Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 134

Regis

The forest path unrolled beneath my horse's hooves in an endless ribbon of moonlit silver and shadow. I'd been riding for three hours straight since leaving the academy, my mind replaying every moment of Father's interrogation of Cornelius—the way the old bastard's face had crumbled when confronted with evidence of his conspiracy, how his hands had shaken as he'd surrendered those damning letters about Silas's "special action" planned for the full moon.

Two weeks. We had two weeks to find Silas before whatever twisted plan he'd concocted came to fruition.

Through the mate bond, I felt Eileen sleeping peacefully back at the medical station, her presence a warm steady pulse against my ribs. The connection had grown stronger since 我们越加完美契合且频繁的亲密接触. Even now, miles away and riding through darkness, I could sense her contentment, the way our child's presence had settled into something she no longer fought against but drew strength from instead.

Valdor stirred beneath my skin, my wolf's consciousness brushing against mine with impatient hunger. *See our mate. Now.*

*Soon,* I promised silently, though my own instincts screamed the same demand. Every hour away from Eileen felt like abandoning my post, leaving her vulnerable despite Kieran's patrols and the medical station's fortifications.

The night air carried early spring's bite, cold enough to frost my breath but lacking winter's brutal edge. I inhaled deeply, automatically cataloging scents—pine resin, damp earth, the musky trail of deer that had passed hours ago. Then something else threaded through the familiar forest perfume, so faint I almost dismissed it.

Blood. Old blood, mixed with infection and the acrid chemical signature of fear.

Valdor surged forward, and I gave him partial control, letting my senses sharpen to preternatural clarity. The scent grew stronger as I urged my horse faster around a bend where an ancient oak's roots broke through the path like gnarled fingers.

A wolf lay sprawled in the shadows—deep brown fur matted with dried blood, flanks heaving with labored breaths. The scent markers were wrong, carrying the unwashed desperation of rogues who lived like feral animals in the borderlands.

I was off my horse instantly, Alpha authority rolling out in a wave that sent small creatures scattering into the underbrush. The fallen wolf's eyes cracked open as I approached, revealing amber irises clouded with pain and fever. Recognition flickered—not of me specifically, but of what I was. Alpha. Safety. Authority.

The shift took him badly, bones cracking with agonizing slowness as human form replaced wolf. When it finished, I recognized Owen Hayes immediately—one of Adrian Cross's most trusted Betas. We'd met twice at inter-pack gatherings, exchanged pleasantries while our Alphas discussed territorial boundaries.

"Alpha..." Owen's voice emerged as barely a whisper, blood flecking his lips. "Alpha Cross... mating ceremony..."

His eyes rolled back and consciousness fled.

I moved quickly, tearing strips from my cloak to bind the worst wounds. The injuries were hours old—vicious tears across shoulder and throat, half-healed by werewolf physiology but badly infected. Rogue wolves didn't clean their fangs, and bacteria from rotted meat festered in every bite.

*Mate will fix,* Valdor rumbled with absolute certainty as I lifted Owen carefully onto my horse. *Mate fixes everything.*

The thought brought an involuntary smile despite the circumstances. Valdor's faith in Eileen bordered on religious fervor, and honestly, I couldn't argue. She'd saved my life in that forest months ago when I'd been the one lying half-dead and bleeding. Now she'd save Owen's too, because that was simply who she was—a healer down to her bones, incapable of turning away from someone in need.

As my horse carried us toward the medical station at a controlled canter, pieces clicked into place. Adrian was holding a Luna ceremony—finally completing the mate bond with Morgan Reid after two years of circling each other like wary combatants. The invitation, delivered by Owen himself rather than a simple courier, spoke to the ceremony's significance.

Under normal circumstances, I would have accepted without hesitation. The chance to strengthen our alliance, to celebrate a friend's joy, held obvious value both political and personal. I genuinely liked Adrian, respected the steady way he led Northridge Pack into prosperity while maintaining fierce military readiness.

But these weren't normal circumstances. Silas lurked somewhere in the shadows, Cornelius's conspiracy ticking toward the full moon like a lit fuse, and Eileen carried our child in a body already stressed by constant low-grade danger.

Yet... Eileen needed this. Needed to be more than the target we all protected, the pregnant mate hiding behind reinforced walls. A Luna ceremony would give her the chance to dress beautifully, celebrate life instead of strategizing against death, breathe air that didn't taste of perpetual vigilance.

And Northridge territory was genuinely safe, protected by natural barriers and Adrian's formidable reputation. If we could confirm Silas was still lurking near our borders rather than ranging free...

The bond stirred before I'd finished the thought. Eileen, waking. I felt her consciousness surface like a swimmer breaking through water, still soft with sleep but sharpening as she registered my presence.

I pulled my communicator free, thumbing it active as the medical station's lights appeared through the trees. Dawn was breaking properly now, pale gold replacing silver moonlight.

*Regis?* Eileen's message came just in time. *You're back? I thought I felt you...*

*I'm at the station entrance. Brought back an injured Beta who needs immediate treatment.*

*I'm coming now!* The sleepiness vanished instantly, replaced by crisp professional focus that never failed to stir both pride and possessive satisfaction in equal measure.

Through the bond, I felt her moving—concern for an unknown patient overriding any hesitation, that core of steel wrapped in gentleness that had first drawn me to her. She'd been willing to risk herself for a dying wolf, even desperate in the forest. That essential nature never changed, only grew stronger as she learned to trust her own worth.

I dismounted at the main entrance, gathering Owen carefully. A night-shift orderly appeared, eyes widening at the sight of blood.

"Prepare a bed," I ordered quietly, and he vanished immediately.

I stood there holding Owen's weight, letting myself simply breathe. The bond pulsed warm and steady as Eileen approached—running by the sound of it, probably yanking on clothes as she went, her hair undoubtedly tangled because she never remembered to braid it before sleep.

*If Silas stays hidden,* I thought, *if these days pass quietly... we'll go to Northridge. Let her dance and laugh and remember joy exists alongside danger.*

The medical station door burst open and there she was—barefoot despite the cold, sleep shirt half-tucked into hastily donned trousers, chamomile and apple sweetness washing over me like a benediction. Kieran appeared behind her, more properly dressed but with his sword belt buckled askew.

Eileen's eyes found mine, flashed with relief that I was whole, then dropped to Owen in immediate professional assessment.

"Careful," I warned as she started forward too quickly, catching her elbow when she stumbled at the threshold. "The child, remember?"

She nodded impatiently, already turning toward the open doorway. "What's his condition? How long has he been bleeding?"

"Hours. Rogue attack, neck and shoulder wounds, infection setting in." I moved inside, Owen's weight still cradled against my chest.

The main treatment room swallowed us in lamplight and antiseptic herbs. Eileen snapped orders to the orderly about clean water and bandages, her hands already moving toward Owen with practiced confidence.

I laid him carefully on the prepared bed, noting how even unconscious his face held gentle determination. Adrian had sent his best—not just a messenger but someone capable of surviving a rogue pack despite being badly outnumbered.

*The kind of wolf who belongs in a pack,* Valdor murmured. *Perhaps ours.*

The certainty of that thought felt strange but right. I shook it off, stepping back to let Eileen work, watching as her focus narrowed to laser precision.