Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 17

Eileen

I woke to the sound of voices in the hallway—loud, cheerful, the kind of noise that only happened when classes were canceled and students had nowhere urgent to be. For a moment I just lay there, disoriented, until I remembered: today was Friday. The start of the three-day monthly break.

I blinked at the ceiling, then turned my head toward the window. The light was already bright, slanting through the thin curtains in sharp golden lines. My gaze drifted to the small clock on the nightstand: nearly nine o'clock.

I'd slept later than I meant to.

Mira was already up, humming to herself as she rummaged through her wardrobe, pulling out dresses and folding them into her travel bag. The sound was cheerful, almost musical, and it made something in my chest tighten with a strange mix of fondness and loneliness.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes. My body felt heavy, like I'd been running all night in my sleep. *This week finally passed,* I thought. *I've been avoiding him. Avoiding the training grounds, avoiding the hallways where his office might be, avoiding even the possibility of running into him.*

The memory of Monday's Defense class surfaced—me hiding in the back row, staring at my notebook, too afraid to even lift my head. He hadn't called my name. Hadn't looked my way, as far as I could tell. It was as if we'd silently agreed to pretend the other didn't exist.

And the mark... I'd been checking it every morning. Watching it fade from vivid silver crescents to blurred outlines. Each day a little less. Each day a little closer to disappearing entirely.

*This is for the best,* I'd told myself over and over. But my fingers always lingered on the spot longer than they should have, as if I could hold onto something that was already slipping away.

"Eil!" Mira's voice broke through my thoughts. "You're finally awake. I was starting to think you'd sleep through the whole morning."

I managed a small smile. "Sorry. I forgot we would go home."

"Three-day break, finally." She held up a pale green dress, considered it, then tossed it onto the bed. "A lot of students left yesterday afternoon to get home early, but you know how I hate rushing." She glanced at me, her expression softening. "You're going home today too, right?"

My stomach tightened. "Yeah. My family's expecting me."

Mira's mouth pressed into a thin line, but she didn't say anything at first. She'd made her opinion of my family clear enough times before. Instead, she folded another dress and tucked it into her bag. "Well, at least it's only less than three days. You'll be back before you know it."

I nodded, though the thought of going home felt like a weight settling over my chest.

I pushed the blankets aside and stood, my hand automatically going to my neck. The skin there felt... normal. No lingering warmth. No faint pulse beneath my fingertips.

Just smooth, unremarkable skin.

The mark was really gone. Completely gone.

I should have felt relieved. No more hiding. No more constant fear that someone would notice. No more lying to Mira or avoiding mirrors or tugging my scarf higher every time someone came too close.

But relief wasn't what I felt.

Instead, there was just... emptiness. A hollow ache that spread from my throat down into my chest, settling somewhere near my heart.

I tried to summon the words I'd been telling myself all week. *This is better. This is what I wanted. Now I can move on. Now I can prepare myself to accept his rejection, and after that, he'll just be the combat instructor and I'll just be a student. He'll find a proper mate someday. Someone worthy of him.*

Then I started pulling clothes from my drawer, folding them into my old canvas bag. A few plain dresses. An extra scarf. The small pouch of herbs I kept for emergencies.

Mira glanced over at me, her brow furrowing slightly. "You okay, Eil? You look kind of... I don't know. unwell."

"I'm fine," I said quickly. "Just tired. It's been a long week."

She studied me for a moment, then sighed. "You've been working too hard again, haven't you? I swear, you're going to burn yourself out."

I didn't answer. What could I say? That I'd been avoiding thinking about our instructor by burying myself in work? That I'd been checking the mark obsessively, watching it fade day by day, and hating myself for caring?

Mira finished packing and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Okay, I think I'm ready. My family's carriage should be here soon." She crossed the room and pulled me into a quick hug. "I'll miss you, Eil."

"I'll miss you too," I murmured.

She pulled back, her hands still on my shoulders, and leaned in close—too close. I stiffened instinctively, but before I could step away, she paused, her nose wrinkling slightly.

"Eil... did you use a new perfume or something?"

My heart skipped. "What?"

"Your scent." She tilted her head, frowning. "It's different. Normally you smell like chamomile and apples—really fresh, you know? But today there's something else. Something... sweeter. Like honey."

I forced myself to breathe evenly, my mind racing. "I—I don't think so. Maybe it's the honey lip balm Greta gave me? I put some on this morning."

Mira leaned in again, sniffing delicately. "Mm, maybe. But it feels like it's coming from inside you, not from something you put on." She straightened, still looking puzzled. "It's not bad or anything. Just... different."

My pulse hammered in my ears. I could feel the blood draining from my face. I dug my nails into my palm, forcing the panic down, and kept my expression carefully neutral. "Maybe I've been eating too many sweets lately. You know how the kitchen always has extra pastries."

She didn't look entirely convinced, but after a moment she shrugged. "Yeah, maybe." She picked up her bag again. "Anyway, I really do need to go. The carriage will be here any minute."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

She gave me one last smile and squeezed my hand. "Take care of yourself, okay? And if your family gives you any trouble, you send me a message. I don't care if it's the middle of the night."

"I will," I promised.

She headed for the door, pausing only to wave before disappearing into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind her, and suddenly the room felt impossibly quiet.

I stood there for a long moment, frozen, before slowly lifting my wrist to my nose.

Chamomile. Green apples.

And underneath it, faint but unmistakable—a clinging sweetness that hadn't been there before.

My stomach dropped.

*No. No, no, no.*

I sank onto the edge of my bed, my hand pressed to my mouth. My mind raced, pulling up fragments of things I'd read in my healing texts, things I'd studied without ever thinking they'd apply to me.

*Pregnant wolves develop a change in scent. A sweetness. It's subtle at first, but it's there—meant to signal their condition, to trigger protective instincts in their pack.*

But that couldn't be. Wolfless women almost never conceived. The texts had been clear on that. Our bodies lacked the hormonal surges that came with a proper heat cycle. We didn't bond the way mated pairs did.

And yet.

I pressed my hand to my stomach, my fingers trembling.

*It's only been two weeks. Even if—even if something happened that night, it's too soon. Isn't it?*

But the sweetness lingered, undeniable and terrifying.

I thought of everything I'd read in the library about incomplete bonds. About marks that faded because the wearer couldn't complete the mating process. About how wolfless women were considered... defective.

*If I'm pregnant, it's because I'm broken,* I thought, the words bitter and sharp. *Because my body doesn't work the way it's supposed to. Because I can't even bond properly, let alone carry a child.*

I doubled over, pressing my forehead to my knees, trying to breathe through the panic clawing at my chest.

*What do I do?*

I couldn't tell anyone. Not Mira. Not my parents. And certainly not him.

Not until I knew for sure.