Page 1 of The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate

Chapter One

Jessa

I’ve never liked the rain.

It’s dark, dismal, and just straight-up depressing, and I try to keep my life anything but. It’s worse when I’m driving a beat-up Ford that’s on its last legs and can’t make out anything past my windshield because the stupid wiper doesn’t work.

I glance at the backseat where the groceries are piled. Moving into a new apartment and starting over is not easy, but this is for Mia. I want my daughter to have the best of the best, even if it means uprooting myself from the city I love so much and planting us in Hemlock Hollow, a small town I’d never even heard of till I got Mia’s scholarship letter.

I let out an exhale, my hands flexing around the steering wheel. It’s fine. The academy is the best of the best. They noticed her. They want her. I can live in some small hillside town for a few years.

Crestline Soccer Academy is one of the most elite private sports academies in the country. Acceptance to this academy is hard enough but a full scholarship? This is one of these institutes where admission is only through invite.

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity as Mia’s coach excitedly explained to me, barely stopping himself from shipping his star pupil off himself. I don’t want to deprive Mia of anything, so this seemed like a good idea. But I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to just move to the other side of the country within a span of weeks.

Right now, Mia is in a new apartment alone while I bring the groceries. She’s responsible enough to be left alone for half an hour, but she’s still only ten, and I’m getting anxious. I peer out the window, trying to look past the moving windshield wiper and the rain smudging my vision. I’m pretty sure this is the way to the apartment.

But—

I look around. I’m sure there were houses here and not forest on both sides of the road.

I’ve barely finished that thought when the car begins to splutter, and my heart skips a beat. “No, no, no. Don’t you dare die on me now.” But as the rain pounds on the hood of my car, it rolls to a stop. I try to start the engine, but it makes a pathetic little sound before wheezing. I twist the key again and again but nothing. Lowering my head against the steering wheel, I let out a frustrated scream.

Straightening, I push my hair out of my eyes. “Okay.” I look around at the groceries, trying to calm down and think rationally. There is meat in there, and it’s bound to go bad. “I can deal with this. I’ll call Mia and then a tow truck and then a taxi. If this place has taxis.” I mutter the last part to myself. This whole town has a population of less than two thousand people. I’m not sure they have taxis. I take out my phone to call Mia, and the screen is already blinking, trying to let me know it’s just not my night.

My mouth turns dry.

Fuck.

One percent battery.

I run my fingers through my hair, agitated. If I’m fast, I can call both Mia and the tow truck. Given my current ongoing luck, I might only be able to get one person.

I call Mia. The line rings for a few seconds, and then a little girl answers politely, “Hello. Vasquez residence.”

“Mia, baby, it’s me,” I say quickly. “Listen, my car broke down. I’ll be a little late so don’t get scared and don’t open the door for anybody.”

“Mommy!” Her voice is bright. “Did you get my cereal?”

“What?” My eyes flicker to the backseat. “Yeah. I got it.”

“Does it have a prize?”

“I don’t know, Mia. I didn’t check. Listen, I have to go now. I have to call the —”

“But you said you would get the one with the prize!”

“Mia—”

“Can you check, Mommy?”

“Mia, I have to go! Just don’t open the door for anyone okay?” I say, trying to hold on to the last bit of my sanity.

“But Mom—”

I cut the call and do a quick search for a tow truck. I’ve just dialed three numbers when my screen flickers. “No, no, no,” I moan. “Don’t die on me just yet.” But the screen fades to black, leaving me alone in this car with no way of calling anyone.

My breath fogs the windshield. Outside, the rain hammers the hood and runs in sheets down the glass, and I can’t see more than ten feet ahead. No headlights coming. No streetlamps out here. The business district is somewhere behind me, and I’m very sure I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere.