Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 148

Nina

The lavender bundle slipped from my fingers.

Not because I dropped it—because every muscle in my body locked up at the voice that suddenly filled my head.

*"Hello, Nina. It's been a long time."*

Male. Deep. Carrying a twisted kind of satisfaction that made my skin crawl.

I grabbed the storage shelf to keep from collapsing, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might crack a rib. Thea surged to the surface with a snarl, hackles raised in my mind.

This wasn't possible. I'd cut off all links decades ago. The moment I'd shoved Thea down and locked her away, I'd severed every mental connection to the wolf world. It was the only way to stay hidden, to stay *safe*.

So how—

*"Don't try to shut me out,"* the voice continued, amused. *"You can't. Not anymore. Not since you stopped suppressing that beautiful wolf of yours."*

My stomach dropped.

Of course. Thea was awake now. Active. The barriers I'd maintained for years had crumbled when I finally let her surface.

But links didn't work like this. You couldn't just *force* your way into someone's head. Both parties had to consent to open the channel. It was one of the fundamental rules—

Unless.

Unless there was a blood bond. Parent to child. Sibling to sibling.

The thought hit me like a physical blow, and I actually did drop to my knees this time, one hand pressed to the cold stone floor.

No.

*No.*

*"Your mother,"* Cornelius said, and hearing that name—that connection—made bile rise in my throat. *"Ianthe. She's not dead, Nina. She's been waiting for you all these years. Asking for you."*

The world tilted. My vision blurred.

Mother. Alive.

All these years. All the guilt, the nightmares, the certainty that I'd abandoned her to die in that stone prison—

*"She doesn't have much time left,"* he continued, his tone almost gentle. Almost. *"The years haven't been kind. If you want to see her... if you want answers... come to the creek in the western woods. You know the one. Sunset. Come alone."*

My hands were shaking so badly I had to grip my thighs to stop them. Thea was pacing frantically in my mind, whining, a sound of distress I'd never heard from her before.

*"I know you feel it, child. That pull. That... connection. There are things you need to understand about where you come from. About what you are."*

The link went silent.

I stayed on the floor, gasping for air like I'd been underwater. My pulse thundered in my ears. The lavender I'd dropped lay scattered around me, the dried flowers releasing their scent—usually calming, now suffocating.

Blood bond. Forced link. No permission needed.

My mind kept circling back to it, kept trying to find another explanation, but there wasn't one.

Cornelius could speak directly into my head because we shared blood.

Which meant—

I pressed both hands to my mouth, fighting the urge to vomit.

The man who'd imprisoned my mother. Who'd done those *things* to her. Who'd turned her into a weapon and broken her piece by piece.

That man was my father.

Thea let out a howl inside my skull, pure anguish, and I felt tears streaming down my face before I even registered that I was crying.

*He's our sire,* she said, the words jagged with horror. *The monster who hurt Mother. Who created us.*

"No," I whispered out loud. "No, no, no—"

But my body knew the truth. Knew it in the way my wolf recoiled from the link. Knew it in the sick recognition that had sparked when I saw his face on that wanted poster.

I'd spent thirty years convinced I was a mistake. An abomination. The product of violence I couldn't even fully remember.

And now I had a name to attach to that violence. A face.

*My father.*

---

I don't know how long I sat there. Long enough for the sun to shift angles through the high window. Long enough for the stone to make my knees ache.

When I finally pushed myself upright, my legs were unsteady. My hands still trembled.

But beneath the horror, beneath the nausea, something else was rising.

Mother was alive.

Cornelius was a monster. This was obviously a trap. He wanted something from me—my blood, my magic, whatever twisted purpose he'd been working toward all these years.

But if there was even a *chance* Mother was really there...

If she'd spent decades in that prison, thinking I'd abandoned her. Thinking I'd run and never looked back.

I couldn't leave her. Not again.

*This is insane,* Thea said, but her voice was uncertain. *He'll capture us. Use us like he used her.*

*Maybe,* I thought back. *But can you live with never knowing? Never trying?*

She was silent for a long moment.

Then: *No. We face him. Together.*

I straightened slowly, wiping my face with the back of my hand. My reflection in the darkened window showed red eyes, pale cheeks. I looked like I'd seen a ghost.

In a way, I had.

I moved on autopilot—changing into dark, practical clothes. Tucking a small knife into my belt. Grabbing a few basic healing vials, though I doubted they'd help against whatever Cornelius had planned.

On my desk, my notebook lay open to a half-finished sketch of bloodbane compound structures. I stared at it for a moment, then flipped to a blank page and wrote quickly:

*If I don't return by dawn: Western woods, the creek where wild mint grows. Cornelius contacted me through the link. He claims my mother is alive. I had to know. I'm sorry. —N*

I slid the notebook under my pillow. Not obvious, but Eileen was observant. If she came looking for me...

*If,* I thought grimly.

At the door, I paused. Looked back at this small, sparse room that had somehow become the safest place I'd ever lived.

Eileen's kindness. Mira's warmth. The medical staff's gradual acceptance.

For the first time in my life, I'd started to believe I might belong somewhere.

*And now I'm walking into a trap,* I thought.

But I couldn't not go. Couldn't live with the possibility that Mother was out there, suffering, waiting.

Thea stirred, a low rumble of agreement. *We're stronger now. Not the frightened child who ran. If he wants a fight, we'll give him one.*

I pulled the door closed behind me and headed for the western woods.

---

The forest swallowed the sunset, turning everything blood-red and shadow-black. I'd told myself I was just going to observe from a distance. Scout the area. Make sure it wasn't an ambush before committing.

But the closer I got, the more that plan dissolved.

*Wait,* I told Thea, though every instinct screamed to run forward.

Through the trees ahead, I could see the creek. The wild mint grew thick here, just like Cornelius had said. And there, near the water's edge, was a small tent.

And a figure in a dark cloak, waiting.

He turned as I approached, and even in the dying light, I recognized him from the wanted poster. Iron-gray hair. Sharp features. Cold eyes that tracked my movement with predatory focus.

"You came," he said. His voice was the same as in my head—smooth, controlled. "Good girl."

The words made my skin crawl. I stopped ten feet away, keeping distance between us.

"Where is she?" My voice came out steadier than I felt. "You said she's alive. I want to see her."

Cornelius smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "She's inside. Resting. The years haven't been kind, as I mentioned." He gestured toward the tent, then folded his arms. "But first... we should talk. Father and daughter. Don't you think?"

The words hung in the air between us.

He'd said it. Confirmed it. No more wondering, no more desperate hoping I was wrong.

The monster who'd destroyed my mother's life was my father.

My vision swam. Thea snarled in my mind, a sound of pure fury and grief. I wanted to shift, to let her take over, to tear out his throat—

But Mother was in that tent. I could smell her. Hear her shallow breathing.

"Let me see her," I said through gritted teeth. "Now."

Cornelius studied me for a long moment, then inclined his head. "As you wish."

I moved past him, every nerve screaming danger, and pushed aside the tent flap.