52. Hunter
Hunter
The chatter of excited students washed over me as I stepped off the academy bus. An eagle shifter barged past, too focused on his phone to realize who he’d disrespected. A low, threatening growl soon reminded him, and he immediately froze, face pale in the moonlight.
“Sorry, sir!”
“Watch yourself, Hammond,” I snarled, “or I’ll send you back to Moonfall.”
“Yes, sir, sorry, sir! It was an accident, sir!” he stammered, nearly pissing himself.
“Oh, fuck off.” I turned away dismissively, already irritated beyond measure.
The eagle and his two friends scurried off as fast as their legs could carry them, all three wearing dumb-as-fuck bat costumes I knew would not impress any self-respecting female.
“Was that really necessary, Hunter?” Roxanne drawled, her voice dripping with honeyed amusement. She drew close, pressing her breasts against my arm. Once again, my lion rumbled, unhappy about her proximity and blatant scent-marking.
I put some distance between us, brushing a fleck of lint from my charcoal shirt.
“Give them an inch and they’ll take a mile,” I said, forcing my mouth into the semblance of a smile. Much like Roxanne.
Her scarlet lips curved up. “You’ll catch more flies with sugar, Hunter.”
“I think it’s fair to say we have different approaches to student discipline, Roxanne.
” Not interested in continuing this pointless conversation, I barked at the last few students hovering nearby to get a fucking move on before the fucking ball finished and then followed them up the gravel path toward the main building.
Roxanne huffed behind me, struggling to keep up with my much longer strides. I should have known she’d volunteer to accompany our students. No doubt she planned to take advantage of the fae wine and seduce one or more males this evening.
There were many dark corners in and around the ballroom, as well as outside in the academy’s grounds, providing ample opportunities for horny students to get laid.
The other faculty and I supervising the event were supposed to discourage sexual activity, but in reality, none of us gave a fuck unless it was non-consensual. Our presence at the ball was mostly to appease anxious parents that their little darlings were safe.
A spate of demon attacks in the US had caused a lot of anxiety in the magical community. Nobody knew why it was happening, and the Supernatural Council had remained tight-lipped on the subject.
If rogue demons popped up this evening, I’d relish the opportunity to spill some blood.
My lion had been on edge ever since the little hybrid wolf got hurt during the dodgeball game.
I’d planned to punish the two wolf shifters responsible, but much to my fury, someone else had beaten the little shits half to death before they showed up for my detention.
I had a fair idea which alpha was behind the attack, but without proof, there was nothing I could do. Officially, at least.
If I saw the Frosthaven wolf this evening, I would make sure he understood he’d overstepped.
Lights twinkled from frosted fake trees, while carved pumpkins decorated ledges and shelves. The loud music blasting from hidden speakers hurt my ears as students, male and female, spilled out from the ballroom. Testosterone and lust filled the air, as well as the sweet scent of witch weed.
A female feline shifter wearing a torn pink dress with bloody handprints over her breasts stumbled past, her pupils dilated from the fae wine she’d clearly imbibed. I sighed. It was going to be a long, miserable evening.
And the worst thing was, I’d volunteered for this shit.
Why?
Because I suspected the little hybrid wolf would be here, and I couldn’t risk anything happening to him. Not after the dodgeball incident.
The little wolf was surprisingly adept at fighting off bigger males, but he didn’t stand a chance if cornered by multiple males.
Most males wouldn’t take the risk of attacking another student in a public place, but fae wine was strong enough to cloud their judgment. And after someone had beaten up their friends so viciously, there were several students I needed to monitor.
I spotted one of them standing chatting to a small female hawk shifter. He loomed over the much smaller female, caging her in with his thick arms. She seemed receptive to his questionable charms, but I made a point of glaring at him, regardless.
The shifter swallowed hard and then stepped back from the female, still sober enough to recognize the danger of dismissing the threat I represented.
“Stay safe, Tressi,” I called, baring my teeth. “I would hate to have to discipline you tomorrow.” The shifter’s throat bobbed nervously before he dropped his eyes to the floor.
“Yes, sir.”
I nodded at the female and then moved on.
Flying bats, cobwebs, and skeletons adorned the ballroom’s high ceiling.
Flickering candles in alcoves added to the creepy Gothic vibe.
Ignoring Roxanne, who’d finally given up on me and moved off to flirt with a tall tiger shifter male, I slid into an alcove near the main entrance and observed the crowd.
A few students danced, but most stood around drinking and flirting. The females wore a variety of costumes, some more revealing than others. This was a popular event, one where males and females mingled in the hope of meeting their soul-bonded mates.
It rarely happened these days, but we magicals never gave up hope of finding the person the goddess created as our perfect match.
My thoughts drifted back to the little hybrid.
All the signs pointed to him being my soul’s match, but I refused to believe it. I must have misread the situation somehow. It was the only explanation.
Movement near the entrance caught my attention as a group of females entered. Several males nearby groaned appreciatively, and my nose detected a sharp rise in male musk pheromones.
A bronze-skinned tiger shifter female in a black corset with blood trickling from painted lips surveyed the room as if she owned it. Such a dominant female commanded attention, but I wasn’t here to seduce students, no matter how attractive they were.
My gaze moved past the tiger and slid over her friends before snagging on a slim female wolf shifter wearing a short white dress and angel wings.
The shiny latex dress hugged her curves.
Fiery red hair cascaded down her back in shiny waves, and when green eyes the color of emeralds turned my way, the room faded.
Mine, my lion roared, rattling the bars of his cage as he desperately urged me to go to her. I stared at the female’s face with laser-sharp focus. The female’s thick lashes, full lips, and vibrant red hair reminded me of the little hybrid male.
And if my senses were correct, she was also a human-wolf hybrid.
I frowned.
Human-wolf hybrids were rare, so the likelihood of two hybrid wolves popping up in the same area was negligible. Especially two that looked so similar.
It made no sense.
The female held my gaze for what felt like eons before a petite blonde bobcat shifter distracted her.
I gritted my teeth so hard I swore they cracked, and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to pounce on the female and tear her away before all the goddess-damned males in this cursed place claimed her.
My raging beast pushed me forward, but the group vanished in a throng of eager males.
White-hot fury warred with cold logic, but I forced my beast back down, melting into the shadows once again before I did something I’d regret.
When I next looked up, Roxanne stood watching me with pursed lips. Had she picked up on my reaction to the female? Fuck, I hoped not.