Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 44

Eileen

We walked in comfortable silence for a moment before Mira's expression turned curious. "So, speaking of incidents—Greta mentioned something about 'that day.' What happened?"

I hesitated. The memory of Sophia's venom still stung, but I'd promised myself I wouldn't keep hiding. "Last week, Sophia came in while I was working. She... said some things."

"What kind of things?" Mira's voice had gone dangerously quiet.

"That I was taking her spot. That someone like me—" I swallowed. "That a wolfless waste had no business touching food meant for real wolves."

Mira stopped dead in the middle of the path. "She said *what*?"

"It's fine. Greta fired her on the spot."

"It is absolutely *not* fine!" Mira's face flushed with fury. "That entitled little—she only acts like that because she's dating Andrew Blackwell. You know, the Elder's son? She thinks having a powerful boyfriend makes her untouchable."

The name Andrew Blackwell sent an inexplicable shiver down my spine. I'd heard it before in passing—whispers about the Elder's youngest son, how he was charming in public but ruthless behind closed doors. "I didn't know."

"Well, now you do." Mira's eyes flashed. "Andrew's one of those wolves who gets away with everything because his father sits on the Council. And Sophia's learned to play the same game. But you know what? You have Regis. The Vane family doesn't bow to anyone, not even the Elders."

The fierce protectiveness in her voice made my chest tight. "Thank you. For caring."

She softened, squeezing my hand. "Always."

---

At the gate, Regis was already waiting beside the carriage, his tall frame unmistakable even in the late afternoon shadows. The moment he saw me, his posture relaxed, and he crossed the distance in long strides.

"How are you feeling?" His hand found the small of my back, a gesture that had become natural over the weekend.

"Better. I officially resigned."

"Good." Relief flickered across his features. "That's one less thing to worry about." He helped me into the carriage, then paused, his expression turning serious. "There's something I need to tell you. Tomorrow afternoon and evening, I have to return to the border for another inspection. The rogue activity has increased, and they need additional patrols."

My stomach dropped. "Oh."

He caught the shift in my mood immediately. "I don't want to leave you alone, especially after this weekend. But it's unavoidable."

"I understand." I forced a smile. "You have responsibilities."

"So do you." He cupped my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. "Your responsibility is to rest and take care of yourself and our child. Promise me—no overexerting yourself. If you feel even slightly unwell, you contact me immediately through the communicator. Understood?"

The intensity in his ice-blue eyes left no room for argument. "I promise."

"I'll be back as soon as possible." His voice dropped lower, almost rough. "I'll miss you."

Heat rushed to my cheeks, betraying me. "Me too." The words slipped out before I even realized I’d spoken.

For a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss me. His gaze dipped to my lips, and through the bond, I felt it — the surge of longing, the hunger he was holding back by sheer will. But instead, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, lingering just long enough to make my pulse race, before stepping away.

"Let's get you home."

---

The next afternoon, I stood outside the healing theory building, squinting up at the clear autumn sky. The weather was perfect—crisp and bright, with a gentle breeze that carried the scent of fallen leaves and distant woodsmoke. My last class had ended early, and for the first time in days, the bone-deep exhaustion had lifted just enough to let me stand without swaying.

But it wasn't health I felt. It was restlessness—a trapped energy born from being watched, tended to, wrapped in blankets and concern until I could barely breathe.

*I can't keep being treated like I'm made of glass.*

And I remembered something I'd read in one of the pregnancy books: *Moderate exercise promotes healthy circulation and resilience.* The words felt like permission, like proof that I wasn't being reckless—just reclaiming a small piece of control.

The path from the academy to Regis's estate was familiar now. If I took the shortcut through the academy's eastern woods and then cut through the residential district, it would only be about twenty minutes. The route was well-traveled during the day. Safe enough.

I pulled out the communicator, my thumb hovering over the driver, Liam's number. Regis had arranged for him to pick me up half an hour later. After a moment of hesitation, I called to tell Liam to cancel it.

*I need to prove I'm not useless. That I can still do something as simple as walk home.*

After telling Liam—again and again—that I’d be fine, I felt a strange mix of relief and defiance settle over me. Then I slipped the device back into my bag.

*He'll understand,* I told myself, even as doubt whispered at the edges. *It's just a walk. I'll be home before he even knows I left campus. And maybe—just maybe—I'll feel like myself again.*

I adjusted my satchel and started down the tree-lined path, my steps light. Around me, a few students lingered in small groups, their laughter echoing through the afternoon air. The sunlight filtering through the amber leaves felt like a benediction, warm and golden.

I hummed softly as I walked, one hand resting on my still-flat stomach. "We're going to be fine," I whispered to the tiny life inside me. "Just you and me for a little while. Then we'll be home."

The path curved gently, leading me deeper into the quieter section of the woods where the trees grew denser. The voices of other students faded behind me, replaced by the peaceful rustle of wind through branches. My feet found an easy rhythm on the packed earth.

Everything felt right. Safe. Normal.

I didn't notice when the shadows grew longer, or when the cheerful afternoon sounds disappeared entirely, leaving only the whisper of leaves and the steady beat of my own footsteps leading me forward into the gathering dusk.