Chapter 10 #2
Valen looked up from the papers he’d been organizing on his desk, and I watched his amber eyes widen slightly when he saw me.
He was dressed more formally than he’d been at fencing practice, in dark slacks and a button-down shirt that made him look every inch the distinguished professor.
But I could still see the sharp angles of his face, the way his dark hair caught the light, and suddenly I was remembering exactly how those hands had felt on my skin.
“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral. But I caught the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his grip tightened on the papers he was holding.
“I have a form from Dean Thornfield,” I said, pulling out the signed paper and walking toward his desk. “Permission to audit your class.”
I handed him the form, our fingers brushing briefly as he took it. The contact was barely a second, but it sent electricity shooting up my arm. From the way Valen’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, I knew he’d felt it too.
He scanned the paper quickly, his expression unreadable. “Mr. Quinn wishes to audit Monster History,” he announced to the class, though his eyes remained fixed on the form. “How... unconventional.”
There was something in his tone that made me wonder if he was fighting back a more sarcastic comment. Several students turned to look at me with renewed interest, probably wondering why a Quinn would want to take a class about monster history.
“Please, take a seat,” Valen said, gesturing toward the empty chairs. “We were just beginning our discussion of vampire integration into magical society during the late 19th century.”
I chose a seat in the middle of the room. It was close enough to see him clearly but not so close that it would look suspicious. As I settled into my chair and pulled out a notebook, I caught Valen shooting me a quick glance that I couldn’t quite interpret.
“As I was saying,” he continued, turning back to the class, “the Victorian era marked a significant shift in how vampires were perceived by the broader magical community. Before this period, we were largely viewed as monsters to be hunted or avoided. But social and political changes began to challenge these assumptions.”
I found myself leaning forward, genuinely interested despite my ulterior motives.
There was something captivating about the way Valen spoke about history.
He didn’t explain it like he’d read about it in books, but like he’d actually lived through it.
Which, according to Dean Thornfield, he probably had.
“Can anyone tell me what factors contributed to this change?” he asked, scanning the room.
A werewolf student raised her hand. “The Great War? Vampires fought alongside other supernatural beings against the human persecution campaigns.”
“Excellent point, Miss Chen. The alliance formed during the war years did indeed change perceptions. But there were other factors as well.” His eyes swept across the room and briefly met mine.
“Economic necessity, for instance. Vampire-owned businesses became increasingly important to magical commerce.”
I scribbled notes, trying to look like a diligent student while stealing glances at Valen whenever I thought I could get away with it. The way he moved as he lectured, the passionate intensity in his voice when he discussed certain topics… It was impossible not to be drawn to him.
“The integration wasn’t without its challenges, of course,” Valen continued, moving to lean against the front of his desk.
“Many traditional magical families resisted the idea of treating vampires as equals. They preferred to maintain the old hierarchies, the old prejudices. Vampires, after all, were considered far more monstrous than other races because of their need to consume blood to survive. Although not all vampires require that kind of sustenance. There are several other types of feeding. However, that distinction wasn’t made until far later in history. ”
Something in his tone made me look up sharply, and I found his amber eyes fixed directly on me. The comment felt pointed, like he was speaking directly to me about my own family’s attitudes. Heat crept up my neck as I realized he probably knew exactly what kind of background I came from.
“These families,” he went on, still holding my gaze, “often found themselves on the wrong side of history. Clinging to outdated beliefs while the world changed around them.”
A few other students shifted in their seats, clearly picking up on the tension in the room even if they didn’t understand the source. I forced myself to break eye contact and focus on my notes, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
The rest of the class passed in a blur of historical dates and social movements, but I found it hard to concentrate on anything other than Valen’s presence at the front of the room.
Every gesture, every inflection of his voice seemed designed to remind me of our night together.
Or maybe I was just reading too much into everything because I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
When he finally dismissed the class, I deliberately took my time packing up my things, waiting for the other students to file out. I needed to talk to him, to start making progress on convincing him this could work between us.
When the last student left, closing the door behind them, I stood up and approached his desk. Valen was shuffling papers with more force than necessary, clearly trying to avoid looking at me.
“Professor Crowe,” I said formally, though my heart was hammering against my ribs.
“Mr. Quinn.” His voice was clipped, professional. “I trust you found today’s lecture informative.”
“Very much so.” I moved closer, noting how his shoulders tensed as I approached. “I was particularly interested in your points about outdated prejudices and families on the wrong side of history.”
That made him look up, amber eyes flashing with something that might have been anger or amusement. “I teach historical facts, not personal commentary.”
“Of course.” I set my bag down on the desk next to his papers, deliberately invading his space just slightly. “Though I couldn’t help but notice you seem to have some strong opinions about traditional magical families.”
“Strong opinions based on centuries of observation,” he replied, finally meeting my gaze directly. “Is there something specific you wanted to discuss about the curriculum, Mr. Quinn?”
The way he said my name, with that slight emphasis, made my pulse quicken. I could see the conflict in his expression, the careful professional mask warring with something much more heated underneath.
“Actually, yes.” I took another small step closer, close enough now that I could smell that familiar cologne that had driven me crazy in Pigeon Forge. “I was hoping we could discuss my... educational goals. Privately.”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t think that’s appropriate.”
“Why not?” I challenged, emboldened by the way his eyes kept flickering down to my mouth before snapping back up. “I’m auditing your class. Surely it’s reasonable for a student to want to discuss their academic interests with their professor.”
“Your academic interests.” The skepticism in his tone was unmistakable.
“Among other things.” I let my voice drop slightly, just enough to remind him of whispered conversations in dark alleys. “I’m very interested in expanding my horizons, Professor. Learning about perspectives I’ve never considered before.”
For a moment, something raw and hungry flashed across his features, and I thought I might actually be getting through to him. But then he stepped back, putting the desk between us like a barrier.
“Mr. Quinn, I think you should leave.”
“Valen—”
“Professor Crowe,” he corrected sharply. “And yes, you should definitely leave. Now.”
I stared at him, frustration building in my chest. He was being deliberately obtuse, hiding behind professional boundaries when we both knew this was about so much more than teacher-student protocol.
“Fine,” I said, shouldering my bag. “I guess I’ll see you in the salle then.”
I didn’t wait for his response, pulling the door open and stepping into the hallway. But I caught a glimpse of his expression as I left. He was conflicted, frustrated, and definitely irritated with me. I didn’t care though.
This was far from over.