Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 141

Eileen

The morning light was too bright.

I woke to it streaming through the gap in the curtains, painting golden stripes across the rumpled sheets where Regis still slept beside me—which was unusual. He was always up before dawn, his internal clock tied to patrol schedules and training routines that didn't care about things like mating celebrations or fruit wine hangovers.

But this morning he was sprawled on his stomach with one arm flung across my waist, his face pressed into the pillow, breathing deep and even. The mate mark on his shoulder blade—still visible where the sheets had slipped down—caught the light, and I felt a surge of affection so strong it made my chest ache.

Then I remembered Nina.

I'd meant to check on her last night. Had *wanted* to, knew something was wrong from the way she'd barely spoken at dinner, the tension I'd seen in every line of her body when Morgan and I had tried to reach out. But then Regis had pulled me into his arms with that rare, unguarded softness that only came out when he'd let his control slip, and I'd...

I'd let myself be distracted. Put my own comfort ahead of my friend's clear distress.

*Some friend you are.*

I eased out from under Regis's arm as carefully as I could, holding my breath when he stirred and mumbled something incoherent into the pillow. But he didn't wake, just rolled onto his side and burrowed deeper into the blankets. I just quietly pulled on yesterday's dress.

The hallway was quiet, most of the household still sleeping after last night's celebration. My footsteps sounded too loud on the polished wood floors as I made my way to the guest wing where Nina's room was. With each step the guilt twisted tighter—*I should have come last night, should have insisted, what kind of person chooses romance over checking on someone who's clearly struggling—*

I knocked on her door. "Nina? It's Eileen."

Nothing.

I knocked again, harder this time. "Nina, I'm sorry I didn't come by last night. I wanted to make sure you're all right."

Still nothing. Not even the sound of movement from inside.

The unease that had been building in my chest since I'd woken bloomed into real fear. I tried the handle—locked. Knocked again, loud enough that I heard a door open somewhere down the hall, a servant poking their head out to see what the commotion was.

"Please," I said, not caring how desperate I sounded. "I need you to open this door. Now."

The young woman—barely older than me, with kind eyes and a Beta's practical efficiency—didn't waste time with questions. She produced a key from the ring at her waist and had the door open in seconds, stepping back to let me through with a concerned, "Is everything all right, miss?"

I didn't answer. I was already pushing into the room, my eyes scanning the space with growing dread.

Empty.

The bed was made with military precision, the corners tucked in so tightly you could bounce a coin off the blankets. The curtains were drawn back to let in the morning light. The water pitcher on the nightstand was still full, the towels in the washing basin folded and unused.

And on the small writing desk by the window, weighted down with a smooth river stone, was a single piece of paper covered in Nina's precise, careful handwriting.

My hands were shaking when I picked it up.

*Had to return to camp. Dr. Hawthorne needs help. —N*

The words blurred as I read them once, twice, three times, trying to make them mean something other than what they obviously meant. But there was no other interpretation. Nina was gone. Had packed up her few belongings and left sometime in the night while I'd been wrapped up in Regis's arms, too caught up in my own happiness to notice my friend was in trouble.

"Regis." I didn't realize I was already moving until I was halfway down the hall, the note clutched in my fist. The bond between us flared bright as I pushed urgency and fear through it, a wordless *come now, need you, something's wrong* that had him stumbling out of our room in his undershirt before I'd even reached the door.

"Eileen? What—"

"Nina's gone." I thrust the note at him, my voice coming out higher than I'd intended. "She left. Sometime last night, she just—she *left*."

I watched him read it, saw the moment his expression shifted from sleep-fogged confusion to sharp alertness. He was already reaching for his clothes, pulling on trousers and boots with the swift efficiency of someone used to emergencies. "Did the servants see her leave?"

"I don't know, I just found—"

"We'll ask." He paused long enough to frame my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away tears I hadn't realized were falling. "Breathe, love. We'll find her."

But his jaw was tight with the same worry I felt, and through the bond I caught flashes of his thoughts: *she wouldn't just leave, not without saying goodbye, something scared her, drove her away—*

We found Adrian in the garden.

Or rather, he found us—appeared on the path ahead as we were rushing toward the stables, already dressed despite the early hour. His hair was disheveled and there were shadows under his eyes that suggested he'd slept as poorly as I had, if at all.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, but there was something off about his tone. Too careful. Too measured.

Regis handed him the note without a word.

I watched Adrian's face as he read it. Watched the color drain from his skin, watched his hands curl into fists around the paper hard enough to crumple it. For just a second—so brief I might have imagined it—his eyes flashed amber, the wolf rising to the surface before he shoved it back down with visible effort.

"When did she leave?" His voice was absolutely level, but there was something underneath it that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"We don't know," I said. "Sometime last night, we think. Adrian, what—"

"Get horses." He was already striding toward the stables, his movements sharp and precise. "Check the north road first—that's the route back to the medical camp. She can't have gotten far on foot."

"How do you know she's on foot?" Regis asked quietly, falling into step beside him.

Adrian didn't answer. He was already shouting orders to the stablehands, his Alpha authority turning suggestions into immediate action. Within minutes we had horses saddled and a small search party assembled—Declan, two of Adrian's Betas, Regis and myself.

Adrian led us and spurred his horse toward the tree line.

We found her half a mile down the forest path.

She had her back to us, a traveling pack slung over one shoulder, walking with the kind of mechanical determination that suggested she'd been moving for hours. When she heard the hoofbeats she stopped, and even from a distance I could see the way her whole body went rigid.

Adrian was off his horse before it had fully stopped, covering the distance between them in long strides. "Nina."

She didn't turn around. Didn't move. Just stood there with her shoulders hunched like she was bracing for a blow.

"Please," Adrian said, and there was something raw in his voice that made my chest constrict. "Please. Just give me a chance to explain."

Slowly—so slowly—Nina turned to face us. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her face was pale, but her expression was perfectly, eerily calm.

"There's nothing to explain," she said softly. "I understand completely."

But Regis had dismounted too, and he was standing beside Adrian now with his hand on the other Alpha's shoulder, and through our bond I felt his shock and understanding crash into me like a wave.

*Oh,* I thought, pieces suddenly clicking into horrible place. *Oh no.*

"Nina," I started, dismounting as well, my legs shaking. "Nina, we didn't know—"

"It's fine." She cut me off with a small, brittle smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Really. I'm fine. I just need to go."

"You can't just—" Adrian started, then stopped, his jaw working like he was physically restraining the words. "Please. Let me at least—we need to talk about this. About what happened."

Nina's laugh was hollow. "What's there to talk about? You made your choice. It was the right one. I'm not going to stand here and—"

"My wolf wants to meet yours."

The words fell into the silence like stones into still water. Nina's eyes widened, something flickering across her face too fast for me to read.

"My wolf," Adrian repeated, his voice rough. "It wants to apologize. To her. For what I'm about to do."

And I realized, as the implications of that sank in, that whatever was happening here was so much bigger and more complicated than I'd imagined.