Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 62

Eileen

The afternoon passed in a blur of warmth I still couldn't quite believe was real.

Kristina led me through rooms filled with light and life—nothing like the cold, formal spaces I'd imagined. We ended up in a sunlit sitting room overlooking the gardens, where she'd arranged an elaborate tea service: delicate pastries, fresh fruit, honey cakes that smelled like childhood comfort.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like," she admitted, pouring tea into cups so fine I was afraid to touch them. "Regis said you've had a difficult few weeks. I thought something sweet might help."

Before I could answer, she produced a wrapped package from beside her chair. "This is for you. It's... well. It's tradition, but more than that, it's a promise."

My hands shook as I unwrapped it. Inside was a shawl unlike anything I'd ever seen—woven from some impossibly soft material that shimmered faintly silver in the light, embroidered with phases of the moon and delicate wolf silhouettes. It was clearly old, precious, *irreplaceable*.

"It's been passed down through the Luna line for generations," Kristina said softly. "My mother-in-law gave it to me the day Alfred and I completed our bond. Now it's yours."

I couldn't speak. Couldn't even look at her, because my eyes were burning and my throat had closed and if I tried to say anything I would absolutely fall apart.

Kristina seemed to understand. She rose and draped the shawl around my shoulders herself, the weight of it settling like a blessing. "You're one of us now, Eileen. You and the little one you're carrying. Nothing will change that."

That's when I broke.

I didn't mean to—I'd promised myself I'd hold it together, that I wouldn't embarrass Regis by being emotional and weak—but the kindness was too much. The acceptance was too much. I dissolved into ugly, gulping sobs while this incredible woman who should have been above me in every way simply held me and let me cry.

"I know, sweetheart," she murmured, stroking my hair. "I know it's been hard. But you're safe now. We've got you."

---

By the time dinner rolled around, I'd managed to pull myself together—at least outwardly. We gathered in a dining room that was somehow both grand and cozy, the table laden with enough food to feed an army. Alfred and Regis had joined us, and the conversation flowed easily around me while I tried to process everything.

Alfred was telling a story about Regis's childhood—something involving a training accident and a very undignified tumble into a mud pit—when he paused mid-sentence and turned to me with an expression of friendly interest.

"Eileen, we should arrange a time to visit your family as well. It's traditional for the families to meet after a mating bond is formed, and I'd like to—"

The fork slipped from my fingers and clattered against my plate with a sound like a gunshot.

Every head at the table turned toward me. I felt my face drain of color, felt the anxious flutter in my chest turn into full-blown panic. My family. He wanted to meet my *family*—the people who'd called me useless, who'd taken my money without thanks, who'd made it clear my entire life that I was worth less than nothing.

"They don't—" I started, then stopped. My voice came out strangled. "I haven't told them. About Regis. About... any of this."

The bond flared with Regis's sharp concern, and I felt him reach out through it, trying to understand the tangle of shame and fear churning through me. I couldn't bear for him to see it—couldn't bear for these kind, wonderful people to know just how broken my family was, how little they'd cared.

"Father," Regis said smoothly, his hand finding mine under the table and squeezing. "There's no rush. Let's give Eileen time to adjust first. Family introductions can wait."

Alfred and Kristina exchanged a look—the kind of wordless communication that came from decades of partnership. Something understanding passed between them.

"Of course," Kristina said gently. "We didn't mean to pressure you, dear. When you're ready—*if* you're ready—we'll be here. But there's no obligation."

The relief that washed through me was so intense I nearly started crying again. Regis's thumb stroked over my knuckles, a silent reassurance, and gradually the tightness in my chest eased.

The rest of dinner passed without incident, though I couldn't quite shake the shadow of that moment. By the time Kristina suggested we stay the night, I was exhausted enough to agree without argument.

---

Regis's childhood bedroom was nothing like I'd imagined.

I'd expected something austere—a space befitting a future Alpha, all dark wood and weapons displays. And while there *were* weapons mounted on one wall, the room itself felt... lived in. Warm. The bookshelves overflowed with everything from military strategy to poetry. A collection of awards and medals sat on the desk, carefully arranged. The bed was massive, piled with furs and pillows that looked impossibly soft.

"It's strange," Regis admitted, watching me take it all in. "I haven't slept here in years. It feels like stepping back in time."

I ran my fingers over the spines of the books, smiling despite my exhaustion. "I'm trying to imagine you as a boy. Were you always so serious?"

"Worse, probably." He came up behind me, his arms sliding around my waist to rest over the small swell of my stomach. "I was the kind of child who organized his toys by category and refused to play games unless everyone followed the rules exactly."

I turned in his embrace, reaching up to cup his face. "Our baby is going to be so confused when they realize their father is secretly a complete softie."

His expression turned tender, almost vulnerable. "They'll be luckier than I was, though. They'll have you."

Before I could respond, he kissed me—slow and sweet, tasting of honey and home—and guided me toward the bed.

---

We lay together in the darkness, my head on his chest and his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. Moonlight streamed through the window, painting everything silver, and for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt... safe. Wanted. Like I belonged somewhere.

"Regis?" I whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think I'll ever be like her? Your mother?" The question came out small, uncertain. "She's so... confident. Graceful. She knows exactly who she is."

His hand found my hair, fingers combing through it in soothing strokes. "You already are those things, Eileen. You just don't see it yet." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "But you will. I'll make sure of it."

I closed my eyes, letting his warmth and his words sink into the empty places inside me. Through the bond, I felt his wolf—Valdor—curled protectively around us both, and for the first time, I let myself believe it.

Maybe I really could become the Luna they saw when they looked at me.

Maybe I already was.