Heather blushes, and I sigh because I know what she’s going to say. She has sexual dreams about wolves, which can only mean one thing: she’s fated to mate a wolf-shifter.
Shit.
“Mating dreams,” I mutter, and my father and Maxwell nod.
“What?” Heather looks confused, or maybe scared. Sure. She chooses now to start feeling afraid. Perfect. Just perfect.
“Shifters mate for life,” my father explains carefully. “When a wolf-shifter reaches puberty, he or she begins to have dreams about their mate. Sometimes these dreams can be very demure. Maybe the dream is about eating dinner together or having children. As a wolf grows and reaches maturity, however, the dreams can become more explicit.”
“Oh.”
“Oh indeed,” Maxwell says. “You’re not a shifter.”
“No.”
“So why is she having mating dreams?” I ask my father.
“She’s obviously mated to someone in our pack,” my dad says. “It’s the only explanation for how she knows so much about the academy.”
“Except the name of it, apparently,” she looks at me. “What is this place called, anyway?”
“Wolf Pack Academy,” I tell her.
“Really?”
“No,” my father glares at me and turns to Heather. “It’s called Greystone Academy. We’re the Greystone Pack. Welcome to the academy, Heather. Until we find out who your mate is, consider yourself enrolled.”
Chapter Seven
Heather
Enrolled at a shifter academy?
Is this guy for real?
Only, the big guy isn’t laughing, so he must be for real. Shit. Shit shit shit. This cannot be happening. I have books to write and deadlines to meet. I have events to go to and places to be. I mean, my latest novel is supposed to release like, really soon, and I don’t want to disappoint my readers. What if I totally tank my career? It’s really just taking off.
Shit.
I grimace and stare at the two big, burly men. They are so unlike Flynn. They look older and harder in some ways, but they also look like they’re a little more patient. Strange. These guys are the ones in charge of everything, and although they look familiar, I can’t quite place where I’ve seen them.
Unless what they’re telling me is true and I’ve been having mating dreams. Have these guys appeared in my dreams? Is one of them my mate? As soon as I think this, I realize it’s not true, though. It can’t possibly be true. Besides, I kind of get the vibe that the two of them might be involved. I don’t have anything to actually pin that on except that I’ve caught a few wayward glances that seem strangely intimate.
“No thanks,” I finally say, standing up.
“No thanks?” The main guy, the one I’m guessing is the alpha, looks at me in surprise. Apparently, he’s not used to people telling him, no.
“Nobody tells the Greystone Alpha no,” the other man says.
“Maxwell,” Flynn says, looking at that guy. His voice holds a hint of a warning, but I have no idea what he’s getting at. Still, just no. I’m not interesting.
“Well, consider me the first, Maxwell.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“Tough shit,” I spit. “Look, no offense, but I didn’t exactly sign up to be kidnapped, and your mating dreams theory is great, but it’s just a theory, and guess what? I don’t want to marry one of your shifters, okay? So if you’ll be so kind as to show me the door and give me back my fucking cell phone, I’ll call an Uber and be on my damn way.”
I don’t actually want to think about how much an Uber from Nowhere, USA back to my house would cost, but right now the only thing I care about is getting out of here.