My Professor Is My Alpha Mate

Lila’s POV
“Is that Professor Enzo?” Miss Grace asked in a whisper as she slowly stood to her feet.
I felt the blood rushing to my head as I stared at the portrait of Enzo.
This meant the painting I had for this class was still in my room.
How did I make such a terrible mistake like this?
“He’s so handsome,” Val breathed lovingly as we took in the picture.
I did a really good job at capturing every one of Enzo’s charming features. He had so much personality
in his dark eyes that made my stomach flip.
I had to think of something to say, and quickly.
“Yes,” I answered, turning toward the class of startled and curious eyes. “This is Alpha Enzo. He’s
incredibly inspirational. He’s the youngest Alpha and my father speaks highly of him. He has huge
ambitions. I also found out recently that he’s caring for his ill mother, on top of being an incredible
professor. I don’t know how he has time to sleep, honestly. But I find myself wanting to be like him. He
might not be my biggest inspiration, but I am inspired by him. I’m honored to have him as my
professor.”
There was a long pause of silence as everyone processed what I had said, I was hoping I was convincing
enough.
Soon, the silence ended with a round of applause; some students even stood to give me a standing
ovation.
A flood of relief washed over me, and I felt my body relax.
I smiled at the excited faces.
Even Miss Grace seemed pleased.
Her eyes lit up for a moment as she took in my portrait.
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“You are certainly correct,” she said, still eyeing the picture. “He really is an incredible man. Very nice job
capturing that, Lila.”

“Thank you, Miss Grace,” I said with a smile.
“Do you think we can speak after class?”
I frowned instantly; she was still looking at the picture, fondly, and it started to make me feel a little
uneasy. There was a part of me that wanted me to step in front of the picture and shield her eyes from
Enzo, but I didn’t.
I stood my ground and managed to give her a head nod.
“Yes, of course,” I said in return.
Without thinking, I grabbed the sheet and placed it over the painting, watching as Miss Grace blinked a
few times, breaking out of her trance.
She forced a plastered smile when she realized I was staring at her.
“You can take your seat now,” she instructed.
I nodded once and went back to my seat.
What was that? Why was she staring at my painting like that? And why did I care so much?
“Miss Grace is certainly beautiful. I wonder if Enzo notices that as well,” Val chirped in my ear.
I ignored her, not wanting to grow jealous over someone who doesn’t care for me. I shook the thought
out of my head and sat through the rest of the class.
By the end of class, everyone went straight into the halls as soon as the bell rang, leaving me alone in
the room with Miss Grace.
“You wanted to speak to me?” I asked as I went toward her desk.
She glanced up at me from her computer and gave me a sweet smile; the same smile she often gives
me if I pass her in the halls or say hi to her at lunch.
“Yes; I really wanted to emphasis how gorgeous your portrait is,” she breathed. “Though, I find it a bit
inappropriate to use your professor as your muse,” she admitted, a small frown now evident on her lips.
I frowned as well.
“I apologize. I just wanted to think outside the box. Everyone was expecting I would paint my family and
I almost did. But I really wanted to shock and wow everyone,” I lied, but it sounded convincing enough.
She thought about that for a moment before she laughed.
“You certainly accomplished that,” she said, shaking her head still laughing.
“And Enzo was okay with this?” She asked, eyeing me carefully.
“I wouldn’t have done this without his permission,” I lied again; I hated lying but she couldn’t know the
truth.
“I’ve just known him for a while and he’s never been the type to model for a painting,” she said
thoughtfully.
This made me frown even more; how well did she know him exactly?
I kind of wanted to ask, but I didn’t find that to be appropriate.
Would Enzo tell me if I asked him?
“But anyways, I wanted to nominate this painting to be chosen for the Higala art show next week,” she
said, a wide smile on her face. “I think it has a real shot at winning.”
“Seriously?” I asked, my eyes wide and alarmed.
“Yes,” she chuckled. “You don’t think Enzo would mind, do you? I could always ask him and—”
“I’ll talk to him,” I said a little too quickly. “Can I let you know tomorrow?”
She nodded, staring at me carefully.
“Yes; the sooner the better.”
I nodded my head before scurrying out of the classroom.
She wanted to nominate Enzo’s portrait, the one I painted for his mother, to the art show?
How was I going to explain this to Enzo?
…
Enzo’s POV