Page 18 of The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate

“Who?”

“Jessa Vasquez.”

Adrian blinks. “The mother who came in to yank her daughter’s scholarship this morning?”

I glare at him. “Does your sister know what confidential is?”

Adrian shrugs. “You knew what you were doing when you hired her. She’s a big gossip.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “So what’s the story with her? Why’d she want to remove her kid?”

I don’t have an answer for him.

“What do you want me to find out?” he asks.

I walk around the desk and lean a hip against the edge. “Her mother’s running from something. She says she’s married, but there’s no husband, and from the looks of her finger, there’s never been one. She even gave me a fake name when we first met.”

“Maybe she did all that because she thought you were a creep.” Adrian grins.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m serious, Adrian. Nobody has ever tried to withdraw their child from this academy. You’re talking about thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of education, not to mention the doors this academy opens for its students. Something has to be very wrong for her to want out like this.”

The humor bleeds out of Adrian by degrees. “That’s a lot of reasoning for a stranger’s mess. It’s her child, Marc. She doesn’t want the girl here. It’s not your business.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. The trouble is the wolf has dug its claws into the matter and won’t be talked off. For the first time in a decade, I’m tempted to let it have its way.

“Just look. If it turns up nothing, I’ll back off.”

Adrian sighs through his nose and pushes up out of the chair. “You won’t, but fine.” He taps the folder twice. “Sign that. I’ll make some calls.”

He’s gone before I can thank him, which is its own small mercy.

The junior squad is mine after lunch. Every Monday, I coach the junior classes.

Daniel and I learned the game on a mud strip behind the pack house, and I went pro on the back of it long before Bella was ever born. But a touring schedule and a grieving toddler share no calendar, so I hung up my uniform to pour what was left of me into a school that finds the kids nobody else bothered to scout. Every child on this pitch got here on a scout’s word, spotted at some school match by people I trust, handed a full ride that donors fund for the pleasure of their names on a stand.

She’s not in uniform today. A couple of the boys notice, nudging each other over the green jeans and the borrowed cleats two sizes too big, and I shut that down with a look.

Then I blow the whistle, and inside four minutes, she makes me forget I’m supposed to be impartial.

Mia plays on pure instinct, reading the pitch three passes ahead of every other kid out there. Everything comes off her left foot, quick and hard, and twice she slides a ball through a seam I don’t catch until it’s already done. Bella shrieks encouragement from the wing, useless and adoring.

Every time the girl jogs past my touchline, the wolf surges up, bright and glad, that protective heat it keeps for Bella running loud within me. It wants to nose through her hair, check her over for hurts, herd her somewhere safe and pen her there. I blow the whistle harder than the foul calls for and order myself to quit it.

She’s not mine.

This is a student, a child I met only yesterday. My animal has no business adopting her on sight, and I have no business letting it. The wolf pays no attention. It hasn’t heeded a sensible word since Jessa Hale/Vasquez screamed at me through the rain.

When I call time, the kids stagger to the benches, red-faced, gulping water. Mia plants herself in front of me before I’ve got the whistle back in my pocket, chin up, fists on her hips, dark hair stuck to her forehead with sweat.

“How’d I do?” She doesn’t bother with hello, just stands there waiting on the verdict she figures she’s owed.

“You were very good.” I crouch to her level. “One of the best out there today. You read the whole pitch. Most kids your age only see the ball in front of their nose.”

She fights a smile and loses. “My old coach said I was a ball hog.”

“Then he wasn’t watching the right things.”

That earns me a full grin, quick and fierce, and the wolf about turns itself inside out with a pride it has no claim to.