Mates of Shadow and Light(Breeder#4)

Chapter 2 : Is the King of Campus Defending Me?

*Lena*

Slate was sputtering, spitting on the ground, and acting overall exceedingly dramatic as he gripped his throat. His hands had caused more redness than Xander's had, I noticed, as I watched Slate act as though Xander had come close to killing him instead of physically forcing him to let me go.

Xander continued to stand behind me, watching Slate with interest. He glanced down at me, giving me a tight, crooked smile before turning his attention back to Slate.

“You done? Or do you need a few more minutes to collect yourself?" Xander asked.

Slate glared at us both, his eyes narrowing into slits as he finally straightened up. “Who the hell do you think you are? I'm a professor–"

“A professor who just had his hands on a female student," Xander retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “And you said she's your girlfriend, right? I expect the administration would look down on that, if they were to find out."

Slate balked, then licked his lips, turning his gaze to me.

“Don't look at her," Xander said sharply, causing Slate to avert his gaze from me and turn his attention to Xander once more.

Slate eyed the duffle bag Xander had slung over his left shoulder, which had “Morhan Varsity Wrestling" embroidered in large, bold letters on the side. Xander had at least six inches on Slate, towering over him even to cast a shadow over the entirety of Slate's body. I fought against the smirk twitching in the corner of my mouth as the blood drained from Slate's face.

Not that I'd needed Xander's help. I would've figured out how to get away–eventually.

“You'll regret this," Slate said weakly, glancing at me so quickly I almost missed it. “My uncle is the dean–"

“Ah, playing that card, are we?" Xander drawled, adjusting his weight. He yawned, actually yawned, as Slate's cheeks began to burn a deep crimson. “I think you'd better go."

“Let's go, Lena–" Slate began.

“No. You go, alone. And if I catch you anywhere near her again, you'll be the one with regrets."

I stole a look at Xander. His gaze was fixed on Slate with such intensity it made me want to cower by association. I hadn't ever seen him so close up before.

I already knew, based on my few sightings of him around campus, that he was tall. But I hadn't noticed how dark his hair was, ink-black and swept back away from his face, curling softly around his ears. I hadn't noticed his eyes, which were a rich, coffee-like color flaked with amber. He was beautiful, even dressed in gray sweatpants and a black windbreaker.

I hadn't noticed that Slate had walked away until Xander slowly turned his gaze to me, meeting my eye. Time stood still.

“Are you okay?" he asked. “He didn't hurt you, did he?"

“No," I said, swallowing hard as I tore my gaze away from his eyes and watched Slate's figure disappear down the pathway toward the campus square. “I'm fine."

“You're not really his girlfriend, are you?"

I shook my head, glancing back up at him. “Goddess, no!"

He chuckled, exhaling as he rested his hand on the duffle bag he was carrying.

“I didn't think so, but I wanted to be sure. That guy is a creep. Does he bother you a lot?"

“Yeah, actually. He always tries to stop me when I'm on my way to the greenhouses. He teaches right there." I pointed to the building Slate had come out of.

Xander nodded, scanning the building, then turning to look up the pathway toward the set of long greenhouses at the top of the hill.

“How often do you have to walk this way?" he asked.

“Um, three days a week. Wednesday through Friday."

“Well tomorrow I'll walk you to your class," he said, but then paused, clearing his throat as he looked down at me once more, “if that's alright with you?"

“You don't have to do that–"

“It's on my way, actually. I have practice at the stadium every day around this time." He tilted his head up the pathway, where the roof of the somewhat worn-down stadium was visible above the trees in the distance. Morhan was known for its academics, not its sports.

I gave Xander another once over, wondering why the hell he was even here. The rumor was that he was a transfer student from the University of Mirage, which was, in fact, known for its athletics. He was studying something related to Heather's chosen field, I knew that much. But he was truly a mystery in every other respect. There really weren't guys like him at Morhan. He stuck out.

“I'm Xander, by the way," he said, holding out his hand for me to shake.

“I know," I replied, then paled, tucking my hands in my pockets. He arched his brow, giving me a playful look as he narrowed his eyes.

“Oh? What else do you know about me?" He dropped his hand, possibly disappointed I hadn't shaken it.

What was I supposed to say? That every girl on campus was obsessed with him? Except for me, of course. That they referred to him as the “King'' of Morhan College?

That my friend had already told me he was asking about me?

“I need to get to class. I like to be early," I said in a rushed murmur, giving him a tight-lipped smile. I started to walk away, feeling his gaze lingering on my back as I took a few paces forward before I turned around to face him once more.

“I'm Lena," I said.

“I know," he said in a teasing voice, smiling at me. “So, are you going to let me be your bodyguard? Or are you able to fend for yourself?"

“I–I don't know. I think he's harmless–"

“He had his hands on you, Lena," Xander said as he took a few steps in my direction. The way he'd said my voice sent a shockwave through my body. I blinked, swallowing back the heat that was rippling over my arms and chest. I'd never really been attracted to anyone the way I was attracted to Xander at that moment. It was physical, downright animalistic.

I wondered, briefly, what he looked like underneath his windbreaker. I couldn't think about that. It was stupid. I was almost ready to graduate and wasn't here to meet a boy!

“Okay, fine," I said, my voice trembling as I nodded my acceptance of his offer, “You can walk me to class on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. I study with my friends at the cafe in the commons if… if you want to meet there."

“That would be fine," he smiled, “as long as you're comfortable being seen with me."

Ah, there it was. He knew he was popular. He knew, and liked, the fact that people fawned over him. I could see it in his eyes, some unspoken challenge. He could have any girl on campus if he wanted to. He wouldn't even have to ask. Why was he interested in me?

“I'm fine with it as long as you keep Slate away from me," I said, my voice a little harsher than I meant it to be. My tone didn't seem to change anything for Xander, however. He adjusted the duffle bag and motioned to the pathway.

“Well, after you!"

***

I found it nearly impossible to focus on class as it dragged on. I was standing at one of the long, plastic tables in the center of the greenhouse, testing soil and writing my findings on a clipboard. My professor was walking around, chatting with the handful of other senior botany students, her hands tucked behind her back as she nodded down at their clipboards.

This was one of my last classes in the greenhouses. Next week was finals, at least for me. Then, by the grace of the Goddess, I would be packing my bags for the research camp in Red Lakes for my six-week long field study–I hoped.

I should have been focusing, testing my skills. But Xander's voice kept replaying in my mind.

He'd dropped me off at the front gates of the sprawling research garden a little over an hour ago, but I could still feel his gaze on the back of my neck, like he had branded me. It was polite of him to walk me to class, and to offer to do so again and again over the next week.

But I couldn't help but feel like his intentions weren't totally chivalrous.

I was a straight-A student. I'd spent the last three and a half years focused solely on my studies. I didn't go to parties. I didn't go to the bar in town. I didn't date. I was at Morhan on a full academic scholarship, and had been only seventeen when I came here as a freshmen. I wasn't one to give up a single minute of my time for a man, that was for sure.

I'd learned my lesson with Slate. It had been a blind date set up by Abigail and the guy she had been seeing at the time. Abigail hadn't known that her boyfriend's friend was actually a professor at Morhan, and I'd been shocked, and uncomfortable, when Slate walked into the cozy downtown Breles restaurant for the double date while I was spending a weekend away during the break in the summer semester.

Slate's attraction to me had been immediate and exaggerated. I hadn't felt anything for him but annoyance, and a major “ick."

Xander had only walked me to class, and now the fluttering in my heart wouldn't stop. He was hot, I could admit that. But I'd always been focused on my studies over dating. I wasn't going to get wrapped up in fleeting feelings now, especially being so close to graduation. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. I effectively pushed Xander out of my mind, and turned my attention back to the task at hand.

I looked up as the doors to the greenhouse opened and two school administrators stepped inside, dressed in suits. One of them lingered at the door, obviously afraid to take any further steps into the greenhouse lest he get soil on his shiny leather loafers. The only one, however, started walking toward my professor. He glanced at me as he passed by my table, narrowing his eyes.

I watched the man approach my professor and pull her aside, leaning toward her to talk discreetly into her ear. She paled, then looked confused, and began to argue with him.

I clicked my pen closed and slid it into the pocket of my apron, watching as the two of them continued to speak in low, inaudible tones. My classmates were watching with interest, and those closest to the conversation had begun to whisper, their eyes moving in my direction.

I bristled at the attention, glancing from my classmates to my professor, whose cheeks were flushed as she screwed her mouth into a tight line, eventually motioning in my direction.

Suddenly the administrator who had been talking to my professor was in front of my workspace.

“Lena? You're wanted in the dean's office, immediately," he said, then he motioned toward the door of the greenhouse. I bristled, looking at my professor for help.

“But I have another half hour of class–"

“Now," the man said sharply, which sent a jolt of unease up my spine. I quickly gathered my books, stuffing them into my backpack as the soft murmurs of speculation from my classmates began to grow in volume.

“Am I in trouble for something?" I asked as I followed the two administrators out the door and onto the pathway.

“Misconduct," the man with the shiny shoes said over his shoulder, smirking at me before turning forward again.

I flushed, clutching the straps of my backpack as we walked toward the main square.

There was only one explanation for this. Slate had made good on his promise. I would regret snubbing him, especially in front of Xander.