Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 68

Eileen

"Research." I stood slowly, keeping my voice level even as my pulse hammered. "Ms. Ward asked for volunteers to study the border infections."

"Research." Celeste's laugh was sharp as breaking glass. "That's generous. More like using real warriors as practice subjects." She turned to Derek, lowering her voice just enough to a mock whisper. "I heard from someone in her class that she's been showing off lately. Acting like she knows more than the certified healers."

"That's not—" I started, but she steamrolled over me.

"What happens if your little 'research' makes them worse?" Her eyes glittered with malice. "Can you take responsibility for that? Or will you just run away like you always do?"

The watching warriors shifted, exchanging glances. I felt their growing skepticism like a physical weight. This was what they'd expected all along—some privileged student playing at medicine, someone who couldn't handle real consequences.

Mira slammed her notebook on the bedside table. "She has authorization from Alpha Vane himself! If you're questioning her presence here, you're questioning *him*."

I pulled out the pass, hands only shaking slightly. Derek's eyes locked on Regis's signature, and something complicated flashed across his face. Jealousy? Anger? Recognition that I'd moved beyond his sphere entirely?

I met his gaze squarely. "I’m here because I earned it. And I’m not walking away."

Celeste's face went white, then red. She grabbed Derek's arm. "Come on. Let's check on Blake. I'm sure he doesn't want to be disturbed by... this."

As they retreated, she shot me one last venomous look. "Watch yourself."

The threat hung in the air long after they'd disappeared.

"Don’t listen to her," a female warrior beside me muttered. "That one’s all bark. Always has been. I believe in you, kid."

I gave her a grateful look and nodded. She was brave and kind, and I silently promised myself I’d heal her no matter what.

But the damage was done. I could feel it in the room's atmosphere, the way other patients studied me with renewed suspicion. Whatever trust I'd been building had cracked.

Mira squeezed my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Fine." I wasn't, but we had work to do. "Let's finish the documentation."

---

The library's restricted section smelled like old parchment and possibility.

I'd been here for hours, Mira having left for dinner with promises to bring food back. The ancient texts spread before me contained references to purification herbs that modern medicine had largely abandoned.

My eyes burned. My back ached. But every time I thought about stopping, I saw those wounded warriors. Saw Regis's careful control when he came home from border patrols.

If I didn't find something—anything—that could help...

"Eileen." Mira's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "It's late. We should—"

"Not yet." I flipped another page, scanning the cramped handwriting. "I'm close. I can feel it."

"You said that two hours ago."

"I *mean* it this time." My finger traced a passage about combination therapy, three herbs that together had properties neither possessed alone. "Look at this. If we mixed woundwort with silver leaf, then added lunar moss as a base..."

Mira leaned over my shoulder, reading quickly. "That could work. But the timing would be critical."

"Everything about this is critical." I grabbed a fresh page, sketching out the theoretical treatment plan. "We'd need to test the ratios, figure out the optimal application method, account for individual healing rates..."

"Eileen." Mira's hand covered mine, stilling my frantic writing. "You look exhausted."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." She met my eyes, expression soft with concern. "You're allowed to rest. The warriors will still be there tomorrow."

But would they be worse? Would someone die because I'd gone to bed an hour early?

"I can't stop," I whispered. "Not when I'm this close. Those men are suffering. I can't—" My voice cracked. "And I have to let them trust me."

Mira pulled me into a hug. "You are doing something. You already are. But you're no good to anyone if you collapse."

She was right. I knew she was right. But the urgency thrumming through my veins wouldn't let go.

Finally, I compromised. "One more hour. Then we go."

"Thirty minutes."

"Forty-five."

"Deal." She squeezed my shoulders. "But I'm timing you."

I nodded, pulling out my communicator to text Regis—letting him know I’d head home soon—before diving back into the notes.

---

Regis was waiting at the Academy gates when we emerged into the twilight. The sight of him—solid, familiar, *safe*—made something loosen in my chest.

"There you are." Relief colored his voice as I approached. "I was starting to worry."

"Library research." I let him guide me toward the carriage, suddenly aware of how heavy my limbs felt. "Lost track of time."

His hand settled at the small of my back, warm through my dress. "Find anything useful?"

I nodded, too tired to form a complete sentence. Mira had already peeled off toward the dining hall, promising to check on me tomorrow. The carriage interior felt like a sanctuary—dim, quiet, smelling faintly of cedar and leather.

"Tell me," Regis said as the horses started moving.

So I did. I explained the infection patterns, the warriors' testimonies, the herbal combinations I'd discovered in the archives. He listened intently, asking clarifying questions, his thumb tracing absent patterns on my hand.

"The warriors weren't exactly welcoming," I admitted. "They don't trust me."

His grip tightened fractionally. "I can accompany you tomorrow. Make it clear that you have my full support."

"No." The word came out sharper than I'd intended. I softened my tone. "I appreciate it, but that would just make things worse. They'd think I was hiding behind your authority instead of earning their trust on my own."

He studied me in the dim light, something like pride warming his expression. "You want to prove yourself."

"I *need* to prove myself." I looked down at our joined hands. "Not just to them. To me. I need to know I can do this—that I'm not just... taking up space. Using resources I don't deserve."

"Eileen—"

"I know what you'll say." I met his eyes. "That I've already proven myself. That I saved your life. But this is different. This is about contributing to something bigger than just us. Making myself useful to the pack. To the territory."

Understanding flickered through the bond. He drew me closer, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Then prove it. Show them what I already know—that you're brilliant, capable, and exactly where you're meant to be."

The faith in his voice threatened to undo me. "What if I fail?"

"Then you try again." His lips brushed my forehead. "That's what warriors do. That's what *you* do."