Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 91

Eileen

Regis opened the door before I reached it, his eyes scanning me with that instinctive protectiveness. "Eileen. How was your day?"

"Fine," I said automatically, climbing in. "Just... tired."

It wasn't entirely a lie. The emotional weight of the afternoon sat heavy on my shoulders. But as the carriage started moving and I settled against his side, I felt his concern deepen through the bond.

"Just tired?" His hand found mine, thumb tracing gentle circles. "You seem... troubled."

I leaned my head on his shoulder, buying myself time. His scent wrapped around me—cedar and mint and home. Three months without this. Could I really do it?

"Long day," I murmured. "I'll tell you about it at home."

He didn't push, just held my hand and let me rest against him. But I could feel his worry, his questions held back out of respect for my space.

The carriage ride passed too quickly and too slowly at once. When we finally stopped in front of our house, Regis helped me down with careful hands.

"Go rest on the couch," he said gently. "I'll make dinner. You can tell me everything when you're ready."

I nodded, grateful for the reprieve even as guilt gnawed at me. I couldn't seem to form the words.

Inside, I curled on the couch, watching him move around the kitchen with practiced ease. He'd rolled up his sleeves, and there was something achingly domestic about the scene.

*Tell him. Just tell him.*

But each time I opened my mouth, the words stuck. My hand found my stomach again, that constant anchor.

"Almost ready," Regis called, not turning around. Giving me space even as he checked on me.

I watched him work, this man who'd chosen me against all logic, who'd fought for me, who wore my scent proudly despite the whispers. He'd given me everything. And now I was about to ask for three months apart.

Through the bond, his concern deepened. A moment later, he set down the spoon and came to sit beside me.

"Eileen." His hand cupped my face gently. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I said, then corrected myself. "Something happened today. Something good, and also bad. I don't know how you'll—"

"Tell me," he said simply.

I took a deep breath, his cedar scent steadying me.

"Professor Ward offered me an apprenticeship. At the Eastern Border Treatment Center, with Dr. Hawthorne." The words came out in a rush now. "Three months. If I pass the evaluation, I can graduate early. It's an incredible opportunity, Regis. The kind of position students wait years for."

He went very still. Through the bond, I felt a complicated tangle of emotions—pride, concern, something that might have been fear.

"The border," he said quietly.

"Yes. I know it's dangerous, and I'm pregnant, and it's three months, and—" My voice cracked. "If you don't want me to go, I'll understand. I'll turn it down. But I need you to know that this matters to me. That I want this."

His thumb brushed across my cheek, catching a tear I hadn't realized had fallen.

"When did Ward approach you?" he asked, his voice oddly gentle.

"This afternoon. Why?"

A small smile touched his mouth. "She works fast. I only spoke with Aldric Thorne this morning."

My brain stuttered to a halt. "What?"

"The Healing Department chair. He's an old friend of my father's." Regis shifted, taking both my hands in his. "I told him about you—about how you saved me that night in the forest, about the parasite research, about Marcus and the other soldiers. He was impressed. Said it was a shame you were buried in the academy when you had such talent."

"You..." I couldn't form words. "You arranged this?"

"I suggested you deserved better opportunities," he corrected. "Thorne contacted Ward, who contacted Hawthorne. The rest was you, Eileen. Your work, your research, your results."

I pulled my hands free, needing space to process. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wanted you to hear it from Ward. To know it came from your own merit, not because of me." His expression was carefully neutral, but through the bond I felt his uncertainty. "If you'd known I was involved, you would have doubted yourself."

He was right. I would have. But still—

"I know you meant well." My throat tightened. "But when people find out you helped me get this opportunity, they'll say I only have it because I'm your mate."

"Then they'd be wrong." His certainty anchored me. "I opened a door, Eileen. Whether you walked through it was always your choice. And what you accomplished after—your research, your results—that silenced every doubt."

The words should have reassured me, but they didn't. Not entirely. My hands found my stomach, that constant nervous gesture.

"I thought..." I hesitated, then forced myself to continue. "I thought you'd be worried about me going to the border. Especially now, when I'm carrying our pup."

"No, Eileen. Hawthorne runs the best facility we have. If you're going to learn advanced treatment, he's who should teach you." He reached for me again, hesitant now. "But I won't lie. The thought of you at the border, dealing with combat injuries while you're pregnant..." His jaw tightened. "Every instinct I have wants to keep you here. Safe."

"But?"

"But I won't be the reason you give up your calling." His forehead touched mine. "You're meant to be a healer. I saw it that first night, when you didn't hesitate to help a dying wolf even though you were terrified. I see it every time you talk about your work." He pulled back to meet my eyes. "I won't take that away from you. Not even to keep you safe."

The tears came then, hot and fast. "I thought you'd tell me not to go."

"Would you have listened?"

The gentle question startled a wet laugh out of me. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Then I'm glad I don't have to find out." He kissed my forehead. "Though I did take precautions. I spoke with Hawthorne—his facility has excellent security. I contacted the border commander about additional patrols. And..." He hesitated. "I may have requested my own assignment nearby."

I went still. "What?"

"The combat department approved my request to bring third-year students to the Eastern Border for field training." His mouth quirked. "The training grounds happen to be near Hawthorne's center."

"You're coming?" The words came out as barely more than a whisper.

"I'll be nearby. And..." His thumb traced my jaw. "we could still live together."

I threw my arms around his neck, probably too hard given my condition, but I couldn't help it. He caught me easily, one hand cradling my head.

"You planned all of this," I said into his shoulder. "The apprenticeship, your assignment—"

"I told you I'd never stop you from being who you're meant to be." His voice was soft against my hair. "I just found a way to keep you safe while you do it."

Through the bond, I felt his relief that I wasn't angry, his lingering worry about the risks, and underneath it all, fierce pride.

"We won't have to be separated," I whispered. "No matter where I need to go."

"Yes."

"Then I need to learn," I said, resolve settling over me. "About werewolf births, what to do if labor starts when you're on patrol. I won't be helpless—not when it comes to our baby."

"Hawthorne's mate is an experienced midwife. She's delivered dozens of complicated births." Relief flickered through the bond. "She'll teach you. Everything you need to know."

I believed him. Not because of his strength or resources, but because I knew he would tear through any obstacle to keep me and our child safe.

"Thank you," I said softly. "For believing in me."

"You made this possible, Eileen. All I did was make sure the right people noticed." He cupped my face in both hands. "The rest—the research, the reputation, the offer—that's all you."

I was falling deeper into this. Into him. Into the life we were building together.

And I didn't want to stop.

We stayed like that for a long moment, foreheads touching, while the forgotten dinner cooled on the stove. Through the bond, I felt his emotions settle into something calmer. Pride. Love. Determination.

He'd planned all of this—the apprenticeship, his assignment, our future. He'd given me everything I needed while asking nothing in return.

Maybe I could also do something for us, to create more special memories together.

Heat bloomed in my chest, spreading lower. Tonight, after dinner, I would be the one to show him pleasures I'd been too shy to initiate before.

My cheeks warmed at the thought, and through the bond, I felt his awareness sharpen.

"Come on," I said softly, tugging his hand toward the kitchen. "Dinner first."

His eyes had darkened, that familiar hunger flickering beneath his control. He'd sensed something in me—the shift, the intent.

Good. Let him wonder what I had planned.