Page 35 of Legacy Wolf: Semester One (Legacy Wolf #1)

ATTICUS

The little fucker Rawling was still a Sombertooth student, despite me doing my best to get rid of him.

Fuck. I twisted my hair in my fingers and yanked it so hard it hurt. And Jack was nowhere to be found. If I could find her, maybe she’d suck me off and I’d feel better. I stomped around the room until Phelan stormed off to work in the library.

What was his problem anyway? He’d had a long face for days. Had Rawling pissed him off somehow? I’d asked him to join forces with me and look into that latent’s background, but my best buddy told me to fuck right off. Maybe he was jealous of me fucking Jack?

Phelan had never had trouble finding an omega to shove his dick into, but this semester he’d been kinda weird, saying he was concentrating on his studies and was too young for a serious relationship.

Who expected their college fuck buddy to be their mate?

Not me. Whatever. If he was envious of me and Jack, he could find someone.

After pacing the floor and not coming up with a solution to my problem—the problem being Rawling—I flung myself on my bed and opened my laptop.

Some raccoon, rabbit, and squirrel shifters had been overheard saying Rawling was the most handsome guy in Sombertooth.

I almost removed their heads and let them see my wolf. As if.

Everyone was aware wolves were numero uno, and I was the best of the best, having the most brutal wolf, my family being rich, and me being the best-looking wolf around.

Pfft. Rawling didn’t come close. His parents were dead, his godfather must have left him money for Sombertooth, and he couldn’t find his beast. Not much of a resumé.

Step one was to find out about his parents.

I’d never seen any reference to any Blakesley before him, though I didn’t know his mother’s name.

I did an online search for Rawling and not much came up other than him at his godfather’s funeral and another article in the Sombertooth news about him being accepted here.

A dead end.

There was more on Rawlins. Blah blah him at the college, archery, his business, and his death.

He’d never mated. Was that because he hadn’t met the right person or did he devote his life to his godson?

I supposed some might consider that a huge sacrifice, but I thought it was stupid.

What a waste looking after a screaming snotty-nosed kid when he could have been out fucking and partying.

My fingers hovered above the keyboard. A quick search showed I was right and no Blakesley had ever attended Sombertooth. Yet another dead end.

Word was Rawling’s parents had died in an accident, so I searched the family name and accident. Nada.

I was curious. Everyone had an online footprint these days, even his folks who must have died… less than nineteen years ago. And yet, I couldn’t find a mention of them. I searched other shifter colleges and came up empty.

What if… what if… Rawling’s story about his background was made up? All BS? But why? Why do people hide parts of themselves and pretend to be something different? Lots of reasons. They committed a crime. They were running away from abuse. Or perhaps they were sent to spy on us.

No, even to my ears—and I was willing to believe the worst about Rawling—that sounded preposterous.

That occurred in the movies, and I supposed it did happen in real life but not at Sombertooth.

Why would anyone be spying here? To check out who was only pretending to recycle paper?

I had to backtrack because going down that route would lead to conspiracy theories.

But there was something not quite right about the guy, and it wasn’t to do with his latency. It was something else. Phelan must have sensed it too because he was always checking Rawling out.

Footsteps in the hallway had me pause. That wasn’t Phelan or Rawling. I recognized Jack’s walk and leaped up, my mood improved. Blow job, come to me, baby!

I swung open the door and slid behind Jack as she fumbled with her keycard. “Hello, gorgeous.” But instead of grinding her butt against my obvious erection, she wriggled away.

“Stop it, Atticus. I’m hot, sweaty, and bad-tempered.” She glared at me, and I moved away from the door. My ego deflated. I could always rely on Jack to make me feel better, telling me my cock was huge and how she loved shoving her fingers in my ass. My dick stiffened further.

“I know how to fix that if you let me.”

She crossed her arms. “It may come as a surprise, but while I love your cock and what it can do, it’s not the goddess’s cure-all for every problem.”

“Really?” Probably shouldn’t have said that based on Jack hissing at me and baring her teeth. She might not have been able to find her beast, but she was doing a pretty good imitation of one.

No . Even my wolf was aware I’d fucked up.

“Go away.” She opened her door, and I made my second mistake, or perhaps third, by sticking my foot out, preventing it from closing.

“What the fuck, Atticus? You’re seriously pissing me off.”

I strode into Jack and Rawling’s domain.

“I’ve ignored the petty shit that goes on between you and Rawling, but if I have to choose, it’ll always be him.”

She was so fierce, and gods, I wanted to fuck her, but she said no. I may have been an ass—I wasn’t blind to my behavior—but I would never attempt to have sex with an omega without their consent.

Listen , my wolf told me.

I am. She won’t get naked for me, and I’m being a whiny baby. Maybe that would work if I pouted.

Listen , my beast repeated.

Fine . I rewound what she said in my head.

What? She’d choose the latent? My nemesis?

The fucker who was better than me at archery and Jack’s bestie?

How? What? Why? I had to glance away and pretend I had something in my eye because I wanted to cry.

No way could that happen. My family were not criers. That was something other people did.

“Him? You’d prefer him to me.” I couldn’t grasp what she was saying. It had to be a joke.

“Yes. He’s my best friend and he cares about me and I care about him.” She stroked my cheek and flicked my hair. “You’re gorgeous, and when you’re not being a complete ass, you’re fun to be with. You have a big dick, and I love it when it’s inside me.”

I puffed my chest out, but my wolf harrumphed, saying I wasn’t paying attention.

I am. I truly am .

“But you have a cruel streak.” Jack was hopping from one foot to the other. “And now I have to pee. Don’t move.”

How long did a woman take to pee? I had no idea, but then she’d wash her hands.

Again, not much time. I headed for the nightstand with a pic of Rawling and his godfather and pulled out the drawer.

He was much tidier than me, with papers neatly piled on top of one another, an old notebook that appeared older than him, and a piece of paper with his name and a lot of…

shit… lots and lots of zeros. If this was correct, that fucker was loaded.

There was no way he'd come by that money honestly. Or through a part-time job during high school. I’d never had to work a day in my life, but I knew teens didn’t get paid a lot for lugging boxes and parking cars. Thank gods I’d never had to do that shit.

But getting back to Rawling, who had given him that money and what did they expect in return? Maybe Jack would know. When we were alone next, I’d worm the details out of her, though she’d never let anything slip about her roommate before, no matter how much I pestered her.

Two things happened at once. Jack came out of the bathroom and caught me snooping, and Rawling walked into the room.

“What the fuck?” Jack yelled.

“What are you doing checking out my stuff, asshat?” Rawling was raging. He might not be able to find his beast, but fuck, his fury had me flattening myself against the wall.

“Who are you?” I snarled, waving the banking details at him.

“Someone who has a fuck ton of money, that’s who.”

Jack scooted over to me and yanked my shirt. “I’ve excused a lot of your shit because I needed a fuck from a big dick, but no more. We are done. Get the fuck out of this room and my life.”

“What? Huh?” She didn’t mean it. She’d miss my cock and be begging for it in a few days.

Now it was Rawling’s turn. “Piss off, Atticus.”

“And… and what if…” I stuttered but couldn’t get the words out.

Go , my beast insisted.

You’re supposed to be on my side .

I stormed out, head held high, but grabbed the door to support me. “But tell me, Rawling? Who are you really? You seem to have appeared out of nowhere.”

“You know, Jack.” Rawling slung an arm around her shoulder. “There are a few details you don’t know about Atticus’s behavior in that stupid secret society he’s so proud of. But I can fill you in.”

And the door slammed in my face.

Fuming, I charged into my room as Phelan was emerging from the shower.

“What?” I yelled.

“I heard shouting.”

I was going to pretend Jack hadn’t broken things off. That didn’t happen to people like me. I did the breaking and ending, but Phelan’s downcast expression annoyed me, and I blurted out, “Jack says we’re done. She doesn’t want my cock.”

“Welcome to the real world, Atticus. Besides, I thought it was just about sex. You proclaimed it loud and long to anyone who would listen.” He picked up a book and started reading.

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been dragging your ass around for days. I want to punch your sad puppy-dog face.”

He shrugged.

“I’m the one in pain. Can you order me a special treat from the bakery in town?”

Phelan sighed. “They’re closed. Go take a shower and cool off.”

“You have no idea of the pain I’m in.” It wasn’t just that Jack rejected me. I liked her. Really liked her, and I’d never admitted that. Not to her or myself. Fuck, this was how it felt to be dumped!

“You think?”

“Please tell me you’re not interested in Jack because that’s not happening,” I growled.

“I’m going to ignore that because you’re obviously hurting. So much for it just being about sex.”

“Sex, sex, sex,” I shouted. “It was only ever about the sex.” The more agitated I became, the more I was certain that Jack had wormed her way into my heart. How had that happened?

Why didn’t you stop me? I raged at my wolf.

He ignored me and pretended to be asleep.

Phelan climbed under the covers and turned off his lamp, leaving me alone with my thoughts. What was I supposed to do now? I wanted this combination of pain and numbness to be over. Phelan was my best friend, and he had no sympathy for me. What the fuck sort of friend was that?

You! my wolf informed me.

What? Why did I have a beast who told it like it was? Why couldn’t he pander to my ego and say it was all Phelan’s fault.

Unable to sleep, I checked my phone. Nothing from Jack. My fingers itched to message her, and I typed and retyped a text. But before hitting send, I deleted it. When sleep finally claimed me, I dreamed of Jack begging for forgiveness and wanting my dick.