The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate (Pact Mate #1)

Chapter 1

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.

I look at the backseat. Three bags, packed tightly. The food in there is enough to last us the week because the rental has nothing. I can’t leave it. I also can’t carry three bags through a rainstorm on a road I don’t fully know yet, in a town I’ve lived in for six days, in the dark.

“Fantastic,” I mutter. “Really nailed this fresh start.”

Back home, I’d have known what to do. Flag a cab, duck into a diner, call somebody. The city always had an answer. Hemlock Hollow apparently has rain, silence, and a population that goes to bed before eight.

I grab the door handle. Fine. I’ll take the bags and walk until I find a lit porch or a gas station or anyone with a working phone. It’s a terrible plan. It’s also the only one I have.

Then headlights shine in my rearview mirror, and after a few seconds, something moves outside the window.

I go still.

A tap on the glass.

Every horror movie I’ve ever seen runs through my mind. Forest, rain, an abandoned road. Oh God, I can’t afford to die here.

I roll the window down an inch and peer out into the rain, my heart pounding. “I’ll have you know I have pepper spray, and it’s aimed at your eyes.”

I hear the throaty chuckle. “No, you don’t.”

A man stands at the driver’s side with a black umbrella in one hand and nothing in the other.

I can’t make out his face because the umbrella blocks what little light there is.

But I can see the rest of him clearly enough.

Broad shoulders filling out a gray T-shirt damp at the collar, clinging to a chest that belongs to someone who has never skipped the gym a day in his life.

I am stranded on a dark road in a town I don’t know, and my first thought is deeply unhelpful.

“Looks like you’re having a rough night.” His voice is amused. “Everything okay?”

My eye twitches. That voice. I’ve heard it before. I don’t know when or where.

“My car died,” I mutter. “And my phone with it. I can’t call a tow truck.”

“I can give you a ride home,” the stranger offers. “You new in town?”

“That obvious?”

“Little bit. Nobody takes this road after dark. It’s not exactly safe.”

“Oh.” My dread intensifies.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks again.

I don’t answer right away. Ten years in the city left me with one reliable instinct, and it’s that you don’t accept rides from strangers who appear out of the dark during a rainstorm.

That’s not paranoia. That’s just sense. But there are no other cars on this road, the groceries will go bad if I keep waiting, and Mia is home alone waiting for me. However…

“I don’t want to inconvenience you.” I try to catch a glimpse of his face. “If you could just call the tow truck for me, I’d appreciate it.”

He pulls out his phone and dials, and I listen.

“Hey, Tom, I got a lady out here who needs a tow.” A pause.

“Yeah, I know, I know. How bad is it out there on the connector?” Another pause, longer.

“All right. Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it covered.

” He hangs up and looks at me. “Truck’s out on the main road.

Some accident came in. It could be more than two hours.

” He glances at the backseat. “You’ve got groceries in there. ”

“I’ll wait,” I insist uneasily. “I’m sure someone else will pass by.”

“This isn’t the main road,” he says. “You took a right when you left the business district. Nobody comes through here. And like I said, especially not at night.”

I look down the road. Both directions. Empty black wet nothing stretching as far as I can see.

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me.” He laughs quietly, probably at my paranoid ass. “You’ll be stuck here for hours before anyone passes.”

I let out a gust of air, knowing I’m out of options. “Well. If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” He nods toward the backseat. “You want to grab the bags?”

I push the door open and step out into the rain, and he tilts his umbrella to cover both of us. When he does, our eyes meet, and my heart nearly stops in my chest.

Oh shit.

Of all the people to run into in this tiny cramped town, why does it have to be him?

Piercing gray eyes, a chiseled face, and thick, dark, curly hair that is tied in a small bun at the base of his neck, Marcus Steele has not aged in the last ten years. And as he gazes down at me, it’s obvious he hasn’t recognized me either.

His nostrils flare for a second, and he gives me a curious look. “Am I that scary?”

“Scary?” I squeak.

“You look terrified,” he points out slowly.

“Terrified,” I repeat like a parrot.

Amusement enters his eyes. “Okay, let’s get you in the car or we’ll be out here all night with you just repeating after me.” He hands me the umbrella, closing my fist around the handle carefully as if he’s worried I’ll drop it. “Go sit in the passenger seat. I’ll get your groceries.”

It’s only when he steps away from me that I let myself breathe, taking a few steps away from my car to his.

Oh God. This is the worst possible thing to happen. I have to get myself out of this situation! If he finds out about—

Umbrella shielding me from the rain, I turn around. “You know what, maybe I’ll just wait for the—”

He’s walking toward me with the grocery bags in hand, soaked to the skin, and I can only stare at those pecs. The flare of attraction is completely unwanted. I shouldn’t look at him like this. Not after what he did. I just need to—