Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 37

Eileen

"Come on," Mira said as we left the Healing classroom, linking her arm through mine with exaggerated enthusiasm. "I'm walking you to the gate. I barely going to see you now that you've moved in with your mate."

I felt heat flood my face. "Mira—"

"What? It's true!" She squeezed my arm, her brown-red eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're living with the hottest Alpha instructor this Academy has ever seen, probably getting pampered within an inch of your life, and meanwhile I'm stuck in a dorm where the walls are so thin I can hear my neighbor breathe—and the only person I talk to is myself."

Despite my embarrassment, I couldn't help but smile. I had missed this—her easy teasing, the warmth of her friendship. "I've missed you too."

"Ugh, I seriously need to get one of those communicators like yours." She bounced slightly as we walked. "That way I can contact you for emergencies."

"What kind of emergencies?"

"Like when I'm dying to know if he's kissed you yet." She grinned at my scandalized expression. "Don't give me that look. I'm invested in your happiness. It's what friends do."

I shook my head, but couldn't suppress my smile. We walked together down the stone pathway toward the main gate, Mira chattering about her day, and for a few moments everything felt normal and light.

Then I saw them.

Derek and Celeste were walking toward us along the same path, hand in hand, their heads tilted together in intimate conversation. My steps faltered instinctively, my body wanting to veer away, to avoid the confrontation.

But Mira's grip on my arm tightened. "Don't," she murmured. "We have just as much right to be here."

My heart hammered as they drew closer. Part of me still flinched at the sight of Derek, at the memory of two years spent hoping he'd notice me. But underneath that old ache was something new—a strange clarity.

I had Regis now. I had a mate who actually wanted me, who prepared my meals and worried about my rest and looked at me like I mattered.

Derek was nothing compared to that.

Celeste saw us first. Her silver-gray eyes widened, then her perfect nose wrinkled in exaggerated distaste.

"Oh my *goddess*," she said loudly, her voice dripping with false concern. "Eileen, what is that *smell*?"

I felt Mira stiffen beside me, but I forced myself to remain calm. The masking herbs I used to hide my pregnancy scent did have an unusual odor—slightly medicinal, faintly bitter. I'd known that when I started using them.

"Seriously, what is that?" Celeste continued, moving closer with Derek still attached to her arm. She made a show of waving her hand in front of her nose. "It's absolutely *bizarre*. Are you trying to attract a male with scent? Because honey, this is *not* the way to do it."

"It's kind of suffocating," Derek added, his tone carrying that particular blend of mockery and false sympathy I'd once mistaken for charm. "You might want to, I don't know, try something more subtle? This just screams desperation."

The words stung—of course they did. But the sting was distant, muted. I looked at Derek, really looked at him, and felt something close to pity mixed with bewilderment.

*This* was the male I'd spent two years pining over? This shallow, cruel Beta who got his validation from putting others down? Who'd let me trail after him while he enjoyed the attention, never caring how it made me feel?

I'd been so blind. So desperate for any scrap of affection that I'd convinced myself his indifference was somehow romantic.

But I saw him clearly now. And compared to Regis—to the way Regis looked at me, spoke to me, cared for me—Derek was pathetic.

Before I could respond, Celeste tilted her head with exaggerated sympathy. "You know what? I have some perfumes I don't use anymore. I could give them to you if you want? Save you from embarrassing yourself like this."

Derek nodded sagely, as if he were doing me a favor. "Honestly, Eileen, you should just... accept who you are. Stop trying so hard to be something you're not. Wolf-less is wolf-less. No amount of weird herbs is going to change that, and pretending otherwise just makes you look—"

"*Pathetic*?" Mira cut in, her voice sharp as a blade. "Is that what you were going to say? Because I can think of a lot of words for what's pathetic right now, and they all apply to *you*."

Derek's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused," Mira shot back. "In fact, why don't you both excuse yourselves from this conversation? Because honestly, you two are *perfect* for each other. Both shallow, both mean, both so insecure you have to tear down others to feel good about yourselves!"

Celeste's face flushed an ugly red. "How dare you—"

"How dare *I*?" Mira stepped forward, practically vibrating with fury. "How dare *you*! Eileen has a *mate*, you know. A real one. Someone who actually values her, who treats her with respect, who—"

"A mate?" Derek's voice cracked slightly, his expression shifting to something between disbelief and offense. "That's... Eileen, that's impossible. What kind of male are you with? Some desperate—"

"Her mate is a hundred times the male you'll ever be!" Mira's voice rose, drawing attention from passing students. "He's strong and gentle and he actually *cares* about her, which is more than I can say for you!"

"She's lying," Celeste said flatly, her silver eyes narrowing at me. "No normal man would choose a wolf-less—"

"Wouldn't what?" Mira's voice was dangerous now. "Wouldn't want someone kind and intelligent and talented? Oh wait, you wouldn't recognize those qualities because you don't have any yourselves!"

A small crowd had begun to gather, drawn by the raised voices. I could feel their curious stares, hear their whispered speculation. My face burned with humiliation, but beneath it was something else.

Warmth. Gratitude for Mira, standing there defending me with all the fire I'd never been able to summon for myself.

And underneath that, a quiet certainty: She was right. I *did* have a mate. And he was worth a thousand Dereks.

Derek's face had gone strangely pale, his eyes fixed on me with an expression I couldn't quite read. Shock? Jealousy? Wounded pride?

"You're making this up," he said, but there was uncertainty in his voice now. "You can't possibly—who would—"

"Someone who actually has standards," Mira snapped. "Unlike you, apparently."