“Y-yes. Upstairs. The faculty offices.”
“I’ve already turned around. I’ll be there in two minutes.” I could hear his truck’s engine revving in the background. “Don’t go anywhere until I get there. Understand?”
“Okay…”
“Becca?”
“Yes?” I could feel my eyes flooding with tears. Frustration. Anger. Fear.
“Everything’s going to be all right, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Okay.” The word was barely a whisper. The line went dead and I tucked my phone away.
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly desperate for the safety of Axel’s cabin. For the warmth of his arms and the protection of his magical ward. For the one place Ambrose couldn’t reach me.
“Ah, here they are,” Idris said as two campus security officers emerged at the end of the hall dressed in full uniform. I expelled a breath.
The two officers introduced themselves—Officer Reyes and Officer Drummond. Reyes was a shorter woman with kind eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor. Drummond was a younger Black man, fresh-faced, already pulling out a notepad.
“Professor Miller?” Reyes asked. I nodded. “Can you tell us what happened?”
I explained everything. Arriving to find my lock tampered with, Idris opening the door, the state of my office. My voice sounded distant to my own ears, like I was reciting facts about someone else’s life.
“Did you touch anything inside?”
“No. I stepped in a few feet, but I didn’t touch anything.”
Reyes nodded approvingly. “Good. We’re going to need to call the Redding Sheriff’s Department. This is beyond a campus matter—breaking and entering, vandalism, and that message on the whiteboard suggests targeted harassment.” She exchanged a look with Drummond. “Possibly stalking.”
The words hit me like a slap. Harassment. Stalking. Because that’s exactly what Ambrose was doing.
“Do you have any idea who might have done this?” Drummond asked, his pen poised.
Before I could answer, heavy footsteps thundered up the stairwell.
Axel appeared at the end of the corridor, his expression murderous.
He covered the distance in seconds, immediately positioning himself at my side, one hand settling on my lower back.
The feel of his touch immediately released the tension I held.
“Are you hurt?” His voice was low, rough.
“No. I… I’m okay. Just a little shaken.”
His jaw tightened as he took in the destruction through my open office door. A low growl rumbled in his chest—quiet enough that the officers might have missed it, but I felt it vibrate between us.
“Sir, and you are?” Reyes asked, her posture shifting slightly.
“Axel.” He didn’t offer a last name. “I’m with her.”
“He’s my—“ I hesitated, unsure what word to use. “He’s with me,” I finished lamely.
Idris cleared his throat. “If you don’t need me any longer, I should go inform Professor Miller’s students that her morning lecture is canceled.”
“Of course. Thank you, Professor Najjar,” Reyes said. “We have your contact information if we need a statement.”
Idris gave my arm a gentle squeeze before heading down the corridor. I mouthed a silent thank you as he disappeared around the corner.
“Now,” Drummond continued, “you were about to tell us if you knew who might be responsible?”
“It was Ambrose Blackthorn.” Axel’s voice cut in before I could speak. “Her ex, bloody bastard. He’s been harassing her for weeks. He—“ He stopped himself, jaw clenching. “He’s been following her. Sending threatening messages…”
Reyes’s eyebrows rose. “Is this true, Professor Miller?”
“Yes.” I swallowed hard. “Ambrose and I... We were involved. I ended things and moved here to get away from him.” It wasn’t exactly the truth.
But close enough. If this was how Ambrose wanted to play, I’d get the local authorities involved.
Eventually, it would get back to him, and I knew how he was about maintaining public appearances.
He wouldn’t want any stains on his family’s pristine record.
I cleared my throat. “He didn’t take it well. He’s sent me texts from random cell numbers. Flowers to my classroom. He showed up at The Roost and threatened to drag me home. He even broke into my rental and took photos from my bedroom.”
Drummond was scribbling furiously. “Do you still have those texts? The photos he took?”
“I blocked the numbers and deleted the messages.” I felt stupid admitting it. “I didn’t think to screenshot them.”
“That’s fine. If needed, authorities can always tap into phone records. What about witnesses to the coffee shop incident?”
“The barista. Iris. She saw some of it.” Though how much, I wasn’t sure. Axel had intervened before things escalated further.
“I saw the rest,” Axel growled.
Reyes nodded slowly. “All right. We’ll pass this information along to the sheriff’s department.
Deputy Holt should be here shortly.” She glanced at Axel, who hadn’t stopped glaring at my ransacked office.
“In the meantime, I’m going to ask everyone to step back from the doorway. We need to preserve the scene.”
We retreated a few feet down the corridor. Axel’s hand never left my body.
“This is bloody ridiculous,” he muttered, low enough that only I could hear. “They’re not going to find anything. Blackthorn’s a witch. He’s too smart to leave prints or any kind of trail.”
“I know.” My voice was hollow. “But… I have to do something. He’s taken things too far.”
His fingers flexed against my hip. “When we find him—“
“Axel.” I turned to meet his eyes. The honey color was bleeding into yellow, his wolf pushing close to the surface. “Not here. Not now.”
He held my gaze for a long moment, then exhaled slowly. The yellow receded. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
I didn’t argue. I didn’t have the energy.
Deputy Holt arrived twenty minutes later—a tall, weathered man in his fifties with a salt-and-pepper mustache and the unhurried manner of someone who’d seen plenty in his years. He introduced himself, shook my hand, and spent a few minutes surveying the damage before pulling out a voice recorder.
“Mind if I record this? Easier than notes.”
“That’s fine.”
He walked me through everything again—my history with Ambrose, the harassment, the previous incidents. Axel stood like a sentinel beside me, occasionally interjecting details I’d forgotten or downplayed. Deputy Holt took it all in with a calm, measured expression that gave nothing away.
“And this Blackthorn,” Holt said eventually. “He’s not from around here?”
“Walton. Like me.”
“You know where he’s staying locally?”
“No.” The admission made my stomach clench. He could be anywhere. Watching. Waiting.
Holt nodded, making a note. “We’ll see what we can find. In the meantime, I’d recommend documenting any future contact—screenshots, recordings if legal, witnesses. The more evidence you can gather, the stronger a case we can build.”
“What about a restraining order?” Axel demanded. The only good that would do was draw attention to him with human authorities. But…it was worth a shot. Especially since Ambrose’s family was the upper echelon of supernatural society.
“She can certainly file for one.” Holt fiddled with his recorder. “I’d recommend it, actually. Won’t stop someone determined, but it gives us more legal tools if he violates it.” Holt’s gaze was steady on mine. “Do you have somewhere safe to stay, Professor Miller? Somewhere he doesn’t know about?”
“She’s staying with me,” Axel said before I could answer. “My property is secure.”
Something flickered in Holt’s expression—curiosity, maybe, or recognition. Small town. Everyone probably knew the reclusive man who lived in the mountains. But he didn’t comment.
“Good. That’s good.” He tucked his recorder away. “I’m going to have my team dust for prints, take some photos. Probably be a few hours before we’re done processing the scene. I’ll give you a call when you can access your office again—likely tomorrow morning at the earliest.”
“What about my things? I have assignments in there. Materials for my afternoon lectures.”
Holt considered this. “Tell you what. Once we’ve documented everything, I can have Officer Reyes escort you in to grab essential items. But it’ll need to be supervised, and you’ll need to tell us exactly what you’re taking.”
“Thank you.” It wasn’t much, but it was something.
“We’ll be in touch, Professor Miller.” He handed me a card. “Case number’s on the back. Call me if anything else happens. Anything at all.”
Axel’s hand found mine as we watched Holt head into my office. His grip was warm and grounding, thawing my icy fingers.
“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you some air.”