humiliate him the way he had deliberately sought to humiliate her, thinking she had betrayed him.
Kassia could and should have done any or all of those, but she hadn’t.
She had simply walked away.
And that was fine.
It was better this way.
He had existed all these years without Kassia, and he would go on living, would go back to enjoying his life the way he had when he had never known someone like her existed.
He did not need her because she would be his weakness, and she did not need him because he would only bring danger to her life.
And so it was better this way.
Better.
Safer.
Alessandro’s heart was devoid of emotion by the time he reached for his door and entered his office.
It was better this way.
He had to remember that.
MY WEREWOLF PROFESSOR 3
One week since My Werewolf Professor 2
You must never ever look at him. The thought firmly plastered on her mind, Kassia lifted her chin, entered the dojo, and of course the first thing she saw was him.
Professor Alessandro Moretti.
She desperately willed herself to look away, but she couldn’t. He captivated her without even trying. Unlike most martial arts instructors, the professor didn’t don the usual karategi for class. Instead, he wore a kimono, its white fabric making a stark contrast to his deep olive skin. Secured with a black obi, the kimono showed off the hard panes of his chest, now slick with sweat. It was terribly sexy – unfairly so, for someone in his position. The sight left her dry-mouthed even as her heart ached a little. She could remember the times she had her hand pressed on that very chest. And yet she couldn’t forget that another woman had surely touched him the same way, too.
In front of her, the professor moved in fluid motion, the loose soft cotton of his kimono flowing around his legs as he moved around the fighting circle, bending, twisting, and kicking while he took on three opponents at the same time. Kassia recognized them by face. They were some of the best students of the professor’s advanced class. Or at least they were supposed to be. The professor’s deadly, graceful dance reduced them into nothing better than stumbling novices. He knocked them down, one after another, without breaking a sweat or the smallest show of arrogance.
The bell rang, signifying the end of the class while the students groaned on the floor, unwilling to continue fighting. Applause broke out, feverish excitement rising from the professor’s crowd of female fans. When the professor helped his students up, the girls around Kassia gushed at his show of sportsmanship.
The professor and the students bowed to each other.
When the professor straightened, his heavily lidded gaze suddenly found hers.
Excruciating pain tore through her at feeling the professor’s eyes on her, and Kassia turned away in panic. The ache in her heart became heavier, like a knife twisting deeper inside her.
She could not get the professor’s face out of her head.
How can he look at me like that after what he’s done, she wondered dully. The professor was playing with her. He had to be. He had been doing so from the start. So why, oh Lord, why was she still affected?
****
The students bowed in unison, stepped back from their sparring partners, and assumed their positions. Each pairing was given a tiny amount of space to fight in, and the mechanics of winning were simple: one only had to do anything he could to evict his opponent from his fighting space. In the years that Alessandro had been teaching ookami-kata, the rule had proven effective in encouraging his students to be creative and utilize as much as they could remember from his lessons.
Or at least he used to think it was effective.
Now, not so much.
Not when it was obvious Jacob was using the rules to his advantage, provoking Kassia into making unwise choices that allowed him to playfully cop a feel.
His temper strained against its leash as Jacob continuously employed a defensive
Kassia could and should have done any or all of those, but she hadn’t.
She had simply walked away.
And that was fine.
It was better this way.
He had existed all these years without Kassia, and he would go on living, would go back to enjoying his life the way he had when he had never known someone like her existed.
He did not need her because she would be his weakness, and she did not need him because he would only bring danger to her life.
And so it was better this way.
Better.
Safer.
Alessandro’s heart was devoid of emotion by the time he reached for his door and entered his office.
It was better this way.
He had to remember that.
MY WEREWOLF PROFESSOR 3
One week since My Werewolf Professor 2
You must never ever look at him. The thought firmly plastered on her mind, Kassia lifted her chin, entered the dojo, and of course the first thing she saw was him.
Professor Alessandro Moretti.
She desperately willed herself to look away, but she couldn’t. He captivated her without even trying. Unlike most martial arts instructors, the professor didn’t don the usual karategi for class. Instead, he wore a kimono, its white fabric making a stark contrast to his deep olive skin. Secured with a black obi, the kimono showed off the hard panes of his chest, now slick with sweat. It was terribly sexy – unfairly so, for someone in his position. The sight left her dry-mouthed even as her heart ached a little. She could remember the times she had her hand pressed on that very chest. And yet she couldn’t forget that another woman had surely touched him the same way, too.
In front of her, the professor moved in fluid motion, the loose soft cotton of his kimono flowing around his legs as he moved around the fighting circle, bending, twisting, and kicking while he took on three opponents at the same time. Kassia recognized them by face. They were some of the best students of the professor’s advanced class. Or at least they were supposed to be. The professor’s deadly, graceful dance reduced them into nothing better than stumbling novices. He knocked them down, one after another, without breaking a sweat or the smallest show of arrogance.
The bell rang, signifying the end of the class while the students groaned on the floor, unwilling to continue fighting. Applause broke out, feverish excitement rising from the professor’s crowd of female fans. When the professor helped his students up, the girls around Kassia gushed at his show of sportsmanship.
The professor and the students bowed to each other.
When the professor straightened, his heavily lidded gaze suddenly found hers.
Excruciating pain tore through her at feeling the professor’s eyes on her, and Kassia turned away in panic. The ache in her heart became heavier, like a knife twisting deeper inside her.
She could not get the professor’s face out of her head.
How can he look at me like that after what he’s done, she wondered dully. The professor was playing with her. He had to be. He had been doing so from the start. So why, oh Lord, why was she still affected?
****
The students bowed in unison, stepped back from their sparring partners, and assumed their positions. Each pairing was given a tiny amount of space to fight in, and the mechanics of winning were simple: one only had to do anything he could to evict his opponent from his fighting space. In the years that Alessandro had been teaching ookami-kata, the rule had proven effective in encouraging his students to be creative and utilize as much as they could remember from his lessons.
Or at least he used to think it was effective.
Now, not so much.
Not when it was obvious Jacob was using the rules to his advantage, provoking Kassia into making unwise choices that allowed him to playfully cop a feel.
His temper strained against its leash as Jacob continuously employed a defensive
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