Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 122

Eileen

The corridor felt too narrow, the air too thick. I stood frozen in the doorway of the dormitory wing, watching Nina's retreating form disappear around the corner with the frantic energy of a hunted animal. The slam of her door echoed through the hall like a gunshot.

"That poor girl." The orderly who'd collided with her bent to retrieve the scattered bandages from the floor, shaking his head. "Didn't even apologize. Just ran like a ghost was after her."

I wanted to follow her, to knock on that door and demand she tell me what had put that look of absolute terror in her eyes.

Behind me, Silas cleared his throat delicately. "Miss Wylde? Are you quite alright?"

I turned back to face him, forcing my expression into something approximating normalcy. He stood exactly where I'd left him, hands clasped behind his back, the very picture of concerned authority. Nothing in his posture suggested he'd just witnessed anything unusual. Nothing except the faint crease between his brows, the way his gaze lingered on the corner where Nina had disappeared.

"Yes, I'm fine." The lie tasted bitter. "I should check on her, though. She seemed... upset."

"Indeed." Silas tilted his head, studying me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "You room near Miss Grey, don't you? In the adjoining suite?"

How did he know that? I'd never mentioned Nina to him, had barely spoken to the man beyond professional pleasantries during his inspections. "Yes, we share a common area."

"Ah." He nodded slowly, as if this confirmed something. "I hope you'll forgive my asking, but how well do you know your colleague? Her background, her family situation?"

The question landed wrong, too pointed for casual concern. I thought of Nina's empty file, the way Mira had speculated about orphanages or worse. "Not well," I admitted carefully. "She keeps to herself mostly."

"Mm." Silas's expression shifted to something almost paternal, sympathetic in a way that didn't reach his eyes. "I only ask because I've noticed some... concerning behaviors. One worries about students so far from home, especially those without proper support systems."

Every word was reasonable, considerate even. But there was something underneath it, something that made me want to step back, to put distance between myself and this man who smelled faintly of leather and old smoke.

"I'm sure she's just adjusting to the work," I said, keeping my voice neutral. "The border cases can be difficult."

"Of course, of course." He waved a hand dismissively. "Though between you and me, Miss Wylde, I do wonder if Miss Grey is truly suited for border service. Some personalities simply aren't equipped for the isolation, the pressure. It would be no failing on her part to request reassignment somewhere more... structured."

The suggestion hung in the air like a threat dressed in velvet. I thought of Nina's precision with healing compounds, the way her hands never shook no matter how gruesome the wound. Whatever else she might be, unsuited was not a word I would use.

"I should really go check on her," I said, taking a deliberate step toward the dormitory wing. "If you'll excuse me—"

"Of course."

I managed some polite response, some excuse about needing to rest, and finally he stepped aside.

I found Mira still at work in the compounding room, grinding dried silverleaf with practiced efficiency. She looked up when I entered, her expression brightening before concern quickly replaced it.

"You look like you've run into some trouble," she observed, setting down her pestle. "Everything okay?"

"It's Silas. The way he's been watching Nina—it makes me uneasy."

"How would he even know Nina? He's always on the border," Mira looked confused. "You might be overthinking it."

I thought of Nina's panic, the way she'd fled from Silas like he was death itself. "What do you know about Nina's family? Her background before she came here?"

Mira's expression turned cautious. "Not much. When I helped Professor Ward file some of the student records last month, I noticed her guardian section was blank. No parents listed, no emergency contacts. The admissions clerk told me she's technically a ward of the academy—they sponsored her directly."

"An orphan?"

"Maybe. Or..." Mira lowered her voice further. "Or someone who needed to disappear. Someone running from something."

The words settled over me like a shroud. Could it be Silas?

"We should keep an eye on her," I said finally. "Make sure she's okay."

Mira nodded, but her expression remained troubled. "Eileen... be careful, yeah? You need to put yourself first."

"I know. I'll be careful."

But as I left the compounding room and headed toward the patient wards, I couldn't shake the feeling that careful might not be enough. Not if Nina was already in Silas's sights.

---

I was heading back toward the dormitory wing, intending to knock on her door whether she wanted company or not. But after no one answered, I pushed the door open to find the room empty. Unease settled in my chest. I needed to leave for the cottage soon—Regis was waiting for me. Reluctantly, I sent Mira a quick message asking her to let me know the moment Nina returned.

Walking down the familiar path, I was mulling over whether to tell Regis about today's strange encounter—maybe he could look into whether Silas actually knew Nina—when I heard voices drifting from the direction of the birch grove on the east side of the trail. One voice was raised in what might have been protest or pain, the other lower, soothing in the way that predators soothe prey before the kill.

My feet carried me toward the sound before conscious thought could intervene. The path through the birches was well-worn, used by villagers who wanted a quick route to the main road. But as I drew closer to the voices, I found myself slowing, moving with more caution.

Through the white trunks, I could see figures in a small clearing—two of them, one significantly larger than the other. The larger figure had their back to me, broad shoulders blocking my view of whoever they held pinned against a tree trunk.

Then the larger figure shifted slightly, and cold recognition washed through me.

Silas. And trapped between him and the birch tree, barely visible past his bulk, was Nina.

I dropped into a crouch behind a fallen log, my heart hammering so loud I was sure they'd hear it. But neither of them moved, locked in their awful tableau.

"...thought you could hide forever?" Silas's voice was conversational, almost gentle. "Did you really think I wouldn't recognize my own handiwork?"

Nina made a sound—not words, just a whimper of pure terror that made every protective instinct I possessed scream to intervene. But I forced myself to stay still, to listen, to understand what I was witnessing.

"You were such a little thing then," Silas continued, and now I could see his hand, pale against Nina's throat. "Barely spoke at all, as I recall. Your mother had more spirit. She screamed quite beautifully before we broke her."

Oh gods. Oh gods, what was this?

Nina was shaking, I could see it even from my hiding place, but she didn't try to fight or flee. She stood frozen, like a rabbit caught in a wolf's jaws, waiting for the bite that would end it.

"The resemblance is quite striking, you know," Silas murmured. "Same eyes. Same delicate bones. Though you've filled out better than she did at your age. And all this—" his fingers brushed her thick bangs, making her flinch, "—the shapeless clothes, the hair hiding your face. So clever. Who would ever guess witch blood runs in your veins?"

*Witch blood.* The words echoed in my skull. Nina was descended from witches? And Silas knew, had known her mother, had done something terrible.