Mated to Her Alpha Instructor (Eileen and Regis) novel Chapter 22

She studied me for a moment, then sighed. "You've been working too hard again, haven't you? I swear, you're going to burn yourself out."

I didn't answer. What could I say? That I'd been avoiding thinking about our instructor by burying myself in work? That I'd been checking the mark obsessively, watching it fade day by day, and hating myself for caring?

Mira finished packing and slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, I think I'm ready. My family's carriage should be here soon." She crossed the room and pulled me into a quick hug

"I'll miss you, Eil."

'I'll miss you too," I murmured.

She pulled back, her hands still on my shoulders, and leaned in close—too close. I stiffened instinctively, but before I could step away, she paused, her nose wrinkling slightly.

'Eil... did you use a new perfume or something?"

My heart skipped. "What?"

"Your scent." She tilted her head, frowning. "It's different.

Normally you smell like chamomile and apples-really fresh, you know? But today there's something else. Something... sweeter. Like honey."

I forced myself to breathe evenly, my mind racing. "I-I don't think so. Maybe it's the honey lip balm Greta gave me? I put some on this morning."

Mira leaned in again, sniffing delicately. "Mm, maybe. But it feels like it's coming from inside you, not from something you put on." She straightened, still looking puzzled. "It's not bad or anything. Just... different."

My pulse hammered in my ears. I could feel the blood draining from my face. I dug my nails into my palm, forcing the panic down, and kept my expression carefully neutral. "Maybe I've been eating too many sweets lately. You know how the kitchen always has extra pastries."

She didn't look entirely convinced, but after a moment she shrugged. "Yeah, maybe." She picked up her bag again.

'Anyway, I really do need to go. The carriage will be here any minute."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

She gave me one last smile and squeezed my hand. "Take care of yourself, okay? And if your family gives you any trouble, you send me a message. I don't care if it's the middle of the night."

"I will," I promised.

She headed for the door, pausing only to wave before disappearing into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind her, and suddenly the room felt impossibly quiet.

I stood there for a long moment, frozen, before slowly lifting my wrist to my nose.

Chamomile. Green apples.

It's only been two weeks. Even if-even if something happened that night, it's too soon. Isn't it?

But the sweetness lingered, undeniable and terrifying.

I thought of everything I'd read in the library about incomplete

bonds. About marks that faded because the wearer couldn't

complete the mating process. About how wolfless women were considered... defective.

If I'm pregnant, it's because I'm broken, I thought, the words bitter and sharp. Because my body doesn't work the way it's supposed to. Because I can't even bond properly, let alone carry a child.

I doubled over, pressing my forehead to my knees, trying to breathe through the panic clawing at my chest.

What do I do?

I couldn't tell anyone. Not Mira. Not my parents. And certainly not him.

Not until I knew for sure.