Free Running with Wolves (Shifter Country Wolves Book 1) by Roxie Noir Page A

the syllabus.

    After class, the students trickled out and Elliott stuffed papers back into his briefcase, preparing to head back to his office, drop them off, and then go home so he could change before the pack meeting. If he showed up in slacks and a sportcoat, they’d probably figure out that he hadn’t been working on a farm all day.
    “Professor Whiting?” said a woman’s voice. Elliott knew who it was before he even looked up.
    “Yes,” he said.
    It was the wolf student, and she stood nervously on the other side of the desk, drumming her fingers on the wooden surface.
    “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be taking a couple of absences toward the end of October,” she said. “Family trip that my husband says I can’t get out of.”
    She gave a little shrug.
    “Sure,” he said. “I don’t have a problem excusing pre-arranged absences.”
    “Thanks,” she said, and nodded her head stiffly.
    Then she waited another moment. Elliott wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but stood there, certain that she was about to say something.
    “I’m Tamara Sorenson, by the way,” she said, almost like she was holding her breath.
    Then she let it out, in a rush.
    “It’s so great that you’re teaching this class,” she said in one exhale. “I feel so much better about going back to school now, my husbands thought it was dumb but my kids said to go for it, and look, here I am!”
    Elliott smiled and nodded. He couldn’t imagine going back to college in his mid-thirties. It sounded daunting.  
    “Glad to have you in class,” he said.
    “See you Thursday,” Tamara said. Then she turned around and left the classroom, practically humming.
    I might see you tonight, Elliott thought. I’ve got a feeling .

Chapter Eight

    Shane

    Shane stood back and cracked his knuckles, staring at the dresser. His knees were bruised from kneeling on them for so long. Plus, he’d managed to kneel on a screw already today, which had left a painful, dark purple dot right in the middle of his kneecap.
    Also, there was something wrong with the dresser. The drawers seemed to sag, leaving a gap between the top of the drawer and the top of the hole for the drawer, and Shane had no idea what he’d done wrong, putting it together.
    Why did we take all our furniture apart to move it? he wondered for at least the hundredth time that day. What the hell were we thinking?
    He could feel the rage, borne of frustration, starting to swell inside him. The way Shane visualized it, it was a red cloud, black around the edges, and it moved like smoke.
    The key to that visualization was that it also dissipated like smoke. The idea was that Shane breathed deep, and each breath helped to waft the imaginary smoke-anger further away from him. He’d thought it was impossibly stupid the first time he’d tried it, but then it had turned out to actually kind of work.
    I wish I’d told my job I’d start today, he thought. Working outdoors is exactly the right thing to counter furniture frustration with .
    He opened his eyes. The dresser was still there, and still fucked up, a handful of small plastic parts and screws lying scattered in front of it.
    I’m going to have to take the whole thing back apart, he thought. Why didn’t we at least keep the instructions?
    A car drove up their long driveway, and Shane peeked out the window, then dropped the extra pieces into a dresser drawer and went downstairs to greet his mate.

    “And how was school?” Shane said, coming into the living room. Elliott stood in the doorway, looking around.
    “Good,” he said. “There’s less boxes.”
    “That’s because I spent the day unpacking. Elliott, we’re never moving again,” he said, his voice serious.
    Elliott laughed.
    “Not a joke,” Shane said. “I don’t care if we find a mate and have twelve kids. We’ll stack ‘em like cordwood, because I am not moving again .”
    Elliott grinned and leaned forward, kissing his mate on the