Alpha's Hidden Precious Luna-Chapter 185

Lily POV

The walk through the university halls felt endless, each step echoing my mounting dread about the confrontation that awaited me. By the time I reached the history lecturer’s office, my palms were sweating and my heart was racing—though whether from nerves about his reaction or the lingering trauma of what had happened with Kai, I couldn’t tell.

I stood in front of his door for what felt like an eternity, my hand raised to knock but unable to follow through. The brass nameplate—"Department of History"—seemed to mock me as I struggled to gather the courage to face his disappointment and anger.

What would I even say? That I’d lost track of time while having a romantic picnic with my mate? That I’d been so caught up in stolen moments of happiness that I’d completely forgotten my academic responsibilities? The truth sounded pathetic even in my own mind.

After several minutes of internal debate, I finally accepted that I was a coward. Whatever consequences awaited me would have to wait for another day. I couldn’t face his judgment right now, not when I was still emotionally raw from Kai’s rejection and the physical evidence of his curse hidden beneath makeup and silk.

I turned to leave, already mentally rehearsing the apology email I would send, when the sound of a door opening behind me froze me in place.

"Miss Stone."

The history lecturer’s voice was calm, almost conversational, but there was something in his tone that made me wince. I turned slowly to face him, finding him standing in his doorway with one eyebrow arched in what might have been amusement or exasperation.

His intelligent brown eyes swept over me in a quick but thorough assessment, taking in my hastily arranged appearance, the silk scarf around my neck, and probably the remnants of stress and tears I hadn’t been able to completely erase. I felt exposed under his scrutiny, as if he could see through every carefully constructed facade.

"Come in," he said simply, stepping back to allow me entrance.

I obeyed silently, entering into his office despite every instinct telling me to run. The familiar scent of leather and coffee that I’d found comforting before now seemed oppressive, adding to the weight of guilt pressing down on my shoulders.

"Sit on the couch this time," he instructed, gesturing toward the leather furniture arranged in a small seating area away from his desk. "You look like you might collapse if you try to maintain proper posture in a chair."

His observation was more accurate than I cared to admit. My legs felt unsteady, and the emotional exhaustion of the afternoon was catching up with me. I settled onto the edge of the couch, unable to relax fully into the cushions despite their obvious comfort.

The lecturer returned to his desk without another word, settling into his chair and immediately focusing on his work. His fingers moved efficiently between his laptop keyboard and the handwritten notes scattered across his desk, completely ignoring my presence as if I were just another piece of furniture.

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken tension. I found myself wringing my fingers in my lap, trying to decide whether I should apologize immediately or wait for him to acknowledge me. The seconds crawled by with agonizing slowness, each tick of the clock on his wall echoing loudly in the quiet room.

Minutes passed—five, ten, fifteen—and still he worked, his concentration apparently unbreakable. I began to wonder if this was some kind of psychological punishment, forcing me to sit in uncomfortable silence while contemplating my failures. If so, it was working. My anxiety increased with every passing moment, my imagination conjuring increasingly dire consequences for my absence.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally lifted his eyes from his laptop screen. His gaze settled on me with clinical detachment, studying my posture and expression with the same intensity he might give to a historical artifact of questionable provenance.

Without saying a word, he rose from his chair and walked to a printer in the corner of his office. The machine whirred to life, producing several sheets of paper that he collected and reviewed briefly before approaching me.

"Study this," he said, extending the papers toward me. "We’ll discuss it tomorrow."

I rose quickly from the couch, nearly stumbling in my haste to accept the assignment. The papers were warm from the printer, and I could see they contained detailed historical timelines and reading assignments—clearly prepared materials that represented significant time and effort on his part.

As soon as the papers were in my hands, he turned and began walking back toward his desk, dismissing me as efficiently as he had ignored me. The casual indifference stung more than outright anger would have.

"Sir," I called out, my voice smaller than I intended. "I’m sorry I was late. I lost track of time."

He stopped mid-stride and turned back to face me, letting out a sound that was half laugh, half scoff. "You lost track of time," he repeated, his tone making it clear what he thought of that excuse.

"Yes, and I know it’s not—"

"Miss Stone," he interrupted, his voice taking on the crisp, professional tone I remembered from our first class. "You are setting yourself up for failure."

"I don’t think that’s—"

"No," he cut me off again, more sharply this time. "You are behind on every piece of schoolwork, struggling to catch up on weeks of missed material, and you have the audacity to spend your afternoons frolicking around instead of prioritizing your education."

His words hit like physical blows, each one perfectly aimed at my insecurities about my academic performance. The worst part was that he wasn’t wrong. I had prioritized my time with Kai over my responsibilities, even knowing the precarious position my extended absence had put me in.

"You kept me waiting for two hours," he continued, his eyes flashing with what might have been genuine anger. "Two hours I could have spent on my own research, my own students who actually value the education they’re receiving." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"Please," I said, the word escaping as barely more than a whisper. "It won’t happen again. I promise."

"It better not," he replied coldly. "Because this is your last chance, Miss Stone. One more incident of this nature, and I’ll be withdrawing my offer to provide private tutoring. You can explain to the Faculty Dean why you failed to meet the requirements for staying enrolled."

The threat sent ice through my veins. Failing my courses would mean losing my place at the university, disappointing Luna Helen, and proving that I really wasn’t capable of handling the responsibilities that came with being Kai’s mate.

"I understand," I managed to say, clutching the assignment papers against my chest like a lifeline. "Thank you for giving me another chance."

He studied me for another long moment, his expression unreadable. "See that you don’t waste it," he said finally. "Now get out. I have real work to do."

I hurried toward the door, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere of disappointment and judgment. As I reached for the handle, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass panel—pale, shaken, with the silk scarf slightly askew around my bruised throat.

"Miss Stone," his voice stopped me just as I was about to leave.

I turned back, expecting another lecture or perhaps a final cutting remark.

Instead, he was looking at me with something that might have been concern. "That’s a lovely scarf," he said quietly. "Very... practical for this weather."

His eyes held mine for just a moment too long, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that he saw more than I wanted him to. But before I could analyze his expression further, he had already turned back to his desk, once again absorbed in his work.

I fled his office, my heart pounding as I navigated the empty hallways. Outside, the afternoon sun was setting, painting the campus in golden hues that should have been beautiful but only served to remind me how much time had passed, how much had gone wrong.