Chapter 112

Ollie’s POV

It was nice to be able to shift, if only for a few minutes for Professor Hunter to get his tests done. Yet, after a shift, I always feel a little disheveled. I have no idea how people can shift back into their human form and be totally put together again, not needing to even fix their hair.

“I do appreciate everything, Professor,” I say. “I’ve never felt hope like this in a –”

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!” comes a familiar, accusatory voice from behind me.

I turn in time to see Hugh storm towards us. He walks right by me, moving to Hunter instead. He grabs Professor Hunter by the front of his shirt, his eyes flashing red, his voice a growl.

“Is this how you welcome new students?” Hugh demands. “You bring them to your office and have your way with them?”

“I’ve done nothing of the sort,” Professor Hunter says, his surprise clear on his face with his wide eyes and his skin paling slightly. “You are misunderstanding the situation.”

“I know what I see!” Hugh says gruffly.

Immediately, I move, trying to wedge myself between the two men. Placing my hand on Hugh’s shoulder, I face him, hoping to get him to look at me.

“Stay out of this, Ollie,” Hugh growls, still focusing on Hunter.

“It’s not what you think, Hugh,” I tell him. “The professor was helping me with something. There’s nothing else going on.”

In a flash, Hugh’s intense focus shifts, falling on me, and immediately I feel overwhelmed, trapped in the laser ray of his vision.

Yet I push myself through the mixture of feelings I’m enduring – the touch of fear and the roar of arousal – to maintain my senses enough to speak, “Hugh, please. Calm down.”

I have no reason to believe my words will reach him. None of the quadruplets are great listeners, especially to me. At least they haven’t been before. Now, though, as I say the words, I’m surprised to find that they seem to get through to him, at least in part.

Slowly, the red in his eyes starts to fade. He seems confused by this, perhaps by my ability to calm him, but no one is more confused than I am.

I’ve heard that mates can have this effect on each other, that the presence of one could help center the feelings of the other, but it still seems so unusual to see such a thing actually happen.

With me and Hugh.

“What was he helping you with?” Hugh asks, his voice less grumbly now, but no less intense.

I think of lying, and must, in part. But I also find myself wanting to tell him the truth, or at least as much of it as I am able.

Swallowing hard, I chose my words carefully, “Professor Hunter is a master of genetics. I’m hoping he can help me uncover who I really am.”

I don’t mention my wolf, but there’s no lie in my words.

Hugh studies my face, as if searching for one. At last, with a huff, he pushes Professor Hunter away.

“Get lost,” he says to the professor, “Before I change my mind.”

Professor Hunter stumbles backwards. He catches himself on the wall, then looks over to me. “Ollie?”

“I’m fine,” I tell him.

Hunter nods, then, with some reluctance, turns and walks down the hallway, finally obeying the order from one of his Alpha Kings.

The moment Hunter is gone, Hugh turns to me, wraps his arms around my waist, and yanks me against his chest. Gently, he lowers his face to the corner of my neck and shoulder and lightly scents me.

“You are hiding again,” he says.

A slight panic rises within me. What does he mean by that? No way he knows that I am also Angel.

Although, when I shifted, my true scent had shown through. I didn’t consider at the time that any of the brothers might have been near enough to smell it.

“You don’t need to hide…” he whispers.

Fear coursing through me, I want to pull away from him, yet I find myself unable to do so. As much as I want to flee from him, I also want to burrow closer, to accept his words and the promises they whisper of.

But how can I trust him? How can I trust any of them? Since Sylvia’s arrival, they’ve never showed me any affection as Ollie. If they were to learn the truth, if Sylvia disliked it, what was to stop them from just casting me to the side?

Or worse.

No, I can’t reveal myself… But my foolish heart and even more foolish wolf beg me to ask questions better left unasked.

“Hypothetically,” I start. “If I was your mate… Not saying that I am…”

He hums lightly in acknowledgement, giving me the courage I need to proceed.

“How would you react?” I ask. “I’m still just Ollie. I’m still me.”

Hugh’s hands tighten on my waist, keeping me locked against him like I had any kind of desire to be anywhere else.

“If you are our mate,” Hugh says, “then you would belong to us. We would keep you safe and protected…”

“Locked away?” I ask.

He hums again, more pleasantly this time. “You would want for nothing.”

“Except freedom.”

“What need would there be for freedom? Everything you could ever want would be provided to you, with you chained to our beds.”

Being chained to their beds could be fun for a while, but as a forever plan? Eventually I would want to be my own person, do my own things, and live my own life. My idea of perfect mates are those that would be equals.

With the quadruplets, I would never be anything but lesser.

Placing my hands on Hugh’s shoulder, I give him a slight shove. He allows it, stepping back enough to look in my face.

I frown at him. “I’m not the person you want me to be, Hugh,” I tell him point blank. That part isn’t a lie, though the next words I force out are, “I’m not your mate.”

The shock of the first set of words seems to distract him from the dishonesty of the second.

“Let me go,” I tell him.

To my surprise, he does so. His face hardens a little as he looks away from me. “My mistake,” he says.

I force myself not to clarify, not to try to soften the blow. Everything within me is drawn toward this man, but for my own good, I must force myself to move in the opposite direction.

I think the first step away will be the hardest, but each following step is equally as difficult.

He stays still in the hallway as I put the distance between us, leaving him.

Hugh’s POV

I’d been so sure that Ollie was my mate. I’d smelled Angel, followed the scent to the source, and found Ollie in a compromising situation with Hunter. Even after dealing with Hunter, even with my mate’s scent vanished, I still felt drawn to Ollie.

Now, at the bar downing shot after shot, I am no less confused by my own reaction.

Why do I so firmly believe that Ollie is Angel, when there is direct evidence to the contrary, and when Ollie herself denies it? Wouldn’t she want to be found, as our mate?

I’m so confused. None of this makes sense, and yet…

A feminine hand lands on my forearm. I follow the length of the arm and up to the bedroom eyes of a willing female. I’ve been with her before, I think. I’ve been with so many women, it’s difficult to keep track of them all.

“Have some time for fun, Alpha?” she asks.

It would be so easy to fall into the warmth between her thighs and forget about everything but pleasure for a while.

Yet, even in imagining myself finding pleasure, the only woman my mind provides for me is Ollie. It’s her thighs I want to push apart and slide between.

Gods, what’s wrong with me?

“No,” I tell the woman, then wave down the bartender. “Another drink.”

I’ll drown myself in alcohol. Whatever it takes to get over this foolish notion.

Ollie can’t be Angel. And I need to get over that idea.