Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 25

Eileen

The walk back from the viewing platform felt like moving through water. Everything seemed slightly unreal—the moonlight on the stone path, the careful distance Regis maintained beside me, the way his hand kept lifting slightly before falling back to his side. Twice I watched him almost reach for me, then stop himself, and each time something warm and painful twisted in my chest.

He was giving me space. Respecting boundaries I hadn't even known I needed.

"Are you sure you don't want to see the house tonight?" His voice was gentle as we approached the dormitory. "I could have a room ready in an hour. It's quiet there. Peaceful."

The offer pulled at me. A quiet house where I didn't have to pretend or hide sounded like something from a dream. But that was exactly the problem—everything felt too dreamlike already, reality shifting faster than I could process. I needed something familiar to hold onto while my world rearranged itself.

"I need a little time," I managed. "Just a few days. To get used to everything."

I braced for disappointment, for the subtle withdrawal I'd learned to expect. Instead, Regis just nodded, his expression softening. "Of course. Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."

The certainty in those words—*I'm not going anywhere*—hit harder than any promise. He said it like a simple fact, and something clenched tight in my chest began to unfurl.

We stopped in the shadows beyond the dormitory lights. Regis turned to face me, and even in the darkness I could see the control he was exercising, keeping his hands at his sides when every line of his body seemed to lean toward me.

"Get some rest," he said softly. "Eat something if you can. And if anything feels wrong, if you need to hear a voice, contact me. It doesn't matter what time." His eyes caught the moonlight. "Don't try to handle everything alone anymore."

The lump in my throat made it hard to speak, so I just nodded. He watched me for a long moment before finally stepping back, creating more space even though it clearly cost him something.

"Goodnight, Eileen."

"Goodnight, Mr. Vane," I whispered, then turned and walked to the entrance, feeling his presence behind me until the door clicked shut.

Inside, I leaned against the wall, my legs suddenly shaky. *He wants the baby. He wants me. This is real.* The words cycled through my mind as I climbed the stairs, each step feeling slightly unsteady, as if the ground itself had become uncertain.

Had I really just agreed to all of this? To carrying my instructor's child, to whatever this complicated thing between us was becoming?

The idea would have seemed impossible before all this. Now here I was, actually expecting to get used to it, expecting a home that was filled with warmth rather than cold indifference.

The dormitory hallway was blessedly empty when I reached my floor. I was fumbling with my key when the door swung open from inside, revealing Mira's beaming face.

"You're back!" She grabbed me in an enthusiastic hug, pulling me into the room with enough force that I stumbled. "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost! Look, look at all this!"

Her bed was covered in food: strips of dried meat that smelled of smoke and herbs, crystallized berries gleaming like jewels in lamplight, thick slices of honey cake, and a small jar of golden honey.

The sudden shift from weighted intimacy to Mira's bright, uncomplicated affection was so jarring I just stood there, staring at the spread while my brain tried to catch up.

"Mom made me bring all this for you," Mira continued, apparently not noticing my dazed expression. "She said you looked too thin last time you visited, and she's convinced you're not eating properly. Which, to be fair, you're probably not." She picked up a piece of honey cake and thrust it toward me. "Here, try this. She just made it yesterday."

The sweet, rich scent hit my nose, and my stomach—knotted all evening—suddenly reminded me I'd barely eaten all day. I took the cake automatically, my fingers closing around the soft, sticky slice.

"There, see? I knew you'd want some." Mira's face lit up with satisfaction. "Oh, and she sent this special healing herb mix too. Said it's good for energy and—" She paused, peering at me more closely. "Eileen? Are you okay? You look kind of... I don't know, like you've seen a ghost or something."

I blinked, trying to organize my thoughts, but what came out was: "Mira, I'm not dreaming, am I?"

She laughed, warm and familiar and grounding. "What? No, you're definitely awake. Though if you were dreaming, I'd be offended that dream-me is still obsessing over food." She reached out and pinched my cheek gently, her fingers warm against my skin. "See? Solid. Real. Not a dream. Why, are you feeling weird? Did something happen?"

The urge to tell her everything rose up so strongly I had to physically bite my tongue. About the pregnancy, about Regis, about the impossible choice I'd just made. But I couldn't. Not yet. Not when I hadn't even begun to process it myself, not when it involved Regis's privacy as much as my own.

"Just tired," I managed, forcing my lips into something approximating a smile. "It's been a long day."

Mira studied me for another moment, hovering between concern and curiosity, before she seemed to accept my explanation. "Well, sit down then. Eat something. Mom will actually kill me if I let you waste away on my watch." She patted the bed beside her.

I sank down onto the worn quilt, and she immediately pushed more food at me—a strip of the smoked meat, some of the berries. "She also packed this for you specifically," Mira said, holding up a small cloth bundle. "Some kind of fortifying tea blend. You know how she is about her herbs."

As I nibbled at the honey cake, Mira chattered on about her break—her mother's new recipe experiments, her younger brother's latest training mishap, the absolutely scandalous thing her neighbor's daughter had done at the last full moon gathering. I let the normalcy of it wash over me, let her voice and the familiar comfort of our shared room anchor me back to something real and simple.

This was real too, I realized. Not just the terrifying future waiting for me, but this: friendship, someone caring enough to bring me food and fuss over whether I was eating properly, someone who looked at me and saw a person worth taking care of.

"Thank you," I said suddenly, interrupting her story about her brother. "For bringing all this. For... for caring."

Mira blinked, then her expression softened. "Of course I care, you idiot. We're friends. That's what friends do." She bumped her shoulder against mine. "Besides, someone has to make sure you don't work yourself to death in those kitchens."

Late that night, after Mira had fallen asleep, I lay staring at the ceiling. Moonlight came through the window as I placed my hand on my stomach.

This morning I'd woken up alone and scared. Now I had Regis's promise, Mira's support, and this life growing inside me. People like me didn't get wanted—we got used, tossed aside. But Regis looked at me like I mattered. Called this baby "ours" like it was obvious.

And here I was, about to do something crazy—accepting the mate bond with my instructor. The thing that would make me both his student and his mate, sitting in his class while pregnant with his child.

It probably started that night when everything changed. I was just finally letting myself want what felt right.

The idea still scared me. But under the fear was something new: hope.

What if I was worth wanting? What if this wasn't a dream? What if when Regis said he wanted me, he actually meant it?

I closed my eyes, hand still on my stomach, and let myself believe it.