Bad Boy Professor

Bad Boy Professor A Werewolf Shifter Enemies to Lovers Romance. Waverly sage Copyright 2022 by Waverly Sage - All rights reserved. It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document electronically or in printed format. Recording this publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher. Contents 1. Chapter One 2. Chapter Two 3. Chapter Three 4. Chapter Four 5. Chapter Five 6. Chapter Six 7. Chapter Seven 8. Chapter Eight 9. Chapter Nine 10. Chapter Ten 11. Chapter Eleven 12. Chapter Twelve 13. Chapter Thirteen 14. Chapter Fourteen 15. Chapter Fifteen 16. Chapter Sixteen 17. Chapter Seventeen 18. Chapter Eighteen 19. Chapter Nineteen 20. Epilogue Chapter one Grace It is written that the alpha wolf shall find his mate before the autumn solstice, and should the bond remain unsealed, one cannot live while the other still breathes, or the fates shall intervene. The Prophecy If I could do magic, I’d hex the ever-loving shit out of my ex-boyfriend right now. He’s leaning over my sister Anastasia’s—Stassie, as we call her—table at the family garden shop, asking her for a tarot reading. Like most of my sisters, she spends her shifts at the Greenhouse doing absolutely nothing, but because they have their witchery going for them, my mother couldn’t be bothered to care. Picture him in your mind. I’m sure you can guess his type. Thinks he’s God’s gift to women and is sure no matter what he does, every girl in the room is about to fall at his feet and declare their devotion. Yeah, that’s him. I wasn’t even sure why he started coming into the Greenhouse at first, not until he blatantly began sniffing around my older sister like some kind of horny bloodhound. Jackson Cartwright, womanizing extraordinaire. Of course, Stassie is falling for it. I did too, once upon a time, until I realized that he had a different girl on call for every day ending with a “Y”, and I was just one he couldn’t pick out of a line-up. If it were Zöe working the counter, or even Alex, I’m sure he’d get a nice pot to inexplicably fall on his head. Unfortunately, even as my fingers twitch against the counter, just itching to throw something at him as hard as humanly possible, I come up empty. Stassie has been doing homework for her newest major change at the local university. She’s as flighty as she is beautiful, but my parents couldn’t give a damn what she spends their money on. That’s the perk of being a full-fledged witch: it’s the ultimate hall pass for all things in the Sumner coven. Stassie is one of my five sisters. They are all older, although Zoe is only a year ahead of me. All of my sisters could do magic before they could drink, and here I am, twenty-three and unbloomed. If Jack knew anything about witches or magic, I’m sure my lack of powers would have come up in his “it’s not you, it’s me” speech when we broke it off last summer. Whatever. Not like I can do anything about it. As he leans over to scribble his number on the blank page of her notebook, I have to swallow the vomit rising in my throat. Seriously. Who the hell does he think he is? He even nods at me on his way out the door, leaving my dimwit of a sister to blush and fan herself with her tarot deck. All of the witches have a knack in this family, and hers just happens to be cards. I’d include myself in the classification of witch, but at this rate, the sun will probably swallow the entire solar system before I develop even a fragment of magical power. Yawn, I know. “Isn’t he cute?” Stassie asks when his car pulls out of the parking lot. She flicks through the packets of seeds on the counter, each marked down to a quarter. It’s probably her way of looking busy, even if it fools no one. “I thought so, once upon a time,” I reply. “Too bad there’s no room in a relationship for a girl and his ego. Three’s a crowd.” She scoffs, scrunching her nose in disgust. “You’re just jealous of me.” Jealous? Of the opportunity to have him lay on top of you for a sweaty twelve seconds before asking, did you come? No thanks. “Stassie, the guy is a tool. You can do better.” She shakes her head to say, “Gods, Grace, can’t you just be happy for me?” “I’m happy for you in other ways. Not about this. If you had any sense at all, you’d tear out that page and hex him into erectile dysfunction.” He’s probably already on his way there, but I don’t add that part to the conversation because I doubt Stassie cares about my warnings. None of my sisters ever listen to me. “I’ll ask my cards,” she says stubbornly. When she pulls “the Devil” from the top of the pile, I fight the urge to burst into laughter. She narrows her eyes accusingly. “You’re tainting my reading, Grace.” “I’m not doing anything to your reading, Stassie.” She tucks her cards into the pocket of her jeans, shaking her head at me. “Whatever. I’m gonna finish my schoolwork at home.” “Start it, you mean?” I retort. “You’re such a bitch!” She slams the door behind her. All it does is cast a gust of air toward some of the succulents, who don’t seem all that bothered about it. For me, starting fights with my sisters is nothing new. However as well-intentioned I try to be, nothing I say holds any weight. The Greenhouse is probably only afloat because my mother is a probability witch. Luck and numbers go hand in hand for her, so the business hasn’t