I might have thought he was homeless, maybe looking for a handout, but he wasn’t dressed in rags. In fact, he had on a suit and tie and his brown hair was meticulously styled. Behind his wire frame glasses, his eyes were a golden-green color. He appeared to be somewhere around 40, I thought, but a very fit 40, like maybe he went to the gym every day.
“Hello, Lady Anastasia.” He bowed to me—actually bowed like we were at Court together or something—and came up smiling. “It’s very good to meet you at last.”
“I, uh…” I took a step back, wishing he wasn’t between me and my car. “Do…do I know you?” I thought he looked familiar somehow, though I couldn’t place where I’d seen him.
“No, but I know you,” he told me. “I’m Professor Sorenson,” he added. “I teach Arcane Studies at JMU.”
“Oh—maybe that’s where I’ve seen you—on campus.” I smiled weakly. Even if I sort of knew him, I still didn’t like being alone in the dark, deserted parking lot with him. “Uh, it’s nice to meet you,” I added. “I don’t think I’ve ever taken any of your classes—I’m a Nursing major. I’m going to work in the NICU when I get my nursing degree,” I added.
With a major like that, it was pretty clear I wasn’t going to need to take any classes in “Arcane Studies” whatever that was. I hoped Professor Sorenson would take the hint, but he didn’t—he just kept talking.
“The NICU, hmm? You must love babies then,” he said, smiling broadly.
“I’ve always loved babies and always wanted to work with them,” I said honestly. “That’s been my dream since I was little.” Again hoping he’d get the hint that I didn’t want to take his class. But his next question caught me off guard.
“So I imagine you must want babies—children—of your own some day,” he said, as though that was a given thing. “Maybe even very soon.”
“Er…I guess so—not too soon, though. I have to finish my degree first, of course.”
I shifted uneasily, taking a step back from him. It was weird enough to meet a professor from my school in the middle of a deserted parking lot at night—it was even weirder that he was asking about my reproductive plans for the future—the near future.
“Good—that’s very good to hear,” he said, nodding. “Now, let me ask you this, Anastasia—what if I told you that any babies you had would be deformed—their blood polluted—unless you chose the right father for them?”
“What?” I took another step back. “What are you talking about? Are you trying to ask me to have your babies or something?” I demanded. “Because that’s really creepy—I don’t even know you!”
Professor Sorenson looked shocked—his gold/green eyes widened behind his wire-rimmed glasses.
“Have my babies? Of course not! My blood isn’t worthy to be mixed with the Royal Line! I mean, I’m an Alpha, but I don’t have the blood of the First Wolf in my veins. No, my dear, you are a Royal Omega—you must be bred by a Royal Alpha in order to carry on your esteemed lineage.”
His voice had assumed a lecturing tone, as though I was sitting in his classroom and he was giving me information that might be on the next exam.
“You see,” he said, “Long ago a prophecy was given by a witch of estimable power. She foretold that the day the blood of the First Wolf vanished from the Earth, the power of all of us regular Weres would be dimmed and diminished and our kind would eventually die out. And we can’t have that, now can we?” His eyes gleamed as he asked me the question.
He was crazy—absolutely crazy, I thought, feeling my heart begin to race. Behind his urbane good looks, he was as insane as my stepfather, Marcus. And clearly, he had bought into the same cultish ideas.
“I…I don’t know what you mean,” I told him, taking another step back. “So just leave me alone!”
“Ah, but I can’t do that, my dear.”
I had backed a good five feet from him by this time—hoping I could get far enough away to turn and run back to the safety of the diner. But suddenly he was right in front of me—right in my face. How had he moved so fast?
“Hey, let go of me!” I gasped as he grabbed me by the arm.
“Not until you understand your duty!” His eyes were blazing into mine like poison green flames. “You must be bred by an Alpha of the Royal Line! Do you understand?”
“No! I don’t understand anything you’re saying and I don’t want to understand!” I shouted in his face. “What’s wrong with you? Are you a member of the same cult as my stepfather?”
His face hardened.
“No! For your stepfather—the one who should by rights be our king and the Alpha of our pack—has eschewed his responsibilities to the continuation of the Were line. He produced only one son and heir and he shows no signs of making that heir continue the Royal Line as he should.”