28. Hunter
Hunter
The little wolf had lied about the blood. I wasn’t stupid—I could tell the difference between a small scratch and something worse. What puzzled me was why he’d lie when I already knew he couldn’t shift to heal minor wounds.
But there wasn’t time to worry about any injury he might have when the rope above the bridge gave way.
Had it been any other shifter, I would have let them hit the ground without batting an eyelid.
The rope bridge wasn’t high. Students in my classes had fallen from it many times, sustaining little more than a broken bone or two.
Most beasts shifted before they hit the floor, thus saving themselves the pain of a fracture.
The hybrid was different, however, and my beast roared as he tumbled down with a scream that sliced right through me. I moved instinctively, leaping into the air with all the grace and power of my beast.
Scott’s eyes widened in shock at how effortlessly I caught him. For a male, he weighed surprisingly little. He was also more slender than he looked, although it was hard to tell as he always wore loose clothing.
Snowflakes sprinkled down, settling on his flushed cheeks and melting almost immediately.
“Thanks,” he whispered after a long pause where I forgot to breathe. For the first time in weeks, my beast had settled. He purred loudly inside my chest, satisfied we’d stopped the little wolf from coming to harm.
“You can’t shift,” I said, fully aware that prolonged, gratuitous physical contact with a student was absolutely forbidden. And yet I didn’t let the wolf go.
“I’d have been fine,” he insisted. The snow grew thicker, blanketing my shoulders and head. Fat flakes sizzled against my overheated skin, helping to cool my rioting instincts, a primal urge that demanded I take the little wolf back to my apartment and check every inch of his body for injuries.
“I’m okay, so let me go. I have to go change and stuff.” Finally, reason prevailed. My beast grumbled, but I ignored him and carefully set the little wolf down, quickly putting some space between us. “Um. Thanks again. That was not at all fun.”
He grimaced, shaking the snow from his vivid red hair. It had grown since he first arrived and now brushed his shoulders in loose waves.
With slightly longer hair, he looked more feminine than ever, and if not for his slim hips and wider shoulders, I would think him female. Maybe that was why my lion found him attractive, I mused, even though males were not my type.
“You did well,” I grunted. “I’m busy tomorrow, so take a break and we’ll restart the lessons on Wednesday.” I had nothing scheduled, but I needed a day to get my head together. This weird attraction to a student couldn’t continue. Not if I wanted to keep my job at Moonfall Academy.
The little wolf nodded and shot off as if a pack of hellhounds was chasing him. I hung around for a few minutes until he was out of sight, and then I shifted into my lion. Going full fur usually settled my emotions by letting me take a backseat while my beast roamed free, but not today.
My surly lion roared and swiped at the fallen rope, angry the wolf hybrid he was so protective over had almost died on our watch.
I let him throw his tantrum, and then we bounded off into the forest to release some steam before my next class.