One Night With My Alpha Professor by Eve Above Story

Chapter 279

Audrey

Edwin and I emerged from the small room, his hand still resting protectively on my back. The hustle and bustle of last- minute preparations immediately hit us, assistants running back and forth, models being ushered into position, and the soft hum of the audience’s chatter drifting through the walls.

“I guess no one would have noticed our little tryst anyway,” Edwin mused under his breath with a smirk.

I glanced up at him, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. But a sound caused us both to whip our heads toward the dressing

area.

“Owww! My ankle!”

Exchanging worried glances, Edwin and I rushed toward the sound. A small group had gathered in a huddle near the back of the dressing area. In the center of the commotion was a young woman, one of the models, seated on a chair with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she cried out.

I hurried over, Edwin following closely behind.

“What happened?” I asked, kneeling in front of the model. She looked up at me, her face pale, tears clinging to her lashes. “I–I twisted my ankle really bad,” she stammered, wincing as she shifted her foot slightly. “I was fine earlier, but it hurts to put any weight on it now…”

Someone behind her chimed in, “She tripped backstage. I thought she’d just shaken it off, but…”

I glanced down at her ankle, which was already beginning to swell slightly under the delicate straps of her shoe. The show was minutes from starting. Panic might have been setting in, but I couldn’t afford that luxury–not now.

I took a calming breath, tapping into that silver pool of energy inside of me. With a reassuring smile, I reached out to touch/ her ankle. “May I?” I asked.

She winced, flinching away.

“It’s alright,” I murmured. “I’ll help you.”

of hesitation, the model

touch her ankle.

of my healing power flow from my fingertips. It started off as a cool stream, like trickling water,

tension in the model’s ankle release, her muscles relaxing as

my hand back. “Try

moved her foot, flexing her ankle with a look of surprise and

smile breaking through. “Thank you, Luna. Really… thank

Now, get into place–you’re going to

limp now gone. The relief from the surrounding crew was palpable, and I looked up at Edwin, I

as

the stage manager said, clapping

58%

to play, a hush fell over the audience. I slipped into the shadows by

first model stepped into the

Edwin, in his classic Brooks Designs style: a matching trousers and blazer set with an oversized, masculine fit. The shoulders draped easily over the model’s slender form, her pointed–toe heels clicking as

the silver and gold threads that he had used to stitch everything together

by my mother in a warm gold tone. The plunging neckline accentuated the model’s bust, the strappy heels and golden arm bands making her look as if she was bound by gold threads. Her hair was long and

down the runway, each model a vision of the countless hours, the intricate stitching, the late–night sketches, and the dreams the three of us had poured into this collection. My heart swelled close to bursting as I watched our designs come to

beside me, his gaze focused on the runway but his approval humming through the bond. My mother stood on my

I couldn’t even speak. None of us could. We just watched in awe, holding each other. Piece after piece walked the runway, and the audience’s murmurs of appreciation grew louder, a

finally, it was time

this piece wasn’t too out there, too

nonsense.

melody as the final model stepped onto the runway. I held my breath

silver, with Joseph’s drawings interwoven into every inch of the design. There were the cheerful drawings he’d shown me, the flowers and birds and rays of sunlight. But there were also the darker ones, the shadows, the scars from his past. I’d incorporated all of

into the train at the back of the