Page 54 of The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate

“Why do you care this much about a man you’ve never met?”

“Call it curiosity.”

“He was sc—” I stop myself before I finish the sentence. “He had his chance. I already told you. I don’t know why you keep picking at my wound. And…” My eyes go to Bella, the sweet shy little girl. “He must have his own family now. His own responsibilities.”

“You don’t know that for sure. Why not reach out to him again?”

“And why would I do that?” I look at him, my eyes flashing. “Why do you care? You want me to reach out so that he can take my Mia from me? He’s never met her. He doesn’t know her. He isn’t missing anything.”

“What if he doesn’t take her?” He turns to face me. “What if all he wants is to know her? To stand somewhere in her life?”

I make myself meet his eyes. “He’s powerful, with money and connections. I’ve got none of that. He’d point and I’d jump, every single time, right in front of my kid.” My voice thins. “You know what that does to a girl, watching her mother shrink into somebody’s puppet?”

He doesn’t fire back right away. “Is he that bad, the man himself?”

The question hits too close, and for one cold second, I wonder if he knows something. Then I tell myself it’s the same paranoia I drag everywhere I go, and I push it down.

My mouth opens on the old, easy yes. Then I look past him at nothing in particular. “I used to be certain he was. Lately I’m less certain.” The words scrape on the way up. “It changes nothing about the risk. I won’t gamble her on a maybe.”

He waits me out.

“There’s no one left in my whole world but Mia.” I hold his gaze so he can’t mistake me. “I’m not handing her to anyone. Not for any price.”

“What if her father could give her a good life?”

“I give her a good life.” It comes out with an edge I can’t sand off. “I work myself raw for that girl. Every hour goes to her. You think there’s some hole in her I’m too poor to fill?”

“I think you work harder than anyone I know.” His eyes go back to the girls. “I only wonder if she misses having a father in the picture at all.”

“Does Bella miss having a mother in hers?”

I expect him to dodge. He doesn’t even blink.

“Yes.” He doesn’t soften it. “She does. You haven’t seen how she tucks herself into you the second you’re close? How Mia does the exact same to me?”

I recall the conversation I overheard in Mia’s room, and heat climbs up my neck. “They’ll adjust. Children always do.”

His jaw tightens, and for a second, he looks ready to push, then chooses not to. “What happens when he finds out on his own? You don’t think he’ll be angrier you never came to him, not even once?”

“We’ll deal with it when it comes.”

“For what it’s worth,” he offers, watching the teacups slow, “if I were him, I’d want to know. Every day of her I could get, I’d take it.”

He doesn’t look at me while he says it, and I’m grateful because I don’t trust my face to hold steady. He’s been circling this man for weeks now, my phantom ex, my untouchable powerful stranger. I keep almost asking why a school director cares so much about whose blood runs in one of his students. Every time I get close to the question, I make myself back away, because the answer I keep brushing is one I can’t afford to think all the way through.

The girls thunder back demanding food. My wallet’s barely cleared my bag before his is already open, and he buys them apples shelled in hard chocolate. Bella throws her arms around his waist in thanks before she takes hers, and he ruffles her hair without looking down, the gesture worn smooth by practice. Mia watches the whole exchange. I see the wistfulness in her eyes and lower my gaze, the guilt eating at me.

The two of them run off with their prizes at full tilt.

“Stay where I can see you,” I call after them.

“They’re fine,” he answers easily. “I can hear them from here.”

“Over all of this?” I wave at the heaving crowd.

“Easily.” He lifts his voice anyway. “Girls. Stay in sight and mind your mom.” It’s meant to reassure me. Instead it pricks at the back of my neck, the same as it did the day he stood close and told me he could hear my heart going fast.

A stall of homemade jewelry hooks me, small bright things laid out on dark cloth. One bracelet holds a pale stone set dead in the center, and I pick it up. The woman behind the table names a price that nearly drops me where I stand.