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My heart swells at his words, but before I can respond, a loud thud echoes from somewhere outside the room. Reality comes crashing back.
I jerk away, my eyes wide. "Oh my god. We're in the university library. You're my professor. We can't... we shouldn't have..."
"Sarah, calm down," Lucas says, reaching for me. "It's okay."
I shake my head. "No, it's not okay. You're my professor. I'm your student. This is wrong. We could both get in so much trouble."
"Let me worry about that," he says, his voice soothing. "I've been waiting for you for so long. We'll figure it out."
I want to believe him. I want to trust that everything will be alright. But doubt gnaws at me. Is he not taking this seriously enough? The consequences could be severe for both of us.
Yet, as I look into his eyes, I see nothing but sincerity and love. I’m his mate. We’re made for each other, right? Can I learn to trust again? To believe that sometimes, things can work out?
Chapter 7
Sarah
As I drive through the unfamiliar neighborhood, my mind drifts to the events of the past few days, heat rising to my cheeks. I recall Lucas's touch, his kisses, the intensity of our connection. It still feels surreal, like a dream I might wake up from at any moment.
But this - going to a BBQ with Lucas's closest friends - feels very real. It's a step that speaks volumes about his intentions, about how serious he is about us being mates. The thought both thrills and terrifies me. After Mark, I never thought I'd be able to trust a shifter again, let alone contemplate a future with one. Yet here I am, my heart racing with anticipation rather than fear.
As I pull into the driveway, I spot Lucas waiting for me. He's dressed casually in dark jeans and a forest green henley that accentuates his broad shoulders. The silver streaks in his dark hair catch the sunlight. He approaches as I park, opening my door before I can reach for the handle.
"Hey," he says softly, his eyes warm as they meet mine. I notice his nostrils flare slightly as he leans in, as if he's inhaling my scent. His hand lingers on my arm a moment longer than necessary, his touch sending sparks through my skin. "I'm glad you made it."
I smile, some of my nervousness dissipating in his presence. "Me too."
"Ready?" he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.
"As I'll ever be," I reply, trying to inject some confidence into my voice. "I just... I hope they like me."
Lucas's hand covers mine, his touch sending a spark of electricity through my body. "They'll love you, Sarah. Just be yourself."
We round the corner of the house, and I'm greeted by the sight of a spacious backyard. A large grill dominates one corner, currently unmanned but promising delicious aromas later. Scattered around are comfortable-looking patio furniture and a few picnic tables. My eyes are immediately drawn to a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark auburn hair and a full beard. He's arranging plates on one of the tables, his movements efficient and purposeful.
I recall Lucas's words from a few days ago. "Derek's been my best friend for decades," he had said, a fond smile on his face. "He's gruff and antisocial, but he's got a heart of gold. And he's one of the strongest wolves I know."
Looking at Derek now, I can see why. There's an air of quiet strength about him, a wildness barely contained beneath his human exterior.
As we approach, he looks up, his piercing green eyes landing on us. His gaze flicks between Lucas and me, and I see a flicker of surprise cross his face before it settles into a neutral expression.
"Derek," Lucas greets, his voice warm. "I'd like you to meet Sarah."
Derek's eyes narrow slightly as he looks at me, and I fight the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "You brought a date," he states, his tone gruff but not unfriendly.
I extend my hand, summoning a smile. "It's nice to meet you, Derek. Lucas's told me a lot about you."
He takes my hand, his grip firm. "Has he now?" Derek's gaze shifts to Lucas, one eyebrow raised. "That's new."
I glance at Lucas, confused by Derek's reaction. Lucas clears his throat, a slight flush creeping up his neck. "Sarah's... special," he says, his voice low and intense.
The weight of his words hangs in the air, and I feel a warmth bloom in my chest. Derek's eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and he gives a short nod. "Well then, welcome to the madhouse, Sarah," he says, his lips quirking up in what might be the ghost of a smile.
Relief washes over me as I spot Jenna making her way towards us, her husband Ryan in tow. I've known Jenna for a while now, but it's still strange to see her so at ease among the shifters.
"Jenna, hi!" I greet her, grateful for a familiar face. We embrace briefly before she turns to Lucas.
"Thanks for inviting us," she says. “I’ve heard about Derek’s legendary grilling skills.”
