Chapter Thirty-Two

The Dean takes my hand firmly, his eyes bright in the candlelight as he takes me in. Something about them reminds me of an intelligent animal observing something for the first time, and I’m not sure how I feel beneath his curious stare. It feels like he can see too much inside of my eyes like he can see down to my soul just by gazing at me. Up close, I can see how closely he resembles a wise Barn Owl, with his silver hair and matching beard, with wildly overgrown eyebrows.

He holds my hand for a moment longer than is necessarily polite before letting go, resuming his stance leaning against his cane. “It was hardly a favor,” He says, eyes darting quickly to Adrian somewhere over my shoulder. His smile steadily grows at whatever he finds on my bodyguard’s face as he turns back to me. “Martin is a very old friend. I apologize for being too forward, Ms. Loveday. My name is Aurelius Calix De Leon. You may call me Dean De Leon if you prefer.”

I try not to show how impressed I am by his ancient-sounding name, unsurprised to hear his last name is the same name as the college. “Dean De Leon,” I test it out on my tongue, offering a polite smile. “Thank you.”

Dean De Leon’s beam never leaves his face, which explains the smile lines that permanently crease his mouth and eyes. He leans on his cane as he observes, eyes darting from me to Adrian with the quickness of a hawk. “It is truly incredible to see the two of you together. The son and daughter of my closest friends are destined mates, who could have guessed.”

My smile falters in confusion and I turn to look back at Adrian for an explanation. He stands tense behind me, remaining where I had left him to come to shake the Dean’s hand. A muscle in his jaw jumps as he locks eyes with the Dean, gaze smoldering like the embers of a fire.

Realizing what he said, Dean De Leon purses his lips and rocks back on his heels, releasing a hissing sigh. “Oh, she doesn’t know,” He remarks, not a question. “I should have guessed that Martin would keep her in the dark.”

My smile is completely gone now as I turn back to the Dean, brow creased with aggravated confusion. “Excuse me?” I ask, taking a step backward.

Dean De Leon raises a hand, motioning me to stop my retreat. “My dear, I apologize. I would not have said a thing if I had known. I must admit, however, I’m shocked by Adrian’s complacency in informing you of this University’s history,” He admits, shooting a look behind my shoulder.

“I told her,” Adrian’s voice comes from very close behind me, taking me by surprise. “She doesn’t believe me yet.”

I look up to see Adrian’s expression, unable to tell by his tone if he’s joking. His lips are pressed into a tight line as he looks down at me, expression pleading. Definitely not lying. I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips, twinged with hysteria. “That’s a funny joke, guys. Way to haze the new girl,”

Neither of them laughs though, and even the Dean’s smile fades. Disappointment replaces the creases of his eyes as he sighs, passing a hand over his face. “How could Martin send her here completely unaware? How truly cruel of him.”

I stare at him, uncomprehending his words. "My father isn't a lier," I say flatly, unable to keep the defensiveness from my tone. He definitely looks the part, but I was hoping that Dean De Leon wasn't quite as insane as he looks. "What exactly are you talking about?"

Adrian places a hand on my shoulder, and I resist the urge to shake it off. "Lydia," He says gently as if trying to coax a feral cat from bolting. "Do you remember the game we were playing?"

I turn to look at him, whatever emotion showing on my face making him visibly flinch. "The stupid category game?"

Adrian offers a tight-lipped smile and nods. "Yes, the stupid category game," He repeats, glancing over to the Dean, who watches silently. "It wasn't just game. I was telling the truth last night."

My lip twitches and this time, I do swat his hand away from me. "You're insane. You both are," I hiss, unable to keep the venom from my tone anymore. This whole thing is just strange and inconceivable. I come from normal life in Beverly Hills. This is real life, not some video game or movie that nerds obsess over. This isn't a film set, and I'm sure as hell, not an actress.

Dean De Leon raises his bushy eyebrows, looking more concerned for my well-being than feeling insulted by my words. "Martin should never have sent you here if he hadn't told you," He says. Though his tone remains even, I can feel the anger he holds for my father. "You won't believe anything we say without proof, now, will you child?"

I turn on the Dean, jabbing a finger towards him. "My father is a good man. Keep his name out of your mouth," I seeth, marching forward. Strong arms wrap around my middle, preventing me from furthering my advance on him, yanking me backward. I strain against them, even jabbing my elbows roughly against Adrian's middle with enough force to knock the air out of someone. He doesn't even suck in a breath of discomfort at my struggle, simply leans his head back to stare at the ceiling. To him, I must weigh no more than a toddler who is throwing a tantrum.

Dean De Leon presses his lips together solemnly, making me resent the pity in his eyes. "Oh my. That isn't what I mean, my dear, I mean no offense," He turns his gaze to Adrian, who manages to retrain me entirely so I can no longer move. "I think we need to prove ourselves, Alpha Adrian. It is the only way she will believe what we say."

Alpha? My head reels. This has to be some sort of prank. My eyes scan the shelves around us, searching for a camera. Pinned effectively against his body now, the urge to struggle begins to fade from my muscles. As angry as I am at this situation, the warmth and familiarity of his chest against my back makes me feel exhausted from fighting against him. The scent of pine and mint wash over me, bringing a strange calmness to my mind. I can feel Adrian's heartbeat steadily against my back, and mine slows to match it.

The Dean watches as Adrian effectively subdues me, brow still raised at the effectiveness of simply holding me against him has. Adrian's voice is a rumble against my back when he speaks. "He asked me not to tell her," He says, speaking to the Dean. I don't realize until now that Dean De Leon looks at Adrian with a level gaze, addressing him as an equal, not a student, or even just the son of a longtime friend.

The Dean gives Adrian a dead-pan expression, gesturing to me with his cane. "If you think she will take your word for it, by all means, try to explain. Otherwise, you'd be better off just showing her."

"Show me what?" I demand, though my voice comes out as a whisper. Something about Adrian's touch makes a fog sweep over my mind, making me feel suddenly sleepy. It's hard for me to remember what we're talking about, let alone recall why I was angry in the first place.

Adrian sighs and releases me, but reaches out to steady me as my knees buckle without him to support my weight. His grip on my arm is firm enough to ground me but gentle enough to avoid bruising my skin beneath his coat. "I don't want her to see that," He says, voice like a low growl as he stares at the Dean. "She isn't ready for it."

Dean De Leon shrugs a shoulder, too stiff to be nonchalant. "She is your mate. You will have to show her one day."

I stare between the two of them. There's that word again. Mate? Like a soul mate? That makes no sense. Adrian's jaw clenches so tightly that I can see the threads of muscle beneath his skin. When he turns his attention back to me, he relaxes slightly, dark eyes roaming my face in search of something. I try to focus on him, but find it too difficult.

Adrian exhales, breath fanning my face. He takes a step away from me, releasing my arm. "Fine, you're right. She might be too out of it to remember, anyway."

I stare in awe as Adrian reaches to remove his shirt, exposing his rock-hard abdomen beneath it, tossing the garment onto the ground. He pauses as he reaches for his belt, locking eyes with me. "You may not want to watch this part, Lydia," He says, more of a command than anything.

I continue to gaze at him, unwavering. I've all but seen him naked already, so I don't understand his sudden bashfulness. Seeing that I have no intention to shield my eyes, Adrian sighs and continues undressing, until he stands before us in nothing but his underwear. He doesn't take his eyes away from mine as he works his jaw, seeming at war with himself. "Just don't scream," He says before folding into himself, muscle and bones cracking and snapping with gut-wrenching volume.