The Professor's Mate Clause novel Chapter 136

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CHAPTER 136

FREYA’S POV

Ten years after completing our bond, I wake to Adrian watching me.

It isn’t unusual anymore. Somewhere along the years, we developed a quiet habit of existing like this, stealing the softest parts of mornings before the world demands anything from us. Before children burst through doors, before pack responsibilities settle like weight across our shoulders, before leadership turns us back into Alpha and Luna instead of just Adrian and Freya. But this morning feels different in a way I can’t immediately name. His gaze is steadier than usual, quieter, like he is remembering something instead of simply looking at me.

“What?” I murmur, my voice thick with sleep.

“Just thinking,” he replies.

“About?”

His hand finds mine beneath the covers, fingers threading through mine with the kind of familiarity that no longer needs effort. “About how different everything would be if I had never met you,” he admits softly. “If I had stayed the kind of Alpha who kept everyone at arm’s length. I wouldn’t have this life. Not any of it. Not you. Not the children. Not the pack.”

I turn slightly toward him, studying the face I’ve memorized over a decade of mornings just like this. “You would have found something else eventually,” I say gently.

“Maybe,” he concedes. “But not this. Not us. Not the bond.” His grip tightens slightly, as if the thought alone unsettles him. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not safety. Not tradition. Not the version of life they told me I was supposed to want.”

Warmth settles through me through the bond–steady, grounding, undeniable. It always feels like standing too close to fire without ever being burned.

“I wouldn’t trade it either,” I whisper. “Even knowing everything we went through… I would still choose you. Every time.”

We don’t get the chance to linger in the silence that follows.

The door bursts open a second later.

“Mama! Daddy- Kai took my-” Aurora stops mid–rant when she sees us, already dressed in the awareness that she has interrupted something private. At ten years old, she is learning where the edges of moments like this exist. “Sorry. I’ll come back.”

“It’s fine,” Adrian says immediately, already shifting into motion. “What did Kai take?”

“My journal,” she says indignantly. “He was reading it without asking.”

That earns a tired exhale from Adrian, the kind of sigh only a father of three can produce. “Of course he was. Where is he now?”

“In his room,” she replies, still bristling.

“I’ll handle it,” he mutters, already getting up.

The moment he leaves, the room settles again, softer this time. Aurora lingers in the doorway, hesitation replacing her frustration.

“Mama?” she asks carefully.

“Come here,” I say, patting the space beside me.

She climbs onto the bed and curls against my side like she used to when she was much smaller, before she grew into questions that carried weight she wasn’t supposed to feel yet.

“Do you ever regret it?” she asks quietly. “Marking Daddy. Becoming Alpha. All of it?”

The question lands heavier than I expect, not because I haven’t heard versions of it before, but because it comes from her now. From the next generation looking back at choices that shaped their entire world.

“Never,” I answer honestly. “Not even on the hardest days.”

She studies my face like she’s searching for cracks in that certainty.

“Some kids at school say you shouldn’t be Alpha,” she admits. “They say tradition exists for a reason. That maybe things were better before.”

A slow breath leaves me as I choose my words carefully. “Tradition is just the shape something used to take,” I tell her. “It doesn’t decide what is right forever. Your father and I didn’t choose an easy path. We lost things. We fought things. But we also built something better. Something that didn’t exist before us.”

“Even if it made people angry?” she asks.

“Especially then,” I say softly. “Because change always makes people uncomfortable. But comfort isn’t the same as truth.”

She nods slowly, absorbing it in the quiet way she always does when something finally makes sense inside her.

“Okay,” she whispers. “I just wanted to know if you were happy.”

A small smile forms before I can stop it. “I am,” I tell her. “More than I ever thought I could be.”

And somehow, that seems to be enough for her.

The day unfolds in its usual rhythm, chaotic, loud, full of movement and responsibility. Breakfast becomes a negotiation between three different personalities. Pack messages arrive before the food is even cleared. Meetings begin before the house has fully settled into morning. Yet underneath all of it, there is something steady now. A life that no longer feels like survival, but continuation.

It is later that Clara arrives, carrying news that shifts the tone of everything.

“You’re going to want to see this,” she says, handing me her tablet.

On the screen is an official declaration from the Northern Traditionalist Pack. My eyes scan the words once, then again, slower this time as disbelief settles in.

“They’ve elected a female Alpha,” Clara says, unable to hide her excitement. “And her mate is a hybrid. They publicly credited your reforms as inspiration.”

For a moment, I just stare at it.

The same pack that once called our bond an abomination has rewritten itself entirely.

“It’s happening,” I murmur quietly. “Slowly… but it’s happening.”

Clara squeezes my shoulder. “It’s happening because you didn’t stop.”

SHAFTER S

+15 Banus

1

After she leaves, I find Adrian in his office, already surrounded by reports and territorial maps.

He looks up as I enter. “Clara told you?”

I nod, stepping closer. “It doesn’t feel real sometimes.”

He leans back slightly, exhaling. “Ten years ago they would’ve burned us for even suggesting this,” he says. “Now they’re copying it.”

“Do you think it’s enough?” I ask quietly. “Everything we’ve done?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. When he does, his voice is honest rather than certain.

“It’s enough for now,” he says. “But change doesn’t end. There will always be more to fix. More systems to rebuild. More wolves still trapped in old ways.”

A faint smile tugs at my mouth. “So we keep going.”

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