Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 152

Regis

Something was wrong.

Silas danced backward again, his drug-enhanced reflexes letting him slip past my claws by a hair's breadth. The third time in as many minutes. Around us, the rogue wolves pressed in with coordinated attacks—not to kill, but to *wear me down*.

My wolf snarled in frustration. This wasn't how enemies fought when cornered. This was tactical delay.

*They're stalling.*

The realization hit like ice water. I twisted mid-lunge, scanning the battlefield. Kieran's team held the perimeter. Owen guarded the rear approach. The medical station sat half a mile back, supposedly secure.

*Supposedly.*

I reached through the bond, seeking Eileen's familiar warmth. Instead, I found only faint, carefully suppressed fear—like she was trying to hide from me.

My blood turned cold.

"Kieran!" I roared, not bothering with pretense anymore. "Fall back—this is a diversion!"

Silas's grin widened. "Figured it out, did you? Bit late, Vane."

Rage exploded through my veins. I didn't bother with strategy or restraint—just pure Alpha fury channeled into one devastating strike. My claws caught Silas across the chest, silver-laced and brutal. He went down hard, skull cracking against stone.

Unconscious or dying. Didn't matter.

I was already running.

"Regis, wait—!" Kieran's shout faded behind me as I tore back toward our lines, half-shifted and faster than any wolf in their right mind should move. The bond pulsed with wrongness now, Eileen's fear bleeding through despite her attempts to muffle it.

*What did you do? Where are you?*

I burst through the tree line into our rear position. The guards stood alert but confused. No sign of attack here.

No sign of Eileen.

"Where is she?" The words came out more growl than speech.

One of the junior warriors flinched. "Sir, I—we thought she was in the command tent with—"

"Move." I shoved past him, following the faint trace of her scent toward the medical tent. It stopped at the entrance. Just... stopped.

Then Mira stumbled out, face blotchy and tear-streaked, shaking so hard she could barely stand.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't wait, I thought—I thought if I waited the full twenty minutes she'd be *dead* and it would be my fault for just standing here like an *idiot*—"

My hands gripped her shoulders, probably too tight. "What twenty minutes? Where is Eileen?"

"Owen—" She sucked in a ragged breath. "Owen knocked out the last of the rogues near the perimeter and I told him to *go*, to follow her, he left maybe fifteen minutes ago with three others, but—" Her voice cracked. "What if I sent them to die too? What if—"

She thrust a crumpled parchment at me with trembling fingers. Blood-brown ink. Crude map. Words that made my wolf howl for vengeance:

*Come alone to the ravine one mile southeast. Thirty minutes, or the witch and her mother die. Bring anyone, and I slit their throats before you arrive.*

*You know what I want, little wolfless girl.*

The signature was unnecessary. I knew that handwriting.

Cornelius.

"When did she leave?" My voice came out deadly calm—the kind of calm that preceded slaughter.

"Twenty-five minutes ago." Mira's tears fell faster. "She made me promise to wait twenty minutes before sending help. She left this—" She held up a small vial, empty now. "Silverleaf oil. She marked the trail."

Smart girl. My brave, brilliant, *reckless* mate.

The bond suddenly flared with sharp, tearing pain. Not physical—not yet—but the psychic echo of absolute terror.

"Kieran!" I didn't wait for him to catch up. "Southeast ravine, one mile. Owen's already engaged—probably walked into a trap. Get everyone who can move and follow this scent trail." I grabbed the vial from Mira, catching the last traces of silverleaf mixed with Eileen's fear-sweat. "If I'm not back in thirty minutes—"

"We'll burn the whole fucking forest down to find you." Kieran appeared at my shoulder, breathing hard, blood on his armor. "Go. We're right behind you."

I went.

The silverleaf trail was faint but distinct enough for an Alpha's nose. I followed it at a dead sprint, half-shifted, letting my wolf's superior senses take over. Trees blurred past. My lungs burned. Didn't matter.

*Hold on. I'm coming.*

The bond pulsed again—pain, confusion, and underneath it all, a strange flutter of warmth. Like something was fighting *back* against whatever hurt her.

Then I caught Owen's scent. Blood. Poison. The acrid stink of dark magic.

And overlaying it all—rogues. Dozens of them, lying in ambush exactly where Cornelius knew I'd come barreling through.

*He planned for this. He planned for everything.*

The bond suddenly *screamed*.

Raw, visceral agony tore through our connection—the feeling of life being ripped away, blood spilling, lungs gasping for air that wouldn't come. Eileen wasn't hiding anymore. She couldn't.

She was dying.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" The words came out in a roar that shook the trees. I didn't wait for them to scatter—just charged straight into the ambush, fully shifted now, silver-black fur bristling with rage.

A wolf leaped for my throat. I caught him mid-air and *threw* him into a tree hard enough to crack the trunk. Another lunged from the side—I tore out his throat without slowing. Blood sprayed across my muzzle. More bodies in the way, trying to drag me down.

*She's dying she's dying she's dying—*

"Regis!" Kieran's voice, somewhere behind the red haze. "We've got this! GO!"

I went.

Claws scrabbling on stone, I hurtled down the ravine slope. The silverleaf trail ended here, overwhelmed by the reek of blood and dark magic. I shifted back to half-form—faster on two legs for this terrain—and vaulted over a fallen log.

The makeshift camp came into view.

Broken ritual circle. Purple light fading from cracked stone. Nina kneeling beside her unconscious mother, eyes glowing with fresh witch-light. Owen sprawled ten paces away, three poison arrows in his back, trying and failing to drag himself forward.

And in the center—

Eileen.

Collapsed on her side, one arm cradling her stomach, the other stretched uselessly toward Owen. Blood pooled beneath her from a gash on her wrist, soaking into the dirt. Her skin had gone the color of bone.

Above her stood Cornelius, ceremonial dagger raised for a killing strike.

The bond trembled in my chest—so faint I almost couldn't feel it. But *there*. Still there.

She was alive.

*Not for long,* my wolf snarled.

Cornelius's blade began its downward arc.

I *launched*.

Time slowed to a crawl. Every detail burned into my mind with crystal clarity: the twist of Cornelius's sneer, the purple runes flaring along the dagger's edge, Eileen's closed eyes and shallow breathing, Owen's hoarse shout of "Alpha—save her!"

My claws extended fully. My jaws opened in a soundless roar.

The blade fell.

I flew.