One Night With My Alpha Professor by Eve Above Story

Chapter 276

Edwin

It was a quiet day at the estate. The first touches of winter were reaching the barren treetops outside, the scent of cold air permeating the house.

I’d needed a little time to myself, so I had made an impromptu weekend trip out here. Audrey had decided to stay at the apartment, claiming that she still had more work to do for the fashion show on Monday. But really, I knew she was just agonizing over tiny details.

Not that I minded a little time alone.

I stood in the exercise room, staring blankly at the punching bag in front of me. Did I really want to do this?

It felt dangerous to get back into boxing, especially without Audrey here to ground me. But since I’d gotten here last night, I couldn’t stop feeling the pull to my boxing gloves. I think that was really why I came, after all.

Like my body was yearning for the sort of release that only the punching bag could give me. And I think even Audrey knew that, which was really why she hadn’t come.

“Alright,” I muttered under my breath, slipping the gloves on and flexing my hands beneath the leather. “Let’s see if I remember how this goes.”

I started with a few hesitant jabs, pulling each punch. The bag barely moved, and inside, I felt my wolf growling annoyedly at my weakness.

Sighing, I took a step back, rolled my shoulders, and let out a slow breath. Memories surfaced, unbidden–the endless hours I’d spent in the gym when I was younger, trying to impress a father who only saw what he wanted to see. A strong son. An obedient son. An angry, cruel son.

A son just like him.

I gritted my teeth, pushing those thoughts away, and landed a harder punch. The bag jolted back. So did I. The sting in my knuckles wasn’t something I had missed much over the years, but it woke something up inside of me.

Before I knew it, one punch was turning into another, and another. The world outside the gym faded away; it was just me and that old punching bag and nothing else.

As the flow came back, I felt it–the energy, the intensity, that spark that had always been there. And with it came the part of me I had buried for so long; the bright–eyed kid who just wanted to fight and impress his father.

Only this time, I didn’t care if I impressed him. I was almost glad that I had never filled the mold he wanted me to fill so badly.

punch, harder than any of the others, and the bag swung back, the chain vibrating with the impact. I

turned, there was someone standing in the doorway, arms crossed,

off my gloves. “The hell are

you still had it in you,” he said, sounding a little

bottle. “I guess it’s like riding a bike. You

chug, water dribbling down my chin,

told me you were here,” he said. “Someone wants to

Chapter 276

answer, Peter stepped aside. Another figure stepped into view: taller and stockier, but unmistakably

Malakai.

with a heart of ice. The one who had never stood up against our parents, not even when it

are you doing

shifted on his

came to talk,” he said quietly, his gaze meeting

moment. “Just to talk.

I should laugh, yell, or just walk away from him. He had to have been here

as if sensing my trepidation, shook

nodded, gesturing for Malakai to follow us upstairs to the kitchen. I kicked my sneakers off by the kitchen door as we entered, waving my hand toward the

Yeah,” Malakai said. “Coffee

our hands. I kept it bitter,

looked around for a moment, as if he couldn’t bear to look at me. Although whether that was from fear, indignation, or something else, I couldn’t be sure. I just

he seemed to settle on staring at the mug between his

he started, his voice hoarse. “I know I’ve been… a bastard. A coward. I don’t expect you

my chair, arms crossed over my chest.

did anything. Why I never stood

them–of Dad, especially. The way Mom tormented us…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I stayed in line because I was afraid of what happened to you happening to me. But I know it doesn’t make up for the fact

us, raw and heavy. I glanced at Peter, who just lifted

honestly still waiting for him to drop some hammer on me–maybe ask for money or

looked back at me, his eyes filled with something I