Page 17 of Legacy Wolf: Semester One (Legacy Wolf #1)

RAWLING

After archery practice, I dawdled until everyone else had left, making sure to give my bow to another team member to put away in the athletics hall.

While sex with Phelan that first time—and each and every time—was mind-blowing, I wasn’t in the mood to face him or anyone else, and I didn’t want his dick in me either.

His insistence on me not telling people we were having sex was hurtful. Not that I wanted him to blab it to the entire student body, but hiding it made it seem like his dirty little secret.

Me, I was that dirty little secret.

Much as I hated to compare me and Phelan to Jack and Atticus, I couldn’t help it because the similarities and differences were glaringly obvious. Jack and that long-haired asshat were only in it for the sex. Samesies. Phelan and I weren’t looking to be life-long companions.

And yet Atticus didn’t hide his attraction to Jack. There were long looks while she was eating spaghetti or playing soccer, and they’d acknowledge one another if they passed in a hallway. He’d brush hair from her face, and they’d hover at our doorway saying good night.

I worried that Jack was falling for the guy, but to be honest, much as Atticus had an I’m too cool for school vibe, I sensed he was more into her than vice versa. And while I loathed the guy, I wouldn’t wish a broken heart on anyone.

As for me and Phelan, there was no us. He actively avoided looking at me, often with a deer-in-the-headlights look, before turning around and heading in a different direction.

It was shitty, and yet, was it my imagination, sometimes in the dining hall or at archery, I’d catch him looking at me, a wistful look in his eye?

Had to be my wishful thinking ‘cause he never gave me any indication he was looking for more than a fuck.

And neither was I. That was what I told myself. Phelan’s dick was what I was interested in. And besides, I was too young—both of us were—for a commitment.

I wandered toward the wooded area where I’d seen some of the students stripping off their clothes, making sure there was no one else around. The grass was trampled and shredded fabric trailed from bushes and flapped in the light breeze as if there’d been a fight and someone had been attacked.

Sombertooth was a haven of gossip, and I’d not heard of anyone being injured.

I put some of the threads in my pocket. Despite the wind, a pungent aroma hovered amongst the trees, and I shivered.

The words feral, ancient, and primitive came to mind.

There was my vivid imagination again making up scenarios where men were wolves and I was surrounded by them, though they only showed me their human side.

“You shouldn’t be here, Rawling.”

“Coach!”

“Were you pining for what’s missing in your life?” Her tone softened, and she tilted her head to the side, her eyes fixed on the ragged fabric I was holding.

Was she aware of my godfather’s death? “Rawlins, my godfather, yes. The grief comes and goes.”

“Oh, right. Yes, your godfather.” She patted my arm. “He and I were on the archery team when we were Sombertooth students.”

I thought back to the archery photo and recalled Coach in the back row.

“I was sorry to hear about his death.”

She strode toward the woods, removing her jacket, and glanced at me over her shoulder. “Go back to Phoenix House, Rawling.” Coach didn’t make a move.

I strolled away, desperate to turn and check she was still there. But when I reached the corner of the athletics hall, I couldn’t resist. She was gone. I squinted against the late-afternoon sun, and it looked as though she’d left her clothes on the ground near where we spoke.

Racing to my room, I checked Jack wasn’t in the bathroom before retrieving Rawlins’s book and my own notes. I jotted a mention of Coach’s odd behavior and her seemingly running into the woods at dusk, naked.

Students and faculty running wasn’t strange. And while I’d avoid the woods at dusk, perhaps the trails were more arduous than a running track. But it was the naked part I couldn’t get my head around.

Next on the list were tattoos. Again, not out of the ordinary. Tats were common these days, but the ones I noted were all animals. Atticus and Phelan had wolves, Channon’s was a fox, and Ms. Ardilla had a cute squirrel on her forearm. I put a question mark beside tattoos.

I couldn’t explain the sniffing. Yes, the buildings were old, and mold and dust probably lurked behind the walls, but Jack didn’t sniff, or had she the night we met? I couldn’t recall.

Giving up on my list, I continued reading my godfather’s story. He wrote of hunting in the same woods where Coach had disappeared. She didn’t have her bow and arrow, and as strong as she was, I didn’t see her wrestling with foxes or rabbits while on her run.

One paragraph caught my attention. The shifter’s human side could communicate with their animals, and sometimes, instead of doing it in their head, the person spoke out loud, scaring any actual humans nearby.

Rawlins said the town outside the college wasn’t receptive to visits from the Sombertooth students.

That reminded me of Jack’s list of places we weren’t welcome.

And I hadn’t noticed any weirdness when she and I were there, but thinking back, she had been a little on edge.

I shoved the book and the notes away, frustrated at not finding anything concrete about my Sombertooth peers.

I slammed a fist on the mattress, and the book jumped.

This was ridiculous. I was falling into a conspiracy whirlpool.

The more I read, the more convinced I was my godfather’s story was real.

Perhaps I could talk to Professor Shaw. He might be able to recommend a counsellor in town. Surely some of the students had trouble adjusting to college life and needed someone to talk to. And sadly, I couldn’t be the only student who was grieving.

After checking the time, I put away the book and headed to Professor Shaw’s office. He often worked late. When I walked past after leaving the library, there was usually a sliver of light under his door.

I narrowly avoided Jack and Atticus heading somewhere, shoulders brushing against one another. Ewww. Wish I hadn’t had to see that.

When I reached the professor’s office, the door was ajar, and there was a woman inside talking. Coach.

“Is there something I should know about Rawling?” she asked.

“Such as what?” That was the professor.

“Nothing I can pinpoint, but he’s been snooping around,” she said.

“Snooping suggests we’re hiding something, and we’re not. Are we?”

“No. It’s just sometimes I get a feeling.”

“You and your feelings. Remember when you first met Rawlins?” he asked.

“How could I forget?” She chuckled. “We met in the woods.”

“Rawling is a great kid. He’s fitting in well, a credit to Rawlins’s parenting.”

“He certainly imparted his archery skills.” Coach added, “The kid’s a natural.”

“Excellent. Now I need to run. You coming?”

“Nah,” she replied. “I’ve just been.”

I had the good sense to tiptoe away and hide around a corner, sensing their conversation was over.

The doors slammed, and two sets of footfalls went in the opposite direction.

Peeking around the corner, making sure they were gone, I strolled along the hallway, pausing outside the professor’s door.

Their conversation had brought up more questions than answers.

Back in my room, I sat at the desk, putting the finishing touches on a presentation, but it didn’t hold my attention.

Instead, I researched the word “shifters” and got nothing.

Werewolves was the closest I got. Much as I hated Atticus, I didn’t see him baying at the moon once a month.

And if he was a werewolf, he’d be coming for me ‘cause I’d be number one on his “attack” list.

Jack bounced in as I was closing the laptop. “Hey. Did you get your presentation done for tomorrow?”

I nodded. As she was grabbing clean clothes, ready for a shower, I asked, “I discovered Coach and Rawlins were both on the archery team when they were Sombertooth students.”

“That’s cool. You should get together and talk sometime. It’d be good to get a different perspective than Professor Shaw’s.”

That was true. “I’m not certain she likes me, though.”

An expression I couldn’t identify flashed over Jack’s face and disappeared. “Are you sure? You’re the team’s star.”

“Fuck, don’t say that to Atticus.” We shared a glance and both laughed.

“The Big A isn’t that bad when you get to know him.”

“Stop calling him that,” I begged.

“The Big A has a big, big cock and he knows how to use it,” she sing-songed as she shut the bathroom door.

No matter what Jack said, there was something going on at Sombertooth, and I was determined to find out what it was.