Page 39 of Legacy Wolf: Semester One (Legacy Wolf #1)

RAWLING

“Do you mind if I take another look at your godfather’s notes?”

I was on my bed, reading a comic, eyes half closed.

I’d been spending a lot of my free time with Holden, but today he was at a conference with Professor Shaw.

Holden was such a nice guy, and he was really interested in me, asking me about my life and how I came to be at Sombertooth.

And when we weren’t on college grounds, he’d take my hand and brush against me which sent my heart into overdrive.

Every so often doubts niggled at me, and I wondered why he was so intrigued by my background.

But then I told myself to stop being silly.

I deserved to be happy, unlike when Phelan and I were sleeping together.

Holden liked me for me, not because of my slick tight hole or the size of my cock, neither of which he’d seen.

We hadn’t even kissed properly, only on the cheek, and while I would have welcomed his lips on mine and his hand on my crotch, I was willing to take it slow.

Phelan and I hadn’t had a proper conversation before we fucked—not that we’d had one after we stopped having sex either.

That was the second time I’d thought of Phelan in the last few minutes, and I needed to banish him from my head.

“Rawling? What are you thinking of?” Jack smirked.

“Not everyone thinks of dick every minute of every hour, Jack.” She and Knox were having sex almost every day from what I could gather.

I guess it made her happy, and much as I loathed Atticus, I couldn’t take pleasure in his distress at seeing Jack cozying up to another alpha.

Served him right for taking Jack for granted, not that she appeared to have any feelings for him.

She said she was with him for the sex, and her behavior suggested just that.

“And to answer your question, nothing,” I fibbed. “What did you want?”

“Your godfather’s notes and stories.”

“Sure.” I jerked my head at the nightstand drawer, the one Atticus had been snooping in.

Jack settled on the bed, cross-legged, and was soon immersed in reading. She flipped back and forth between the pages and scribbled notes on her own notepad.

“Oh my gods, Rawling, look at this.”

Dragging myself back from almost falling asleep, I opened one eye. “What is it?”

Jack stabbed a page with her finger. “This details something about a student going missing.”

“What?” I leaped out of bed.

Jack followed the line of writing with her finger, reminding me of how I used to do that when I first learned to read.

The alpha disappeared one night. There were rumors of specks of blood in the forecourt the following morning, though someone had obviously taken a lot of trouble to clean it up .

Jack and I stared at one another, our mouths forming an O.

“That fits with what Channon told us about his dad’s cousin,” Jack noted.

Both Rawlins and Professor Shaw were not in the same year as George and Sasha, but they were here when it happened. Was my godfather writing about Sasha’s death? He didn’t use the name, but all of his writing was truth woven with fictionalized details.

“Remember your godfather intended you to have this book,” Jack pointed out.

It was a labyrinth of clues and half-truths, facts and pure fantasy, though not as much of the latter as I’d assumed when I first picked it up.

It was of no use asking Professor Shaw, as he’d told me never to speak of Mika, so he’d hardly confirm or deny any stories about Sasha and what Rawlins may have known.

“Let’s go and look at the forecourt.” Jack jumped up.

“What for? Sasha’s death was before we were born. There won’t be any blood or clues left.”

But Jack had grabbed her jacket and phone and was out the door. I reluctantly followed.

“Should we ask Channon to come with us?” I didn’t suggest Bardoul because of how he’d reacted to the discovery about Sasha.

“Nah, too many people might attract attention.” Jack strode to the main gate which was closed as usual.

Zev was on duty as he had been the night I arrived.

Neither Jack nor I had been assigned guard duty, as we’d only joined the college in the second semester, which I was pleased about.

It wasn’t a twenty-four-hour gig, but on cold and windy nights, the tiny guardhouse must’ve been cold and uncomfortable.

I’d heard it leaked during big storms, though I did prefer the guard uniforms to our stupid blazers and ties.

“George told Channon he was back so late the gates were closed.” Jack waved to Zev and poked her head inside the guardhouse. “What time do the guards go off duty, Zev?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you want to know? Not thinking of sneaking out, are you?”

“No.” Jack giggled. “It’s for an assignment. Statistics.”

Zev’s eyes glazed over. Maybe Jack was aware the guy hated math or perhaps she just got lucky.

“Oh. Eleven on the dot.”

“Thanks.”

We huddled together as Jack typed in “eleven” on her phone. “So it was after eleven when George returned. Most students would have been in their rooms or maybe at the library.”

“But whatever happened to Sasha was before that, as in way beforehand, because the faculty were already cleaning up when George saw them,” I said.

“Okay, so we don’t know the exact time George returned, but let’s assume it wasn’t long after eleven, as he would have known when the guard left.”

That was a reasonable assumption, and as he was late and it was dark, he wouldn’t have been dawdling, so walking quickly or running. Jack checked her notes which said he “rounded a corner.”

We looked at one another. “The forecourt.” It took us less than a minute to reach the corner George referred to.

“Even with all the faculty helping out, it would have taken at least an hour to clean up any signs of…” Jack gulped and lowered her voice. “A murder.”

“Probably longer.” Growing up, Rawlins and I had neighbors whose job it was to clean homes and offices after someone had been murdered. It took ages, but in the forecourt, they weren’t dealing with carpeting and soft furnishings. Hoses would have washed away most of the evidence.

I shivered at the word evidence. A student had been killed and no one spoke of it.

“What if we found Kendric, Mika’s roommate. Maybe he knows something.”

But I shook my head at Jack’s suggestion. “No. He was traumatized, and it’s been less than six months. We should leave the guy alone.”

“You’re right.” Jack tapped her nails on the phone. “Maybe Sasha had siblings. While his death would still be a painful subject, they might be willing to shed light on what happened.”

“That’s an idea.”

We headed back to Phoenix House. From the corner of my eye, I noted the asshat looking at us. “Don’t look. Someone’s staring at you. No, make that glaring.”

Jack sighed. “He’s so tiresome.” She flung an arm around my shoulder and said in an overly loud voice, “Gotta run. I have a hot date.”

“Oh, Jack, no.” Atticus looked as though he was about to combust, with his red face and clenched jaw and fists. Even his long hair seemed angry as he flipped it over his shoulder.

“Too much?” She glanced up at me. “Can’t believe you feel sorry for him considering how he treats you.”

“Me neither.”

“Maybe you’re right. I shouldn’t be enjoying his pain. But I do have a date,” she whispered.

“Go.” I was about to add, “Have fun,” but she always seemed to. Knox appeared and waved, and they walked off arm in arm.

Damn, now I had to walk past Atticus alone. At least Phelan wasn’t with him.

“What were you two doing?” His accusatory tone had my nostrils flaring.

“None of your damned business.”

His face fell. Wow! A point to me. I strode past him and returned to my room. Thinking about what Jack had said, I searched the old yearbook for Sasha’s family name: Cadell. First I looked through the yearbook and found another Cadell two years ahead of Sasha, a Fergus Cadell.

An online search of Fergus Cadell revealed he lived about thirty minutes from Sombertooth and owned a restaurant.

I noted the details. My phone buzzed. Holden.

He was back and said he’d picked up some chocolate croissants and would I like one.

I pictured us eating them, the chocolatey goodness warm and melting slightly on our lips and me leaning over and licking a dollop of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

Yes, please .

Meet me in the gazebo .

This was it. We’d kiss, and if no one was around, there might be groping, moans, rubbing up against one another. Oh gods, maybe he’d take me to his room and we’d fuck.

I need a shower first .

No. Come as you are. I don’t mind if you’re dirty .

I fanned myself with my comic. I was going to have his cock in my hole before the day was finished.