Page 25 of Brambles and Bellflowers
Damen had foolishly left me alone with the man who, upon our first meeting, had sent me into the woods to die. And while I’d seen him multiple times since then, this was our first time alone since he’d learned my identity.
“Or don’t.” Dr. Stephens leaned back in his seat. “Suit yourself.” He didn’t seem to care one way or another. He continued to an entirely different train. “Did you know that your mother was my niece?”
I studied him cautiously. “I know that…”
“I’m also your magical guardian,” he added, watching me with mild interest.
Why was he telling me this? Was he expecting me to leap into his arms with joy?
“I know that too,” I told him.
Why was Damen taking so long? Would I be paranoid to think Dr. Stephens had sent him away just so he could talk to me alone?
“Good.” The elderly professor nodded, acting like we’d reached a mutual understanding. “I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.”
My heart pounded as trepidation filled me. What, exactly, had we cleared up?
“You’ll join Mr. Damen in his assignments,” Dr. Stephens declared. His posture was more relaxed, and his tone less curt. Overall, he seemed pleased. “The poor boy does need looking after, I’m sure you’ve noticed. It will make things much easier if you’re nearby.”
I couldn’t argue; Damen needed all the help he could get. But…
“W-what do you mean?” I stammered. Did this have something to do with me being Damen’s assistant? “What will be easier?”
My mouth went dry at his deadpan expression, and I barely caught myself from stepping back.
Being alone with Dr. Stephens made me nervous. I was rarely—if ever—alone with men who had a significant age gap over me. Even my adoptive father never stayed in the house with me without my mother nearby, at least until I was a teenager.
And now there’d been two occurrences in one day.
If being around him—someone I’d interacted with more than once—made me feel this uneasy, how could I ever handle meeting my father?
There was only so much I could take when it came to strong, imposing male authority figures.
My palms began to sweat, and my stomach knotted. I didn’t want to disappoint him. But really, what was he expecting me to say? “W-what are you talking about?”
“Bianca,” he sighed, and my ears perked at the sound of my name.
So, I was no longer worthy of an honorific?
Dr. Stephen’s shoulders squared as satisfaction lay heavy in his powerful frame. “I’m your Elder Er Bashou. I’m supposed to guide you. Once you re-enroll, you’ll change your major to psychology. Then—”
“Why?” I asked, holding the cup against my chest. His expression turned slightly more critical. “M-Ms. Protean said she wants me to work with her when I come back…” I added, wilting slightly under this attention. “I was thinking of moving to c-criminal justice…”
“Ah,Gloria.” Gregory sighed, the look fading as his tone turned to longing.
“Besides, I don’t like psychology…” I bit my lip, holding back my disdain.
Dr. Stephens frowned, and his eyes flashed, almost as if he had found my statement to be personally offensive. “Psychology is a safer field thancriminology.”
“Aren’t you a forensic psychologist?” I asked. His statement didn’t make any sense and wasn’t even factual. “You go into crime scenes…”
“And youcan’twork with Gloria,” he said, ignoring the hole I’d poked in his argument. “We Elders are past our prime—hence the existence of the Paragons—and she won’t be able to protect you. It’s best if you stay with Mr. Damen and me.”
What was he talking about?
“Isn’t she a werewolf?” Werewolves were scary. She was probably deadlier than Dr. Stephens, whose only power seemed to be talking to dead people and glaring at live ones.
Or maybe his protests stemmed from the fact that shewasa werewolf?
