Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 125

Eileen

She hadn't moved from where I'd left her, still sitting on the edge of the bed with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, still staring at that same spot on the wall. I settled myself in the wooden chair, close enough to talk but far enough to give her space, and for a long time I just sat there in silence, letting her adjust to my presence, letting her decide whether or not she could bear to acknowledge me.

"I know you probably don't want to talk," I said finally, keeping my voice low and even. "I know that right now it probably feels safer to stay silent, to keep everything locked inside where it can't hurt you. I understand that impulse more than you might think."

No response, but I thought I saw her eyes flicker slightly in my direction.

"I spent most of my life being told I wasn't enough," I continued, the words coming easier than I'd expected now that I'd started. "Being told that because I couldn't shift, because I didn't have a wolf, I wasn't really part of the Pack. My own parents looked at me like I was a disappointment, an embarrassment they had to tolerate. They took my money, took my labor, took everything I could give them, and when I had nothing left, they made it clear I was worthless to them."

I saw her shoulders tense slightly, saw the first sign that she was actually listening.

"There was a boy," I said, and even now the memory carried a sting of humiliation. "Derek. I thought I loved him, thought that if I was just patient enough, sweet enough, useful enough, he might see me as something more than the wolfless girl who followed him around. I wasted two years of my life waiting for him to notice me, making excuses for him when he ignored me, telling myself that his cruelty was just awkwardness and that eventually he'd realize what he had."

A soft sound from the bed—not quite a word, but acknowledgment.

"And when I finally started working in the kitchens to earn money my family wouldn't take from me, there was another man. Andrew." The name tasted bitter. "He cornered me in the forest, called me filthy names because I was pregnant, tried to..." I had to stop, had to breathe through the memory of his hands on me, his breath hot against my face. "I defended myself. I used a spray to get away. And when I tried to report what happened, when I tried to stand up for myself, the Elder told me it was my fault. Told me I'd provoked it, that I was probably lying, that I should just sign a paper saying it was all a misunderstanding and be grateful he didn't expel me for attacking a student."

Now Nina turned, actually turned to look at me, and her eyes were wide and wounded and full of terrible recognition.

"I almost signed it," I admitted, feeling the shame of that moment wash over me again. "I almost gave in, almost agreed that I deserved what happened to me, because that's what I'd been taught my whole life. To be small. To be sorry. To accept whatever treatment I got and be grateful it wasn't worse."

"But you didn't," Nina said, and her voice was hoarse and raw from crying, from screaming, from years of keeping silent. "You're here. You're alive and you're... you're the Luna. You got away."

"Not on my own," I said quietly. "I had Regis. I had someone who refused to let me believe those lies about myself, who stood between me and the people who wanted to hurt me, who taught me that I had the right to defend myself, to say no, to be angry about the injustice of it all." I leaned forward, catching her gaze and holding it. "And now you have us too. You have me, and Regis, and we are not going to let Silas or anyone else hurt you again. Not if we can help it."

She was crying now, silent tears tracking down her face, her whole body shaking with the effort of holding back sobs. "You don't understand," she whispered. "You're a wolf, even if you couldn't shift before. You're Pack. You belong. I'm... I'm not even supposed to exist. If they find out what I am, what my mother was, they'll kill me. The laws—"

"Say nothing about healing," I interrupted firmly. "Say nothing about students who've done nothing wrong except have the misfortune of being born to the wrong bloodline. Nina, I don't care what the old laws say. You saved lives at that medical station. You helped me figure out the parasite cure. You are a healer, and that matters more than any heritage you might carry."

"But you're at least pure-blood wolf," she said, and there was such bitter resignation in her voice. "You're the Luna now, you're carrying an Alpha's child, you have everything. I'm just... I'm a monster. Half-breed. Abomination. That's what Silas said, what they all said when they had my mother. That's what I am."

The word landed between us like a stone, and I felt its weight, felt the years of self-loathing and internalized hatred that had shaped it. I reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to, and when she didn't, I took her hand in mine. Her fingers were ice-cold and trembling, and I could feel the echo of her trauma through the touch, could sense the depth of wounds that went far deeper than anything Silas had inflicted today.

"Silas knew my mother," Nina said, and now the words were coming faster, tumbling out as if a dam had broken. "He was one of them. One of the wolves who captured her when I was small, who kept us locked up for... for years. He did terrible things to her. Made her... made her service them, made her use her healing magic to keep them strong and healthy while they..." She couldn't finish the sentence, couldn't force out the words for what had been done.

"You don't have to tell me everything right now," I said gently, squeezing her hand. "You don't have to relive it all at once. But Nina, please believe me when I say that we will protect you. Regis gave you his word as an Alpha, and that's not something he takes lightly. We will keep you safe."

"Why?" The question was barely a whisper. "Why would you believe me? Why would you risk everything for someone like me? You don't even know me, not really. We've barely spoken before today. How do you know I'm not lying? How do you know I'm not dangerous, that I won't bring nothing but trouble down on you and your mate and your child?"

I sat with the question for a moment, trying to find words for something I'd barely articulated to myself. "Because something inside me, something deep and instinctive, is telling me that helping you is important. That you matter, that this matters, in ways I can't fully explain." I thought of that night in the Whispering Woods, of finding Regis's wolf bleeding and broken, of the pull I'd felt to save him even when every rational thought said I should run. "My instincts led me to Regis when he needed help. They led me to develop the cure that saved Marcus and the others. And now they're leading me to you. I've learned to trust that inner voice, Nina. And it's telling me that you're worth fighting for."

She stared at me for a long moment, searching my face for any sign of deception or pity or the thousand other things she'd probably encountered from people who'd promised help before. Then, slowly, she squeezed my hand back.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for not leaving me there. Thank you for risking yourself to get me away from him."

"Always," I said, and meant it with everything I had. "You're not alone anymore, Nina. Whatever comes next, we face it together."

Outside the small window, night had fully fallen, and somewhere in that darkness, Silas was plotting his next move. But here in this small room, two broken girls who'd learned to survive held onto each other and dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, survival wasn't the best they could hope for anymore.

Maybe, finally, they could hope for something better.