Mated to Her Alpha Instructor (Eileen and Regis) novel Chapter 111

Eileen

I woke before dawn, my body stiff from a fitful sleep. The house was silent except for the creak of old wood settling. I lay still, listening for any sign that my

parents were awake.

Nothing.

Moving carefully, I stood and pressed my ear to the door. The furniture Mother had shoved against it–my desk chair, from the sound of it–scraped slightly when I tested the door. She’d wedged it under the handle, but not well. With some effort, I could probably force it open.

But I needed to be smart about this. Waking them would ruin everything.

Instead, I waited. Patience had always been my survival skill in this house. I used the time to splash cold water on my face from the basin in the corner, to braid my hair back with steady hands. To prepare myself for what came next.

Around six, I heard footsteps on the stairs. Mother, starting her morning routine. Soon Father would follow, and they’d be in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

That was when I’d make my move.

I waited until I heard the clatter of pots, the low murmur of their conversation. Then I carefully, slowly, pushed against my door. The chair scraped and resisted, but I angled my shoulder against the wood and shoved steadily. Inch by inch, it gave way until I could squeeze through.

The hallway was empty. Downstairs, I could hear Mother’s voice instructing Father on something. I moved silently toward their room.

The door was ajar. Inside, the morning light filtered through thin curtains, illuminating the sparse furniture. There–hanging on the back of the door–was

Mother’s apron.

My heart hammered as I crept inside and searched the pockets. The first held nothing but a crumpled tissue. The second-

My fingers closed around the familiar weight of my communicator.

I pulled it free, clutching it to my chest for just a moment. Then I tucked

“Eileen!”

Mother’s voice from downstairs. “Come set the table!”

into the inner pocket of my dress where it wouldn’t be easily spotted.

I forced myself to breathe normally. “Coming!”

I slipped back into the hallway, pulling my door mostly closed behind me so they wouldn’t immediately notice I’d moved the chair. Then I descended the stairs with what I hoped looked like appropriate meekness.

Father sat at the kitchen table, reading some local news sheet. Mother stood by the stove, her back to me as she stirred something that smelled of oats and.

bitter herbs.

“Get the bowls,” she said without looking.

I did as told, moving quietly to the cabinet. But inside, my mind raced. I had my communicator back. As soon as I had a moment alone, I could message

11:51 am

Chapter 111

M

Regis. Tell him everything.

‘Sit down.”

Father’s voice cut through my thoughts. I turned to find both of them looking at me with identical expressions of cold calculation.

Mother crossed her arms. “We need to talk about this mark of yours.”

They made me sit across from them at the table, positioning me like a defendant facing judges. Father’s expression was stern, carved from disapproval. Mother’s was sharper–eager to dissect my shame and parade it before me.

“Your mother told me everything,” Father began, his voice carrying the weight of patriarchal authority he’d always used to make me small. “You let some wolf mark you. Some nobody who couldn’t even leave a proper scent claim.”

‘He’s not- I started, but Mother cut me off.

“Don’t bother lying. We can smell the suppression salve. You’ve been hiding it.” She leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Tell us his name. Which family? Or is he such a disgrace you’re ashamed to say?”

Every fiber of my being wanted to defend Regis. To throw his name in their faces and watch them scramble to recalibrate their judgments. Regis Vane. Alpha heir. Future head of one of the oldest bloodlines. The man your daughter chose, and who chose her back.

But I knew them too well. If they learned who Regis really was, they’d see opportunity. Mother would show up at the academy, playing the concerned parent. Father would demand meetings, try to negotiate some benefit from the connection. They’d attach themselves to him like leeches, and I would become not his bonded mate but a pawn in whatever schemes they concocted.

I wouldn’t let them corrupt what Regis and I had built.

“It’s none of your business,” I said quietly.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Father’s hand came down on the table with a crack that made me flinch despite myself. “None of our business? You live under our roof-

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