Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 100

Eileen

"Let go!" I twisted, fighting against his grip.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Derek snarled, pressing me back against the shelf. Jars rattled. His face was too close, breath hot and angry. "You need to learn some respect. Need to remember your place."

My mind raced. The door was locked. He was bigger, stronger. I couldn't overpower him directly. But if I could distract him, just for a moment—

I fixed my eyes on the door behind him, widening them as if I'd seen something.

"Mira! Over here!" I shouted, my voice still trembling.

Derek's head whipped toward the entrance, just for a second. Just long enough.

I shoved hard against his chest with my free hand and yanked my wrist from his loosened grip. The movement sent me stumbling, but I caught my balance and bolted for the door. My fingers fumbled with the lock—please, please, please—and then it gave.

I burst into the corridor, not looking back, clutching my bag against my chest and my other hand still pressed protectively over my stomach. Behind me, I heard Derek curse, but there were voices nearby—students returning from lunch. He didn't follow.

But his words chased me anyway: "This isn't over, Eileen."

My hands wouldn't stop shaking as I hurried down the corridor, the echo of Derek's threat still ringing in my ears. The words chased me like a physical presence, making my skin crawl.

I needed to find someone. Regis—the thought of him surfaced immediately, instinctive.

But going to the combat wing meant cutting through the central courtyard, risking another encounter with Derek. And more than that... I pressed a hand to my stomach, remembering the last time Regis had lost control protecting me. The half-shifted rage, the claws at Andrew's throat. The way he'd looked at me afterward—terrified he'd frightened me, horrified at what he'd almost done.

I couldn't be the reason he crossed that line again. Not for Derek's pathetic intimidation.

*You're supposed to have your own fangs now,* I reminded myself. *Not just hide behind his.*

The treatment labs were closer to Mira's dormitory anyway. I checked my watch—twenty-three minutes left of lunch break. I could wait downstairs, catch her when she came down, and we'd go to class together. Safety in numbers. Simple.

My feet changed direction, carrying me toward the residential quarter. Through the bond, I felt Regis's emotions shift slightly—a flicker of curiosity, maybe mild concern. But nothing urgent. He didn't sense real danger.

Should I tell him? My fingers found the communicator in my pocket.

*I can handle this myself,* I thought, even as doubt coiled in my stomach. *Nothing actually happened.*

But my wrist still throbbed where he'd grabbed me, and the memory of being trapped against those shelves, his breath hot on my face, made my own breath come shorter.

*Tonight,* I decided firmly. *I'll tell him everything tonight. When we're home and I can explain it properly.*

I just had to get through the rest of the day first.

---

Derek

The herb smell still clung to my clothes as I stalked toward my dormitory, jaw clenched hard enough to make my teeth ache. Fucking Eileen. Fucking *bitch*.

Who did she think she was? Standing there looking at me like I was dirt, like she hadn't spent a year making moon-eyes at me, practically begging for scraps of my attention. And now suddenly she had standards? Suddenly *I* wasn't good enough for her?

My hands curled into fists, remembering the satisfying feeling of her wrist in my grip, of having her backed against those shelves where she belonged. Small. Helpless. Finally forced to listen.

Then she'd pulled that stupid trick with someone's name and slipped away like a coward.

But I'd seen the fear in her eyes first. That was real. She could act tough all she wanted—she was still that same scared little wolfless girl underneath.

"Derek!"

I looked up to find Celeste striding toward me across the quad, and my stomach sank. Her arms were crossed, her expression thunderous, and I recognized that particular set to her jaw. This was going to be a fight.

"Hey," I tried for casual, forcing my features into something resembling a smile. "You're here."

"Where were you?" She stopped directly in my path, blocking me. "I came to your room at noon. You weren't there. You weren't at the usual lunch spot. And you shut me out on the mind link."

"I had to take care of something—"

"What something?" Her eyes narrowed. "Because we were supposed to meet. Remember? You said you'd take me to that new place by the east gardens."

Shit. I had said that, hadn't I? In a moment of distraction while she'd been going on about some dress fitting or another.

"I forgot," I admitted, which was a mistake.

"You *forgot*." Her voice went dangerously quiet. "You forgot about *me* to go take care of... what, exactly?"

"Just academy stuff. Nothing important." I tried to step around her, but she moved with me, still blocking. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? We can go tomorrow—"

"You smell like herbs."

I froze.

Celeste leaned in, and I saw the exact moment recognition flickered across her face. Her nostrils flared, taking in the scent of dried plants and that particular mustiness unique to the storage rooms.

"Treatment wing," she said slowly. Her gaze sharpened like a blade. "You were in the treatment wing."