Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 26

Eileen

I woke before my usual time, which surprised me. Normally I had to drag myself from sleep, already exhausted before the day began. But this morning my eyes opened to pre-dawn grey, and instead of the familiar dread, there was something lighter.

Before Mira stirred, I slipped to the bathroom with the small vial I'd prepared last night—an improved version of the scent-masking mixture, adjusted based on what I'd learned from the healing texts. The pregnancy sweetness was growing stronger each day, and I couldn't risk anyone noticing. The cool liquid settled over my skin, and I waited until the telltale honey-warmth faded beneath the neutral herbal scent before returning to dress.

My hand drifted to my stomach as I gathered my books. *He wants this baby. He wants me.* The words still felt impossible, but they'd carried me through the night and into this strange new morning where everything looked the same but felt fundamentally different.

When Mira woke and caught me staring at the ceiling, she squinted suspiciously. "You look different. Did something good happen?"

My heart jumped. "Just slept well," I managed, perhaps too quickly.

She watched me with narrowed eyes as we prepared for class, her curiosity a tangible presence, but mercifully didn't push further.

Walking to the combat theory building, I felt lighter despite the nausea that still lurked at the edges of my awareness. I caught myself actually looking forward to seeing Regis, then had to suppress the urge to laugh at the absurdity. Yesterday I'd been terrified. Today I was eager.

"You're being weird," Mira announced as we climbed the stairs. "Not bad weird, just different."

"I'm fine," I said, which was both true and completely inadequate.

Instead of our usual back-row seats, I chose a spot in the middle, closer to the front. Mira's eyebrows rose but she followed without comment.

Two healing track students, Lydia and Clara, sat directly ahead of us, their whispered conversation carrying in the pre-class chatter.

"I'm telling you, I saw him last night on the viewing platform," Lydia was saying. "That silhouette was definitely Vane, and he was with someone. A girl, standing really close."

Clara leaned in eagerly. "Do you think it's his mate? Can you imagine being bonded to Instructor Vane?"

My face went hot. I stared at my notebook while my pulse hammered. *That girl was me.*

Mira elbowed me, eyes bright. "Did you hear? The instructor might have a mate! Probably some noble's daughter with perfect bloodlines, right?"

"I don't know," I said too sharply, cheeks burning.

"Why are you blushing?" Mira's grin widened. "Do you have a crush on Instructor Vane?"

"No! I just—we should focus on class."

Her delighted expression suggested she wasn't convinced, and I wanted to sink through the floor.

The room fell silent as Regis entered. His gaze swept the classroom in his usual assessment, and when those ice-blue eyes found me, they paused. Just for a heartbeat, but I felt it like a physical touch—a moment of connection acknowledging everything between us before his attention moved on.

I'd seen the subtle softening in his expression, the barely perceptible easing of tension in his shoulders. He'd been checking on me.

"Today we'll continue our discussion of territorial defense tactics," he began, falling into the measured cadence of instruction.

I tried to focus, to take notes like a diligent student. But my attention kept fragmenting, drawn to details I'd never let myself notice before—the way his hands moved when gesturing, the controlled power in every movement, the cedar and mint scent that seemed stronger now, pulling at something deep in my chest.

Twice during lecture, our eyes met. The first time, his gaze landed on me mid-sentence and something flickered in his expression—concern, awareness. The second time, near the end of class, he looked directly at me while discussing the importance of protecting vulnerable pack members, and I could have sworn the corner of his mouth softened.

Each time my heart stuttered and I had to look away first, unable to hold that intense gaze without feeling like everyone must see what was written on my face.

"Instructor Vane keeps looking at you," Mira whispered. "I'm not imagining it."

"You're seeing things," I muttered, but my cheeks were definitely red.

When class ended, Regis's voice carried over the shuffling: "Don't forget—your defense formation designs are due next week. I expect functional prototypes, not just sketches." His eyes found mine again, holding for just a fraction longer before releasing me.

At lunch, I carefully selected only bland foods—vegetable soup, plain bread. The rich smells of roasted meat made my stomach clench warningly.

"Since when do you eat like a rabbit?" Mira eyed my tray with concern. "Are you sick?"

"Just wanted something light," I said, which was technically true.

We were navigating through the crowded hall when a sharp shoulder caught my arm. My tray tilted dangerously, soup sloshing near the rim before I managed to steady it. Nina Grey swept past without slowing, her expression as coldly indifferent as ever. "Sorry," she threw over her shoulder, the word perfunctory and clearly insincere.

"Watch it!" Mira called after her, then turned to me with exasperation. "Honestly, does she do that on purpose? I swear she's gotten even more hostile lately."

She shook her head as we slid into our seats.

"You know what's strange? You and Nina were both recommended from the basic academy at the same time, both top of your healing studies. But I’ve never seen her start a conversation with anyone. Not once. It’s like she goes out of her way to keep her distance."

Mira was right—Nina's distance wasn’t just shyness; it felt intentional, the same quiet wall she kept between herself and everyone else.

"Maybe she just doesn’t want social stuff getting in the way," I offered, though the explanation felt incomplete.

"Getting in the way?" Mira raised an eyebrow. "You’re not exactly throwing parties. Saying hello isn’t going to wreck her focus. She’s the one who acts like people are distractions instead of… well, people." She stabbed at her food. "Talent’s great, but it’s not an excuse to forget basic courtesy."

Back at the suite that afternoon, Mira rummaged through her storage box with enthusiasm. "I almost forgot! Mom had me bring your favorite honey-preserved fruit."

She pried open the tin, and immediately an intensely sweet wave rolled out—honey and concentrated fruit sugar, cloying and thick. It hit like a physical blow.

I barely made it to the bathroom before retching over the sink, body convulsing with dry heaves. Distantly I heard Mira's alarmed voice, felt her hand on my back.

"Eileen!" Her face appeared beside mine in the mirror, pale with worry. "What's wrong? Should I get the healing instructor?"

I gripped the sink edge, waiting for my stomach to settle, for the room to stop tilting. When I could finally straighten, I found Mira staring with such genuine fear that something in my chest cracked. She was my best friend. My only friend. And I was lying to her while she worried and cared and brought me food from her mother.

The secret felt unbearable.

"Mira," I said, voice rough. "I need to tell you something." We were sitting cross-legged on my bed when I took a deep breath and said, "I'm… pregnant."