Mated to Her Alpha Instructor Chapter 99

Eileen

The carriage rocked gently as we made our way toward the academy, morning light filtering through the curtains in golden streaks. I sat tucked against Regis's side, his arm draped around my shoulders in a way that had become natural—comfortable in a manner I'd never imagined possible just weeks ago.

"We should leave early this afternoon," he murmured against my hair, his thumb tracing idle circles on my upper arm. "There's a merchant quarter near the eastern gate. We can find proper travel gear, warmer cloaks... anything you might need for the border."

I tilted my head to look up at him, catching the soft expression that transformed his usually stern features. "You don't have to—"

"I want to." His fingers found mine, lacing them together. "Consider it preparation. And perhaps..." A hint of a smile tugged at his mouth. "A small adventure before we leave. Just the two of us."

My heart did that now-familiar flutter, warmth blooming in my chest. "I'd like that."

Through our bond, I felt his pleasure at my agreement—a gentle pulse of satisfaction that made me duck my head to hide my smile. These moments still felt precarious, like something too good to be real. But the steady presence of him beside me, the weight of his hand in mine, the thread of gold that connected us growing stronger each day... it was becoming harder to doubt.

"Meet me at the main gate after your last class," he continued. "I'll finish my training session early."

I nodded, already anticipating the afternoon. A proper date. Shopping together like any normal couple preparing for a journey. The thought made me giddy in a way I hadn't felt since... perhaps ever.

---

Lunch with Mira was filled with her excited chatter about the upcoming journey, though I could detect the nervousness beneath her enthusiasm.

"Do you think the accommodations will be terrible?" she asked, poking at her food. "I mean, it's the border. There probably aren't proper bathing facilities. And what if the food is awful?" She paused, then grinned. "At least you'll have an 'extraordinary cook' to cook for you. The rest of us will be suffering through military rations."

"I'm sure it won't be that bad," I said, though truthfully I had no idea what to expect either.

"Easy for you to say." But her eyes sparkled with genuine excitement despite the complaints. "Three months of actually doing something important, though. Helping wounded soldiers, learning from Master Hawthorne... it's going to be incredible. Terrifying, but incredible."

"We'll face it together," I reminded her, squeezing her hand across the table.

"Thank the Moon for that." She sobered slightly. "I don't think I could do this without you, Eileen. Even with all my bravado."

"You're stronger than you think."

"Says the girl who's about to trek to a war zone while pregnant." She lowered her voice on the last word, glancing around to make sure no one overheard. "You're the strong one here."

The compliment made my chest tight. "I need to organize some things in the herb room first," I said, changing the subject before emotion could overwhelm me. "Personal supplies I want to bring. Meet you at the usual spot before class?"

She waved a hand in agreement, already eyeing the dessert table.

---

The herb storage room was blessedly quiet at midday, most students at lunch or resting between classes. I moved between the shelves methodically, selecting packets of dried moonflower and silverleaf, double-checking my mental inventory. Three months was a long time. I wanted to be prepared.

I was reaching for a jar of ground ashroot when the door clicked shut behind me.

My hand froze. The sound of the lock sliding home made my stomach drop.

"Well, well." Derek's voice dripped with false pleasantness. "Working hard as always, aren't we?"

I turned slowly, clutching the jar against my chest like a shield. He leaned against the door, arms crossed, blocking the only exit. The expression on his face made my skin crawl—something between smugness and cruelty.

"Derek." I kept my voice level, fighting to keep my hands from shaking. "I need to get back to class."

"In a minute." He pushed off the door, taking a step closer. "I think we need to talk first. About your big... secret."

The world tilted.

Secret. The word echoed in my skull, drowning out everything else. My mind went blank, then exploded into panicked fragments. *He knows. He knows about the baby, or Regis? How could he possibly—*

But no. No, that was impossible. We'd been so careful. The scent-masking salve, the scarf hiding the mark, never touching in public where anyone could see. He couldn't know. He couldn't.

Unless someone saw us. Unless he followed me home. Unless—

Calm down. I forced myself to breathe, forced my face into something neutral even as my heart tried to batter its way out of my chest. Don't give him anything. Maybe he's fishing. Maybe he suspects but doesn't actually know.

"I don't know what you mean." The words came out steadier than I felt, though my grip on the jar tightened until my knuckles went white.

"Don't you?" He took another step closer, and I fought the urge to back away. That would show weakness. That would confirm I had something to hide. "Come on, Eileen. We both know you've been... different lately."

Different. Vague. Non-specific. He was fishing.

"I don't have time for games, Derek."

"Not a game." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Just curious about how a girl who could barely afford her own textbooks suddenly seems so... comfortable. New clothes. That pretty scarf you're always wearing now." His gaze lingered on my throat, and my hand flew up reflexively to check that the silk was still in place. "Makes a person wonder."

My pulse hammered in my ears. The scarf. He'd noticed the scarf. But everyone wore scarves—it was cold. It didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything unless he'd seen...

Unless he'd seen the mark.

"Lots of girls wear scarves," I said, hating how defensive I sounded.

"True." He was close enough now that I could smell the aggression rolling off him—acrid and sharp. "But most girls don't suddenly stop sleeping in their own dormitory. Most girls don't have mysterious evening plans that leave them looking so... satisfied."

Heat flooded my face, anger cutting through the fear. He was trying to humiliate me. To make me feel small and ashamed, like I had when was desperate for scraps of his attention.

But I wasn't that girl anymore.

"My living arrangements are none of your business," I said coldly.

"Maybe not. But I wonder..." He leaned in, and every muscle in my body screamed at me to run. "Whether you're just a desperate little no-wolf who'll do anything for someone to finally want you."

The words hit like a physical blow. My throat tightened, old wounds tearing open. But I knew what he said wasn't true.

The fear receded just enough for rage to take its place.

"You're disgusting," I said, and my voice didn't shake.

His expression darkened. "Careful."

"No." The anger was building now, drowning out caution. I was done cowering. Done letting people like him make me feel worthless. "You think everyone operates like you? Running from one girl to another, collecting admirers like trophies? You think your attention means something? It doesn't. You don't mean anything."

I watched the words land, watched his face twist into something ugly. His hand shot out, fingers closing around my wrist hard enough to bruise.

"You little—"

Instinct took over. My free hand flew to my abdomen. The movement was unconscious, automatic, and Derek's eyes flickered down to track it.

For a heartbeat, I thought he'd seen. Understood.

But then he was hauling me forward, and panic whited out everything else.