Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 501

Chapter 3: I'm Being Expelled?

*Lena*

The dean's office was located on the edge of campus, situated on the shore of the massive lake that separated the small city of Morhan from the sprawling metropolis of Breles. I could see the water from where I sat. The deep blue water was glistening beyond the ceiling-height windows in the dean's office, blocked by the figure of Assistant Dean Redmon, who was seated behind the dean's desk.

"Dean Weatherford couldn't be here today," Assistant Dean Redmon murmured, flipping a page of the file he was holding-my file. I could see my name printed at the top.

"Why am I here?" I asked, stifling the tremble in my voice. I'd never been in trouble at school before, not once in my entire life.

The assistant dean glanced up at me, his eyes fixated on mine for a moment. He was an older man, slight of build with short, wispy Slate hair. But his eyes, a strange sea- green color, were kind, which I was thankful for. He looked somewhat sorry for me as he glanced down at his watch and then turned his focus toward the door.

"There was a report of misconduct between you and an adjunct professor."

I knew it. I'd had a glimmer of hope that whoever had made the report had made it against Slate, and I was only here to corroborate it and give my side of the story.

But to my horror, Slate walked through the door, looking as smug as could be. He leaned against the wall, facing me with a smirk on his face. Assistant Dean Redmon looked him up and down before sighing heavily and turning his attention to my file once more.

"Morhan College's code of ethics firmly states that students and professors are strictly forbidden from entering into any kind of intimate relationship. You signed the code of ethics, Lena, so I'm not going to ask you if you're familiar-"

"I know," I said firmly, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.

"Slate Tamlin reported to Dean Weatherford that you have made several advances toward him over the last quarter, including waiting outside the first-year building for his classes to dismiss, if this is correct?"

I almost choked. I looked from Assistant Dean Redmon to Slate.

"I'm sorry, what?“

"Professor Tamlin," Slate corrected, looking down at his manicured fingernails. "It's professor-"

"Is it true, Lena, that you have been pursuing a romantic relationship with-"

my knuckles white. "Whatever Professor Tamlin told you is not even close to the truth. I'd like to talk to you privately, Dean Redmon, please?" My voice was shaking, but at the moment I

offense," Slate said smugly, turning his eyes back

Tamlin, not in the slightest. In fact, I've been trying to avoid him at all costs. He shows up at

mouth shut, breathing heavily through my nose as I glanced over at Slate. He looked somewhat nervous

began, but Assistant Dean Redmon waved his

forth against you, Professor Tamlin. For now, I'd like to speak to her alone." It wasn't a question, and I could

to me alone. He'd probably asked to be here,

back in his face by telling the

last parting look of marked disapproval before slamming the door

swallowed hard, looking up at Assistant Dean Redmon

you and Professor Tamlin?" he asked, sighing as he closed my file. He

I wasn't interested in taking things further. I denied any advances he made toward me during that weekend, which was over the summer break, and... when I came back to campus, he continued to bother me. He has recently started showing up at the apartment I share with my roommates, throwing pebbles at my window

along my lower lip,

I'm not twenty-one yet, but I know he is not my mate, and won't be when

ran his

to work on campus, then?" I stammered, shocked by the

blood. Slate Tamlin has been a problem for years, but this is the first time he’s come forward

can you do about it?" I tried to hide the desperation in my voice,

head in defeat. "The dean has already put in for

feeling the tears begin to well in my eyes. "I can't transfer! I'm supposed to graduate in December. I have my last final next week. The botany program in Mirage

whatever courses they require in

my chair again, ready to get on my knees and

in for Red Lakes; I'd be gone for six weeks. I wouldn't need to come back to campus again after that, Assistant Dean

and it will likely be Slate Tamlin who starts it-we'll have no choice but to place the blame on someone, and that someone is

and Assistant Dean Redmon noticed. He let out

the final set up for tomorrow,

I exclaimed, absolutely beside myself with excitement. But my excitement was quickly turned to dread as he turned from the

I'm afraid. They only take the most prestigious students, those who've earned it, with clean records. This matter with Slate Tamlin eliminates you from the program,

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