Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 88

Eileen

As we headed for the back door, I glanced toward the kitchen, catching sight of Regis preparing refreshments with practiced efficiency. He must have sensed my gaze because he looked up, offering me a smile so tender it made my heart squeeze.

Outside, the sunset painted the sky in soft oranges and pinks. Mira settled on the garden bench, and I sat beside her. For a while we simply watched the clouds drift past, savoring the rare moment of peace.

"I broke ties with my family," I finally said, my voice steadier than expected, "My parents. They... they chose money over me. Again. And this time, I let them go."

Mira whipped around to stare at me, eyes wide. Then, unexpectedly, rather than shock or sympathy, she said in an almost relieved tone, "Thank the Moon. About damn time."

I blinked, then couldn't help but laugh. "That's your reaction?"

"Eileen, your family is toxic," she stated bluntly, "They've always been using you. I'm just glad you finally saw it and got out." She squeezed my hand, "I know it hurts. I know it's hard. But honestly? You're better off without them. You've always been better off."

Her words hit like a hammer striking truth I'd been afraid to acknowledge. Tears welled up, but this time they carried more relief than sorrow. "I know," I whispered, "I know I am."

"And you have Alpha Vane now," Mira added with a teasing lilt, "Who clearly adores you. Did you see the way he just looked at you? That was full-on 'you're my entire world' level devotion."

"Mira—"

"What? I'm stating facts," she shrugged, then pivoted, "Oh, speaking of facts, did you hear about Blake?"

I gratefully accepted the subject change, wiping my eyes. "No, what happened?"

"So you know Derek's friend Blake, right?" she began, eyes glinting with gossip, "The one who was injured from border patrol last week?"

I nodded, recalling him as the guy who had that stupid bet with Derek.

"Well," Mira leaned in as if sharing state secrets, "Turns out he faked an injury to avoid deployment. Claimed he hurt his inner thigh—you know, really close to his..." she made a meaningful gesture that made me laugh, "And he actually got assigned to the special treatment ward."

"You're kidding."

"I wish," Mira continued, clearly relishing the story, "But then Professor Ward went to examine him, and when she actually started pulling down his pants to treat the 'injury,' Blake literally jumped out of bed screaming 'I'm fine! I'm fine!'"

I dissolved into genuine laughter, the kind that felt rusty from disuse. "He didn't."

"He did!" Mira laughed too, "Completely exposed himself as a fraud. Now Professor Ward's banned him from any advanced healing services. He can only get basic bandages. Plus, his instructor piled on extra punishment duties."

"That's..." I shook my head, still smiling, "Actually kind of pathetic and hilarious."

"Exactly," Mira said, her expression softening, "I'm glad to see you really smile again, Eileen. Really smile."

We stayed in the garden until full darkness fell, talking and sitting in comfortable silence by turns. When we finally returned inside, we found Regis had prepared dinner—a generous spread that filled the house with mouthwatering aromas.

"I hope you don't mind," Regis told Mira with polite warmth, "But I made enough for three. You're welcome to stay."

Mira's eyes lit up. "Really? If it's not too much trouble—"

"Not at all," he said, glancing at me questioningly. I nodded my agreement.

Dinner was lovely. Mira kept praising Regis's cooking, marveling that she'd never imagined him so domestic, so approachable. I sat watching them interact, feeling an odd swell of pride—this was my mate, the one who chose me, who cooked for me.

"You know," Mira said around her third piece of roasted meat, "I don't feel scared of you anymore at all, Instructor Vane. You're actually pretty... normal. In a good way."

Regis's mouth quirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Can I come over and mooch food sometimes?" Mira asked suddenly, eyes hopeful.

I almost answered instinctively: "Well—"

I caught myself before finishing, realizing what I'd been about to say. I'd wanted to refuse, to declare this our space, not to be shared. But I swallowed those words, recognizing how selfish they'd sound.

Mira seemed to notice my hesitation, understanding flashing in her eyes. "I mean," she amended quickly, "Only when you make too much and have leftovers. I totally understand wanting privacy."

"How about this," I offered, finding middle ground, "When Regis makes too much, I'll bring some to you at school?"

Mira's face broke into a radiant smile. "Deal! That sounds perfect."

After dinner, Regis arranged a carriage to take Mira back to campus. We stood in the doorway seeing her off, and she hugged me tightly before leaving. "Take care of yourself," she whispered in my ear, "And let him take care of you too."

"I will," I promised.

As the carriage vanished into the night, Regis slipped his arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin atop my head. "That went well," he observed.

"Yeah," I agreed, leaning back against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, "It did."

We remained there for a while, standing in the night breeze outside the door of our home. I realized suddenly that this was the first time I'd truly thought of it as "our home," the first time I'd felt that instinct to guard this space, to keep it sacred from intrusion. It felt strange and new, yet simultaneously natural and right.

"Ready to go back inside?" Regis asked, voice low and tender.

"Yeah," I said, turning in his arms to embrace him properly, "Let's go home."