Werewolf U

by Brenna Lyons

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Blurbs

  Copyright Statement

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  The Ancient Rites

  About the Author

  Also by this Author

  Award-Winning Books

  Blurbs

  Samara will do anything she can to free herself from her mother's clutches. When she qualifies for a free ride at Lupi Lucania, her life falls apart. All she has left is the father who raised her and an unknown future at Werewolf U.

  Samara has been given a full scholarship to Lupi Lucania Universitas Scholarium in Italy. It's a dream come true. The university is one of the best in the world, and she intends to make the most of it. What she doesn't count on is two very distracting brothers who have a different idea of advancing her education than she does.

  Usually she-wolves come to the University with full knowledge of Lupine history and traditions. James and Jason will have to teach their little mate everything. Born to a human who refused to take her wolf mate permanently into her life, Samara is nothing like what the duo envisioned...and more than they ever hoped for.

  Fireborn Publishing Copyright Statement

  Werewolf U

  Copyright © 2015 by Brenna Lyons

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-943528-00-4

  First eBook Publication: October 2015

  Cover Artist: Brenna Lyons

  Photo Credit: 123rf

  Editor: Monti Shalosky

  Proofreader: Kathy Kozakewich

  Logo copyright © 2014 by Fireborn Publishing and Allison Cassatta

  Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED UNDER INTERNATIONAL AND PAN-AMERICAN COPYRIGHT CONVENTIONS: Payment for this title grants the purchaser the right to download and read this file on any/all personal electronic devices personally owned by the purchaser, now or in the future, and to maintain backup copies of the file for the purchaser's personal use. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or electronic storage and retrieval, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. File sharing, with or without payment, is an international crime, prosecuted by the United States DoJ, Division of Cyber Crimes, in partnership with Interpol. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by seizure of computers, up to five years in federal prison, and a fine of $250,000 per offense.

  Please remember that authors are paid per legal purchase. We thank you for your support of author’s rights and their earnings. If you spot illegal cut-rate or free copies of this work being passed on peer-to-peer or other pirate sites, even those masquerading as legitimate retailers, please let us know at sales@firebornpublishing.com or via the author’s personal email.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is strictly coincidental.

  This book is written in US English.

  PUBLISHER

  PO Box 5216

  Haverhill, MA 01835

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Boy Scouts of America: Boy Scouts of America Corporation

  Evil Dead: New Line Cinema

  Kmart: Sears Brands, LLC

  UMass Dartmouth: Board of Trustees of the University of Massachusetts

  Wal-Mart: Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.

  Chapter One

  "Samara Tyler?"

  She turned away from the UMass Dartmouth table at the college fair and eyed the well-dressed, silver-haired man in confusion. "Yes?" But what difference would it make to him? Moreover, how would he know her name?

  A smile lit his light brown eyes, and he offered his hand. "Pietro Galvani."

  Samara shook it. "I'm afraid I don't recognize your name," she admitted.

  Her cheeks flamed at that. Was she supposed to recognize it?

  He laughed heartily. "Nor should you." After a moment, he composed himself and gave her a cursory up and down assessment. "I have been talking to your counselor." His hand retreated.

  "Mr. Michaelson?" You mean he actually does something?

  "Quite. I notice you have not come to my table. I had hoped you would." Galvani made an expansive motion toward the far side of the room.

  "You did?"

  He tipped his head in agreement.

  "Which one is yours?" To her knowledge, Samara had already visited all the college tables that were suited to her choice of major. Well…all the ones I can afford, anyway.

  "Lupi Lucania Universitas Scholarium." A slight bow topped the announcement.

  Her mouth went dry and swallowing failed to wet it. Samara worked at clearing her throat. "Uh…there are a few problems with applying there."

  "Are there? Please…expound upon them for me?" In the meantime, he waved her toward a few empty seats along the wall.

  Once they were settled, Samara took a moment to order her thoughts. "The first problem is that I don't speak Italian, and I don't feel confident I can learn enough Italian in the next year to take college in another language."

  "You won't have to. We teach classes in ten languages, including English. You may want to learn Italian to interact in town, and we will assist you in that, but you don't have to do it to learn."

  Excitement lit in her chest at that revelation. It died just as quickly.

  "Another problem?" He guessed.

  Samara nodded. "I can't afford Lupi Lucania. Even if I got a scholarship that covered educational expenses, I can't afford room and board, the flights back and forth… I can't afford much of anything." Admitting that galled her, but it was better that he know her limitations up front. His school was one of the most expensive in the world. Even if her parents could afford it—and they couldn't—her mother would balk at spending the money on her.

  And she certainly won't cosign the loans either.

  "Ah, but European university education is much different than it is stateside. We have several scholarships designed for foreign students. Those scholarships include everything from tuition and fees to books, room and board, and even transportation and living expenses."

  Words stuck in her throat. No matter how hard she tried, Samara couldn't spit them out.

  "If you would like to take our entrance exam, we have one—"

  "Yes. Whenever. I'll be there."

  Galvani smiled widely. Then he offered her a cream-colored envelope with an ornate wax seal. Samara took it with shaking hands, stunned.

  "Two weeks from tomorrow, Ms. Tyler. We will see you then." Without waiting for her answer, he was gone.

  Samara stared at the envelope, her heart dancing in anticipation. The wax was deep red, the imprint a howling wolf's head with a calligraphy-style LLUS topping it.

  "Please," she begged, "I will do anything to get into this school."

  It was literally the answer to all her dreams. Not only would she be able to leave home, she would have all the financial support her mother had refused her.

  If I pass their exam. If it meant being accepted, she would spend every waking hour between now and the test studying.

  * * * *

  Se
bastian didn't wait for Pietro to clear the doorway at the end of the college fair before demanding a report. "Did you convince her?"

  His oldest friend tipped his head in a respectful bow. "Samara will be attending an entrance exam for the university in two weeks. To make a good showing, I invited three other high-ranking students from the county. They will, of course, not place high enough to be awarded the scholarship offered." A wry smile pulled up at Pietro's lips.

  "Her mother will protest Samara attending." It wasn't a question. Sebastian didn't doubt the woman would do everything she could to dissuade Samara.

  "She is a strong young woman, and…"

  The fur at the back of Sebastian's scalp went up in warning. "And?" His eyes narrowed.

  "One can smell the need to escape on her. If it means escaping her home life, I cannot imagine Samara will back down."

  Sebastian considered his friend's observations. "The scholarship includes university break classes. She need not return home to that…" He stopped himself from specifying his opinion of the mother of his daughter.

  "Understood. It will be as you say."

  He waved Pietro away, rapt on the vision of his daughter.

  In the distance, Samara left the building through another door. She stopped, pulled the envelope Pietro had given her from her bag, and stared at it. After a moment, she placed it carefully back in her bag and smiled. There was a spring in her renewed step.

  "Yes. It will be as I wish. At last."

  * * * *

  Two months later

  "I said you're not going." Her mother repeated her protest.

  "I am. There's no way you can stop me," Samara shouted. There wasn't. The scholarship came with everything she needed and more.

  "You think?" There was a challenge in her tone.

  "I know I'll be eighteen long before college starts, and I don't need any money from you to attend Lupi Lucania." What else could she do to stop Samara from going?

  Before her mother could retort, her father stepped in. "Back off, Florence. She did well. Samara is going to get a better education than either of us dreamed—"

  Her mother turned on him, in a full fury. "Shut up. She's not even yours. You have no say in this."

  For a long moment, they stared at each other. Samara's heart raced and her head spun.

  She isn't serious. She can't be serious. Of all the insane things her mother had said over the years, this topped the list.

  "What did you say? Is that true?" her father demanded. "And you better not be fucking with me, whatever you answer."

  Samara backed off a step. She'd never seen him so pissed off before. She wasn't sure what her father would do.

  True to form, her mother didn't back down. "I said she's not yours, and yes, that's true."

  He stood stock-still for a tense moment. "Samara, go pack your things. Anything important to you. We're leaving."

  Her mother reached out to grab Samara's arm, and she ducked away, shocked to silence, her world crumbling around her. Her father stepped between them.

  Her mother slapped him across the face. Hard. "You can't take her. She's mine. Mine."

  "I have no proof of what you're saying and my name is on her birth certificate, too. Even if you prove it, it will take you longer than the four months until Samara turns eighteen to do it, because I can fight you that long, at least. At her age, the courts will let her go with whichever parent she wants, and I am her father, whether you prove your claim or not."

  Her mother gaped, shaking her head, her eyes wide and wild.

  "Samara, go get your things." He hesitated, and his gaze was nothing short of tortured. "If you want to come with me, I'll be packed in fifteen minutes."

  "I'm coming. Don't leave without me." Please, don't. Don't leave me with her.

  "I won't. I promise I won't."

  Samara scooped the acceptance package off the table and ran for her room. He said to take anything important to me. With the life she'd known falling apart, it was one of the few things she had left that meant something to her.

  This, my father, and a few prized possessions.

  She slammed her door to the sound of her mother throwing something glass against the wall.

  Chapter Two

  One year later

  James and Jason rushed across campus and up into the administration building. A summons from the Alpha Maestro was a serious matter, and one didn't dawdle when called to his office.

  James would worry if he and his brother had been on campus long enough to have pulled a prank on someone, but they'd hardly had time to unpack. What possible trouble could he and Jason have gotten into?

  They didn't even have time to introduce themselves to the Alpha's door guard. The old warrior wolf showed them in without a word.

  Pietro didn't rise from his place behind the desk to greet them. That could have been bad news, but he offered a strained smile.

  "Well, now. I see the troublesome Trudale brothers have arrived."

  "As ordered, Alpha." Jason hastened to reply.

  James offered a quick tip of his head instead.

  Pietro stared at them, seemingly sizing them up. Just as James was preparing to challenge the move, the Alpha Maestro spoke.

  "Your mate is coming to campus this semester."

  James snarled. As he'd feared, he and Jason were going to be mated to Christiana. So much for our hopes that there would be a stronger, higher-ranked female a year or two younger than her.

  Come on. I knew this was coming. The two strongest young males, litter-brothers, are expected to mate with the highest-ranking female not related to them. We're fucked.

  "She will be moving into the Alpha suite tomorrow morning."

  Of course she will. Where else would Christiana expect to stay? By the Night Mother, being mated to that foul beast will be hell on Earth.

  Jason shot him a look of disgust that said he was having similar thoughts.

  "This will be somewhat…complicated." Pietro continued when they didn’t offer comments.

  "To say the least," Jason blurted out.

  Before James could apologize for his brother's outburst, Pietro was posing a question to them.

  "What do you know about Samara Tyler?"

  For a potent moment, the brothers stared at each other.

  James found his voice first. "Who in the Night Mother's name is Samara Tyler?"

  * * * *

  "Tyler? Samara Tyler?"

  The old woman's accent was a pleasant lightly-British or British colony derivative and her smile warm. Instantly at ease, Samara nodded and offered her hand.

  She took it in both of her own. "Ah, bella. I am so happy to meet you."

  "So am I…uh…" Samara blushed in the realization that she'd forgotten the name of the woman who would be meeting her at the airport.

  "You may call me Marietta."

  Samara committed it to memory.

  "Well, now… Come along." Marietta turned and looped Samara's arm with her own. She was shorter than Samara by almost a head and had the slight pouch of a belly almost all older women—even thin ones, like Marietta—had.

  "Oh. Wait. Shouldn't I…?" Samara motioned back toward the cart of suitcases and boxes they were leaving behind.

  "No. The men will transport your belongings in the van. We will take the car back to your rooms and meet them there."

  A glance back confirmed two men in red jackets pulling the cart behind them.

  "Sounds good." It did. After spending all day on a jet—thankfully in first class, which was a delight—only to arrive mid-morning in Italy, Samara was exhausted.

  She stopped short at the sight of the limo with the school crest on the door.

  "Samara? Is there a problem?" Marietta inquired.

  "Does everyone get this treatment?" If so, that explained at least part of how expensive the school was.

  She chuckled. "No, but you are… What is the American term for it? A VIP?"

  "First time I've been ca
lled that in my life," Samara admitted.

  Marietta frowned, as if the comment confused her.

  Samara slid into the luxurious interior. The leather seats cradled her in warmth, and she sighed. Marietta joined her, and the driver closed them in.

  They set off, out of the city and into the small villages and farms surrounding it. At first, Marietta pointed out the sights and imparted the history of the area. As Samara's eyes fluttered and dipped, the older woman fell silent.

  Sleep dragged her into darkness.

  * * * *

  "Samara?" Someone shook her shoulder gently. "Samara."

  She opened her eyes to the sight of Marietta's smile. "Sorry." Samara yawned widely, stretching her back and arms. She smoothed her blouse while she tried to get her bearings.

  "Not at all. Take your time."

  That spurred Samara on. It wasn't like her to make people wait. And I'm not starting now. She pulled herself out of the limo, ignoring the driver's hand.

  He didn't seem offended by it. Once Marietta was out, he shut the door. "If you need anything else, have Marietta call for me."

  Samara hadn't quite grasped that statement when Marietta waved him away. He was gone before she could thank him.

  The building they'd stopped at was nothing short of a mansion. Samara stared at it, visually tracing it from one long wing to the opposite one. That accomplished, she focused on the cornerstone building, standing a full two stories taller than the three-story tall wings, and that was before one took into account the ornate gilded topper.

  "This is the dorm?" she blurted out.

  "One of them," Marietta agreed pleasantly. She guided Samara toward the massive front doors. "This one is for VIPs."

  They ambled up the circular walk, Marietta speaking the entire way.

  "Regina Hall was designed in eighteen-ninety and construction started that year. A large portion of it was destroyed in the fire of nineteen-thirty-nine. The entire hall was demolished, and then rebuilt from the original plans, but with updated building materials.