Page 7 of Alpha Varsity (Wolf Ridge High #5)

Chapter Seven

L otta

I shiver against the breeze. In the desert, the temperature drops significantly at night, and I’m still in my shorts and midriff top.

I’m sketching under the soft glow of the Christmas lights I strung up under the roof of my back patio. The front patio of the studio casita my parents rent to me faces the pool and their house which is why I prefer this side. Here I have some privacy. I face the wilderness which inspires the backdrop of my sketch.

In the foreground is a giant she-wolf. It’s not me. This one is an alpha wolf. I see her in my dreams. She’s white like the snow. Sleek. Powerful.

I set the charcoal and sketchpad down and wrap my arms around myself as I stare into the darkness.

Tonight the wild is calling to me.

Shift. Change. Run.

Find your mate.

Perhaps it’s not the wild. Maybe it’s just my wolf itching to be free again .

I haven’t been the same since the full moon run. It’s been impossible to sleep. I lie awake, feverish and full of energy. When I do sleep, my dreams are haunted by him .

My wolf wants her mate. She wants another round with him. Wants me to figure out who he is. Where to find him. How to get his attention.

I wake every morning sweaty, horned up, and desperate for a release.

I turn my head, listening to what sounded like a soft footfall.

But no. I’m imagining things. All I hear is the sound of car horns blaring in celebration. The Wolf Ridge football team must’ve won their game. Earlier cheers drifted on the breeze from the stadium. The team always puts on a great show for the town.

I didn’t go to the game, despite my wolf’s desperation to get out there and sniff every man in town. There’s something about being home when the rest of the town is gathered that feels juicy. Probably because those were the only times I could focus on my art when I lived under my parents’ rule.

I wonder whether Asher was allowed to play in tonight’s game. He was absent from class for the last three days, but football matters here. I wouldn’t be surprised if Principal Olsen let him on the field tonight. He would consider Asher’s actions in my classroom justified from a wolf perspective. A male wolf defending the honor of a female is part of our culture. It’s just that those actions aren’t allowed at school or in front of humans.

I sigh and stand from the patio chair. I’m too restless to enjoy the beautiful night. My skin is hot and itchy. Maybe I should just shift and try to run it off. Would I sleep better? Or would it compound my problems?

I turn toward the door and freeze. The gasp is so sharp it hurts my throat.

If this were a horror film, they would have played that jump-scare sound. You know, the angry violin slash?

Because standing on my porch is the hulking form of one of my students.

Not just any of my students. The one who hates me because of a judgment call I made five years ago. The one I just had suspended for fighting in my classroom.

Asher Martin.

His eyes narrow as he lifts his nose to take in my scent. “You’re afraid of me.” Is that scorn in his voice?

It seems more like anger.

But maybe that’s just his everyday vibe toward me.

Hell, it was his general vibe even before he hit full puberty and became a wolf. He grew up in a violent home. Violence breeds violence, as we all know.

And right now, I have a 250-pound angry linebacker standing on my porch, no doubt here for revenge. Whether it’s revenge for the past or revenge for getting him suspended this week, I can’t be sure.

I glance toward my parents’ house. Should I call for help? They might be back from the game by now. But then there would be more repercussions for Asher. My mom would have him punished to the full extent of pack law for threatening me. I’m not sure I want that for him. I never believed he deserved the angry rebel hoodlum reputation he got in this town.

Asher’s nostrils flare when I look toward the house. “Thinking of calling for help?” He prowls closer.

I hold my ground with my neck stiff and straight, but my heart hammers against my sternum. My palms are damp with sweat. I know Asher smells my fear .

“You really don’t understand why I’m here, do you, Lotta?” His voice is soft and dangerous. He drops the Ms. James , which is just as well. He always manages to infuse it with enough taunt to make me certain it doesn’t convey any respect.

“You think I want revenge. That makes sense after what you did to me and my family.” He steps even closer.

I resist the urge to back up. I’m still Asher’s teacher, dammit.

“Or maybe you think I want something from you.” He cocks his head, studying me. “Maybe I’m here to see if you’re really taking off your panties for your students.”

A flash of anger brings out my wolf, but it’s too late.

Asher moves before I finish balling my fists. He pins me up against the wall of the casita with a hand around my throat, his other hand holding under one knee.

I cry out with shock at his sudden violence. But I realize he isn’t choking me. I’m dangling above the ground, my weight held by my knee rather than my throat.

He’s just scaring me. Showing me how much stronger he is. What he’s capable of. One squeeze of that powerful fist, and he could snap my neck. No amount of shifter healing properties would bring me back from that.

“Let’s see if you can figure out the real reason I’m here,” he growls.

I try to kick him in the balls, but he traps my free leg by pinning it against the wall with his hips. His body presses against mine. I feel every ridge of his rock-hard muscles.

I’m sweating and cold at the same time.

“Close your eyes, Lotta.” His growl is a low rumble now.

I stare at him in confusion. What ?

“Close them and take a deep breath. Then tell me why I’m here.”

I don’t move. I’m still holding my breath, trying to decipher what in the hell he’s saying. What does he want from me?

“Breathe.” There’s Alpha Command in his voice, and my body instinctively responds.

I suck in a deep breath, searching his face for a clue.

“Close your eyes.” Alpha command again.

My lids snap closed. The heat of his breath whispers across my face. His forehead touches mine.

“Why am I here, Carlotta?” The growl is low now. Taunting.

With my eyes closed, my other senses sharpen. I hear the pounding of my own heart. The wheeze of my breath. The scent of my fear mingled with the deeper notes of hi–

Oh!

My eyes fly open.

Leather and spice.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

It can’t be.

Asher Martin cannot be my lover from the full moon run.

Oh. Fuck.

I thought it was an older man. Someone who couldn’t claim me because he already had a mate. Not a student.

But there’s no denying his scent nor my body’s response to it.

Fate sent me an impossible match. Fate is seriously fucking with me.

Because Asher Martin–one of my students and a bitter enemy–cannot be my mate .

As soon as I figure it out, Asher releases me, and my feet drop softly to the floor. He stares down at me with a considering look. “So.”

Damn him. How dare he fuck with me like that? He didn’t allow me to see his identity because he knew it wasn’t right. That I never would’ve consented to having sex with him. He put my job in peril.

I slap him across the face. It’s challenging because he’s so much taller than I am. The slap stings my hand and seems to have zero effect on him. I slap again, harder. Then, a third time. Still zero effect. I crank my arm back to hit him a fourth time, but he grabs my wrist and spins me around, pinning it to my waist, with my back yanked up against his front. “Slap me again, and I will spank your ass pink,” he growls in my ear.

Fate, help me. Heat blooms between my legs and suffuses my neck and face. All I can think about is that spanking he gave me out in the woods. How wonderful it felt to be mastered by his strong, commanding body. How much I want him to repeat it.

No. Fate, no. This is wrong on every level.

Asher releases me, and I immediately bolt, my hand reaching for the door handle to the casita. I throw open the door and rush inside, but he’s right behind me. He picks me up and tosses me onto the center of the bed. He’s just showing off his physical dominance now. Making sure I remember how big and strong he is and how small I am.

I scramble to my feet, standing on the bed where I can tower over him for a change, like a little dog standing on a chair to bark at a bigger one.

Of course, Asher is not intimidated by me in the slightest.

“So.” He advances to the edge of the bed. “I will tell you why I came here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out my panties.

Damn him. Of course he has them.

Why didn’t it occur to me to demand them back after the fight?

He holds up the slip of red silk dangling from his thumb. I try to snatch them away, but he lifts his hand out of my reach. “I want to know why the fuck Eric Damonella had my mate’s panties.”

“I’m not your mate!” I blurt even though it’s so obviously not true. What I mean is I didn’t consent to be his mate. I’m not going to let him claim me. This isn’t happening. Even if we weren’t complete enemies, he’s my student and five years younger. It’s an impossibility.

He arches one brow. Which I, unfortunately, find incredibly sexy.

Wait. No.

I can’t be attracted to this guy. He’s a boy.

Except nothing about Asher Martin is boyish. He’s six feet five inches tall, two hundred fifty pounds of solid muscle, and eighteen years old. Asher is all man now. Alpha wolf. The looks that were heartbreakingly beautiful on him when he was still a scrawny thirteen-year-old now make him drop-dead gorgeous.

“You know that’s not true.”

He waves the panties. “Tell me he didn’t touch you, so I know I’m not committing murder tonight.”