Page 3 of Midnight Hunt

"Professor."

"Ms. Contempt, good morning." I greeted with as much warmth as a lewd fiend such as I could have. "I apologize for the fright last night."

"Suffice it to say, you didn't mean to get caught in the trap." She hugged the blanket around her.

"I did not," I chuckled, bowing my head in apology. "I hope I did not traumatize you. When I break out of wild shape, I don't come with clothes."

"No, uh, the trauma was not because of you." She climbed to her wobbly legs only to fall back into the couch with a squeak. "Now, come on, legs."

"Whoa, Ms. Contempt, please," I breathed, rushing to her side. She stared up at me with those pretty doe eyes and something deep in my belly growled. Tears were welling up in her eyes. "Ms. Contempt?"

"Did… Did someone die last night?" she croaked.

"What?" I sank to my knees in front of her.

"The reason I was in those woods last night? Well, I mean, the reason I was running through them?" she grimaced, "they were hunting me down. They said I killed someone! But I swear, Professor, I haven't done anything. I was just out in the woods, enjoying the moonlight. I don't know what they were talking about."

"Whoa, whoa, Ms. Contempt, take a deep breath for me?" I arched a brow. Valerie immediately sucked in a sharp breaththrough her nose. I nodded for her to exhale, and she let it out slow. "Good. Now, another."

I repeated that a few more times until she was relaxed, sunken back against the couch. "I'm going to go find out what's happened. Please, stay here."

She hugged the blanket closer to her before bowing her head in defeat. I crossed to my kitchen and pulled a water bottle out from its belly. I sat it on the couch next to her.

"If you can manage it, you're welcome to my shower and my closet for clean clothes. Please drink some water. And stay here." I offered her an apologetic smile before pulling away. There was nothing more I could do until I knew what she was talking about.

A murder? On this campus? I shut the doors behind me and went in search of my teaching assistant.

Chapter Two:

~Valerie Contempt~

Minor panic averted, the relief holding that frosty bottle to my chest was life changing. I didn't know what to do or think or say, so I just sat in the quiet of his room. There was the soft flutter of butterfly wings, and the soft puffs of air from fans or the trees lining the walls. For a moment, between gulps of water, I studied it. A massive suite with two rooms branching off from the library I sat in. Bookshelves carved out of trees that made up the walls, there were branches and large boulders scattered around the room. Pillows decorated the boulders like they were chairs, and the couch I sat on was built into a massive shelf. I could point out a few books I knew, and a collection I didn't. There were scrolls and papers and binders tucked everywhere. Vines with delicate leaves draped from the ceiling. Butterflies and moths fluttered from their places as the flowers bloomed into the morning light.

Dragging my blanket with me like a cape, I crept around the room. My body was slow and unresponsive at first, but it gave in when I looked through an archway into the kitchen. It was a large space full of dangling pots and pans, fresh herbs filling the window, and a garden built into the back corner. It was a daydream—no, it was a fucking fantasy. I couldn't resist. I snooped in my professor's fridge.

"You know, I didn't peg you to be this efficient, Professor O'Hare." I poked and prodded at a well-stocked and organized fridge. He had steak marinating in a bowl with cling wrap, a pie that hadn't been carved into yet, fruit, vegetables, and all the things that made me drool. I pulled out some cheese, a handful of chopped salami, and grabbed up some cherry tomatoes. After washing the vegetation off, I sat at his table and ate my smorgasbord with some of the sliced bread he had sitting in his breadbox.

Now, if I had an ounce of shame in my body, I might feel bad about eating his food. At least I didn't shove my face in that blueberry pie, because I was fucking tempted. Instead, I ate from things he obviously kept well stocked and filled my angry belly with food. It wasn't what my body wanted, but it's what it was getting.I wanted fried potatoes and heavy cheese sauce and bacon, stuff that stuck to my ribs and made me feel warm—gooey even.Yet, that felt like too much work. I was too tired.

First, breeding season smacked me in the back of the head. Then, I got chased through the forest, then…well…I saved my favorite professor from a bear trap, and I got to see up close and personal why the other professors call him 'Big Loch' as a nickname. Forget Tavrin, Lochlainn O'Hare was now the only man for me!

Problem being—he was my professor. Oh, and the whole being accused of murder thing. Funny how I was less worried about the murder accusation. If I wasn’t accused of witchcraft ormurder once during my stay here at the college, did I even get a degree?

I grumbled to myself through my snackfast and cleaned up my mess. It took all the energy I earned from eating to make it to the other end. I found a bedroom, just as gloriously earthy as the library, through the opposite door. There wasn't so much a bed as there was mattress in the floor with several pillows and blankets of various sizes. Outside of that, the bath and closet were the only thing in the room.

His shower was basically a waterfall with a frosted pane to keep the water contained. Peeling my nightgown off my body was amazing. Realizing I still stunk of sex and moss, not so much. I sat there, clutching my nightgown to my nose and realizing my professordefinitelysmelled me. I'd been touching myself in those woods for hours in hopes of calming the roaring need in my soul. Breeding season was cruel and unforgiving. It meant wanting to get boned near 24/7. My cunt still ached, and I was frustrated.

I was a feral, horny cat stuck in a cage. The shower helped…a little. Washing off the mud and clovers made me feel more like a person. Rinsing my hair and running it through with the bamboo wide-toothed comb made me feel more in control. Drying off made me feel sensible again. Even if I was a frisky feline, I had bigger things to worry about—like the murder accusation.

I stood in his closet, trying not to dig through his drawers like the raccoon I was for his dirty secrets. I needed a top, which wasn't hard. The man only wore tunics of soft cotton. I pulled on a cream tunic that I had to tie closed below my chest. I gave up trying to find pants of his that would fit and instead went for the shameless set of boxers he kept in a neat basket on top of his dresser.I did sniff them first just to make sure they were clean.

Heading back to the living room, I returned my blanket to the couch first. Then drank my water. And I waited. The panic rose again with every moment he didn't return. I imagined the campus enforcers busting through the doors. They would arrest me and drag me out by my toes.Could I trust Professor O'Hare?

The urge to rush out the door, to run for cover, filled me like a thousand buzzing wasps. I chewed on my thumb as I stared at that damn door. By the time I convinced myself,fuck it,I was up on my feet and the door swung open.

I dropped back onto the couch. "Professor!"

"Ms. Contempt," he breathed, returning with the Dean of Students in tow. My heart clenched up with my lungs and my asshole. Lochlainn motioned at Dean Bandur. "Dean Bandur has some news for you."

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