The rejected mate and her Professor

"Bella, wake up!" I heard someone tap my shoulder and call my name. Groggily, I opened my eyes, and there sat my roommate, Sandra, beside my bed.

"Bella, you've got to get out of this bed before we head to our morning classes," said Sandra as she rose from the bed. I let out a loud yawn and stretched as the soft morning light streamed through the half-opened curtains, casting a gentle, golden hue across the room.

Let me introduce myself. I'm Bella Curry, a university student and a writer. At twenty-three years old, I'm a she-wolf, and at the moment, I'm single.

You might be wondering why I'm single. It's not because I lack beauty or appeal. The reason is simple: I'm not interested in any guy. Yes, you heard that right. I'm not currently interested in any guy because I'm infatuated with the fictional male characters in my novels. You see, I'm a writer, and most of my work falls into the smut category. The male characters in my novels are quite alluring, and that's the main reason I'm still single. It may sound peculiar, but fantasizing about my own characters is more than enough for me *winks*.

Another reason I'm single is that I haven't found my mate yet. I've been hoping to meet my mate since I turned eighteen, but here I am at twenty-three, and that hope has dwindled. Maybe I'm just not destined to have a mate, or perhaps the moon goddess didn't create one for me. Nevertheless, I find happiness in my life as a writer.

Being a writer is undoubtedly demanding and strenuous, but it's one of the five reasons why I'm still here. I know you must be curious about the other four reasons, but that's a story for another day.

"Bella, will you please get inside the bathroom and take your bath before our morning classes?" Sandra yelled from outside the room, and I let out a soft sigh.

Honestly, I was still feeling drowsy. I hadn't gotten enough sleep because I was up writing all night. This was a regular occurrence for me, as I often found solace in the written word late into the night. I was in the midst of crafting a new smut short story about a high school teacher and his student. The idea struck me in the middle of the night, and I couldn't resist the urge to start writing it. That's the reason why I couldn't get enough sleep.

The door swung open suddenly, and Sandra entered the room. She frowned deeply upon seeing me still lying on my bed.

"Bella, what's wrong with you?" She asked, her arms crossed in anger. "Do you want us to be late for class this morning?"

To be honest, I didn't want to go to the morning class, especially since it was history. I had a strong dislike for the history Professor who made the subject difficult, not just for me, but for everyone else.

"Sandra, I don't want to go to history class this morning," I said wearily, and Sandra gave me a questioning look.

"Why don't you want to go to history class?" She asked as she sat on the bedside.

"You already know why," I replied.

"Because of the history Professor?" She questioned.

"Yep," I replied.

"Well, I think you'll change your mind after I tell you the good news," she said, and I became curious.

"What good news?" I asked, full of curiosity.

"The history Professor has resigned, and we have a new history Professor now," she said, and my eyes widened in surprise.

"Seriously?"

"Yep," she nodded. "And you know the best part? The new Professor is incredibly handsome!"

Sandra exclaimed with a big smile, but her smile vanished when she saw that I wasn't excited about the "best part."

"What's wrong, Bella?" Sandra asked. "You don't seem excited."

"I'm excited, but not because the new history Professor is handsome. I'm excited because we have a new Professor," I replied.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes and got up. "Just get ready so we can leave for class. I can't wait to meet the new Professor."

I scoffed as Sandra walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

"So, you're not interested in meeting this new Professor that Sandra said is handsome?" a feminine voice echoed in my head, and I recognized it as Amelia, my wolf.

"Seriously, Amelia, I'm not interested in meeting this new handsome Professor," I replied as I slowly sat upright in my messy bed. Sheets of paper filled with my writing and ideas were scattered across my small desk. My creative mind had been working tirelessly, chasing inspiration that often visited me during the quiet hours of the night.

"But what if the Professor is even more handsome than you can imagine?" Amelia asked as I dragged myself out of bed, my limbs heavy with exhaustion.

"We haven't seen the Professor yet, so let's not jump to conclusions," I replied as I wore my recommended eyeglasses. "And even if the new Professor is as handsome as Sandra claims, I'm sure the male characters in my novels are far more attractive and captivating."

"But what if he surpasses all expectations?" Amelia persisted, and I groaned.