Mated To My Best Friend's Lycan Alpha Brothers

(Author’s POV)

”Then, I will be taking my leave,” she didn’t even wait for him to say anything, just turned around and scurried inside. With all the things going around her, Myra was really sensitive about any unknown person approaching her.

Especially this man, whom she has never seen, whose presence felt ominous to her. She could tell there was something off about him or his boss, Mr. Brian Tape.

Lost in a web of her thoughts, Myra stepped inside the class. Everyone was busy in their own groups, chit chatting, prattling. Nobody seemed to have noticed her until then.

Shelly, when she spotted Myra, she waved at her, but Myra was still deeply engrossed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice at all. With no choice left, Shelly called her out, a bit loud, ”MYRA~ MYRA~ .... HERE... OVER HERE,”

Myra’s train of thought snapped, and she was pulled back to reality by the sudden voice. She glanced around to find Shelly still waving enthusiastically and calling to her, ”Myra~ .... Here. Come here.”

Everyone’s attention was fixed on her. The entire classroom, each and every eye, traced her presence, monitoring her closely, much like scrutinising her. But she still pretended to stay calm, showcasing no emotion on her face as she made her way towards Shelly and settled beside her.

”Mornin’~ ....” Shelly greeted, giving her a toothy, vibrant smile. Myra nodded in return, ”Morning, Shelly.”

”You didn’t come yesterday. Why? Was there an emergency or something?” Shelly inquired.

”Ummhmm~ .... one of my close acquaintances was admitted to the hospital. I went to visit them,” Myra told her the reason. She didn’t mention Fabian’s because, first, there would be even more gossip if someone were to hear that, and second, Fabian might not feel comfortable with a third person knowing about his hospital stay.

”Ohhh~ .... and I thought~ .... nevermind,” Shelly mumbled, but held her tongue.

To be honest, she thought, Myra took a day off because of the unpleasant chatter going around the campus about her. After all, the entire Red Stone had seen the images, and everyone was talking about either this or about Chairman Larson’s plane crash or was invested in his health updates.

Two seats behind them, a group of boys was spouting vague remarks, ”Some woman, tut-tut, tut-tut. They are such gold diggers, I tell you. It makes me feel so~ ... repulsive.”

”What are you saying, dude. Gold diggers are a lot better, but what’s repugnant is that some have the audacity of being, how should I say it~ .... umm~ .... rhodium excavator,” another one spoke.

”Hahaha~ ... rhodium excavator, what’s even that?” the third one asked.

”It’s for the ones who aren’t even aware of their own place but are trying to reach the stars. Those delulus beings,” he replied. ”Seducing a renowned, prodigy professor here and attempting to get into a famous, genius business personality’s pants there. What boldness. What ambition.”

Shelly was about to confront them, but Myra, from under the table, held her hand, signalling her to let it be. Myra, as always, took out her books very calmly from her bag and placed the stationery, just like always. She was good at pretending. Pretending that none of this was for her. She didn’t want to give any of the gossipmongers any satisfaction.

Things like this would always die down when they don’t get a reaction. They will simply get bored and eventually drop it.

Shelly glanced at Myra’s composed demeanour and licked her lower lip guiltily. Then, as if to comfort her, she said softly, ”Don’t mind the nasty talk. They are just showing their own dirty mindset. Spouting nothing but pig manure. They probably are outing the diarrhea of their mouth.”

Myra couldn’t help but chuckle at her weird expletives.

Soon, Oswald Mitchell strode inside the class. As soon as he entered, the whispers, the chatters died down completely, and everyone returned to their respective seats. The class began.

______________________

”That’s it for today,” Oswald Mitchell declared.

”Wuffff~ .... didn’t this lecture last longer than expected. I thought I would drop dead any minute,” Shelly exaggerated, her eyes drooping.

Myra mumbled, checking the time, ”Yeah~ .... It probably did.” She then showed Shelly her phone screen.

”HOLY~ ...” Shelly, who was about to curse publicly, held her tongue. She then whispered, ”HOLY SHIT. Prof. Mitchell is really a devil. Who teaches for one hour and forty five minutes straight? And today, his mood seems awful as hell. Someone must have pissed him off. Let’s not get in his way today.”

”Ms. Miracle~ ....” Oswald, with a void expression, called her.

”Yes~ .... yes, Prof. Mitchell,” Myra got up and asked. She was a little flustered.

”I need you in my office in five.” Saying his piece in a stern tone, he departed the class.

Hearing his orders, Myra started packing her bag frantically. Shelly helped her with her books, and just like that, they parted ways.

Myra rushed out of her class. Ignoring all the tittle tattle going on, she hurried out of her department and ran towards the professor’s building.

Even there, the mud slinging continued. The professors who passed her by gave her displeased looks, while the teaching assistants and other students, they were full-on, lambasting her without any regard.

This~ .... actually, was starting to get on her nerves now. She felt really uncomfortable. The pictures, the rumours, the added gossip, they were blown out of proportion without any viable context. Something seemed odd about it.

She evened out her breathing and headed towards Oswald Mitchell’s private office. On the way there, she kept on chanting in her head, ’This too shall pass. This too shall pass. Myra~ ... don’t bother with this. It is just a mere hearsay.’

Standing outside her professor’s office, she knocked twice before a cold, aloof voice came from inside, ”Come in.”

Setting foot inside Prof. Mitchell’s office, Myra suddenly felt an oppressive feeling. Nevertheless, she closed the door and stood in front of Oswald, saying, ”Prof Mitchell. You called for me.”

To Be Continued . . . . . . .