Michael’s POV
"Mate," Draxen repeated.
I frowned almost imperceptibly. "Don’t be ridiculous."
"I’m certain."
"She’s human," I tried to remind him, but there was no hesitation in his voice.
"She is our mate."
For the first time in centuries, Draxen’s certainty caught me completely off guard. Impossible. Everything about Emerald Hugo was human.
Her heartbeat, her breathing, even her scent. Nothing about her suggested she possessed werewolf blood.
"You’re reacting to her perfume," I said to Draxen. It was the only explanation that made sense.
"No." He rejected the idea immediately. "I know our mate."
My eyes remained on Emerald, but my thoughts were elsewhere. No. This wasn’t possible. Neither Draxen nor I had ever reacted to a woman’s scent before. Not once.
A Primogen’s wolf could only recognize his fated mate. And a Primogen’s mate could only be a female werewolf. That had been the law of our kind for as long as I had lived.
Emerald Hugo was not a werewolf. She couldn’t be.
"Enough." My tone became firmer. "You’re mistaken."
Draxen fell silent. Whether out of obedience or disagreement, I couldn’t tell. I slowly exhaled before forcing my attention back to the present.
Whatever had just happened... I would think about it later.
I kept my expression unchanged. Fortunately, Emerald appeared not to notice anything unusual. I reached for the assignment lying on my desk.
"I’ve finished reviewing your report."
She straightened slightly in her chair. "Yes, Professor."
"I was impressed."
A flicker of surprise crossed her face before disappearing almost as quickly as it had appeared.
"You approached the case differently from most of your classmates." I opened the report. "Many students focused on deciding whether the acquisition should proceed, but you questioned whether management possessed sufficient information to make the decision in the first place."
She nodded. "I didn’t think the figures alone justified reaching a conclusion."
"Neither did I." I looked down at the report. "You identified several risks others overlooked, and you also proposed practical ways of reducing uncertainty without delaying the decision unnecessarily."
She listened quietly.
"The assignment wasn’t designed to produce a correct answer. It was designed to reveal how each student thinks." I looked back at her. "Your reasoning interested me."
"Thank you, Professor."
"There are, however, several areas where your analysis could become stronger." I turned the report towards her, pointing to one of the paragraphs. "Here."
Then, I quickly continued, "You reached the correct conclusion. But you moved from one assumption to another without explaining the reasoning that connected them."
She leaned forward slightly. "I see."
"If this were presented to an investment committee, someone would almost certainly ask how you arrived there."
She nodded again. "I understand."
"For an experienced executive, that explanation may seem obvious, but for everyone else, it isn’t."
"I will remember that," she said.
For the next several minutes, we discussed different sections of her report. Unlike many students, she didn’t attempt to defend every point she had written.
She listened carefully before asking concise questions whenever she disagreed or wanted clarification.
The discussion flowed naturally. Emerald was trying to improve. My opinion of her continued to rise. But a sudden vibration from her handbag interrupted the conversation.
Neither of us reacted at first. I continued explaining another section of her report. The vibration stopped, but a few seconds later, it started again. This time, I closed the report and looked at her.
"You should answer it."
"I’m sorry, Professor." She reached into her bag and took out her phone. The moment she looked at the screen, her countenance changed.
The calm composure she had maintained throughout our discussion gave way to unmistakable concern.
She immediately stood. "Please excuse me, Professor. This call is urgent. I’ll have to take it."
I gave a small nod. "Go ahead."
"Thank you." She hurried towards the door.
Just before stepping into the corridor, I heard her answer the call. "Grandpa..." Then the door closed softly behind her.
I leaned back in my chair, interlocking my fingers as I waited. So... the call had come from Hugo Group’s patriarch.
Considering everything I knew about Emerald’s circumstances, her reaction made perfect sense. There had been concern in her voice.
Whatever relationship existed between grandfather and granddaughter, it clearly wasn’t one maintained out of obligation alone.
Less than a minute later, there was another knock.
"Come in."
Emerald stepped back into the office. "I’m sorry, Professor." She returned to her seat. "My grandfather needed to speak with me."
"There’s no need to apologize," I let her know.
She put her phone away before directing her full attention towards me once again. Although she appeared composed, I noticed the subtle changes immediately.
Her heartbeat was faster than before, and the scent of fear lingered faintly beneath her perfume.
Something had happened. Whatever her grandfather had told her, it had unsettled her.
It wasn’t my place to ask, so I returned her assignment. "As I was saying, your conclusions were sound. What you need to strengthen is the path you take to reach them."
I summarised the remaining comments, highlighting two areas for improvement and one recommendation for future case analyses.
She listened attentively, though I could tell part of her attention remained elsewhere.
"There are very few first submissions that leave a lasting impression." I closed the file. "Yours did."
A small genuine smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, Professor. I will work on the areas you’ve mentioned."
"I’ve no doubt you will."
She accepted the assignment with both hands before standing. "Thank you for taking the time to go through it with me."
"You’re welcome."
After she left, silence settled over the office once more, my gaze resting on the closed door.
My thoughts should have been on her phone call, the fear I had sensed, and the sudden change in her expression after she returned.
Normally, I would have ignored the issue as irrelevant. However, I found myself curious about what actually occurred.
My focus gradually moved to something that made even less sense. Mate.
The word surfaced in my mind once again. I frowned.
No. Draxen had been wrong. He had to be. Everything about Emerald Hugo confirmed it. And None of it supported the impossible conclusion my wolf had reached.
And yet, one fact continued to trouble me.
In all the centuries we had lived together, Draxen had never mistaken another woman for our mate. Not once.
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes briefly. There had to be another explanation. There was no other possibility.
Because if Draxen was right... then everything I knew about our kind was wrong.