Page 32 of Even Werewolves Learn

If I’m being honest, I more than tracked her bookmark.

I read the book.

Well, not exactly this one. I bought an e-book version that was in English instead of French—Full Moon in Paris.

And I know where she is in the story now.

I know it should get interesting for me, especially since I can’t help but be amused at her choice of book.

It’s a werewolf romance.

And I might not really be a werewolf—I’m a wolf shifter—but that’s still what humans have been calling us since we arrived on earth.

There’s a good reason for that. Other than the fact that we both change into wolves, I mean.

The knot.

That’s something the human stories have gotten right.

I don’t know if it’s Constance’s first wolf romance or if she’s used to it, but something inside of me is very interested in knowing what her body’s reaction will be to the knotting scene that’s coming.

My cock. That “something” is obviously my cock.

I take a picture of her book with my holo, and it scans it to tell me where she’s at in the book.

Page one hundred and sixty-eight.

Exactly one page before Wolfe—yes, the author was very subtle with that name—throws Eleanor on the bed. And makes her come around his knot.

Perfect.

17

Constance

“‘It was a cold night, and Wolfe could see Eleanor’s nipples pointing through her light-blue dress despite the fact that he had lit a fire in the room. Or maybe it had nothing to do with the coldness, and everything to do with the way Eleanor was currently devouring him with her eyes. He had not planned to take her into his room tonight, but she had insisted that she was scared and that she couldn’t sleep in her room because of the howling she had heard the night before. His howling. The full moon was only a day away, and it was taking a toll on him. With her so close, he had to go for a run the night before, or he would have stormed her room. But now she was here, in his room, wearing that indecent dress that left nothing to the imagination, and all he could think about was closing his lips around the peaked tips and sinking his teeth into her breasts to mark her. But he couldn’t do it. At least not until she knew exactly what it would mean for him, what it would mean for them. If he marked her, she was his until the end of time. If he marked her, she would have to take his knot, and he didn’t know if her body was ready for that.’”

Louis is reading something on his holo, and it has me raising my face to look at him, curious. I’m ashamed to say that it takes me over a minute to realize that he’s been reading my book. Out loud.

Wait. How does he know?

Not that I was really hiding the book in question, but he didn’t seem to care up until now.

Except, he’s reading the exact same page I’m on. And I could use the fact that the language I’m reading it in is different to explain why I don’t recognize the story immediately, but truly, I’m mesmerized by his deep voice reading the story like he’s the main male character more than anything else.

“What are you doing?” I ask, slightly appalled, because I know where the book is going.

Eleanor isn’t afraid. She uncovered two chapters ago what exactly Wolfe was, and she has been trying to find a way for him to stop avoiding her and to finally sleep with her.

It’s been building up for at least five chapters, and I know exactly where this is going.

Some part of me also knows I shouldn’t have opened the book during detention. I was already horny as hell after that single kiss on the side of my neck, and I knew what was coming in the book.

I couldn’t help myself, though.

If I can’t come at the hands of Louis, then the next best thing would have to be to ride that climax by proxy. Through Eleanor.

Louis doesn’t answer me. Instead, he keeps reading.