Page 38 of The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate

Heading inside, I turn on the lights and head to my room to catch a couple of hours of shuteye. But tonight sleep doesn’t come that easily. I lie in the dark for the better part of an hour, staring at the ceiling. Eventually I give up and pad down to the kitchen, where I pour myself a drink I don’t really want, then stand at the counter with it.

The house is too quiet. A few hours ago, this dimly lit room was lively with the girls chattering, Jessa making small talk and keeping them entertained. It felt like a family. I don’t remember the last time I felt that way. Bella and Mia have gotten so close so fast. My thoughts drift to the little girl who hates carrots. I catch myself smiling.

She’s brave and has strong protective instincts. I can tell she gets her fierce nature from her mother, but toward Bella she’s gentle. Bella takes after my brother, soft-natured. Mia draws her out of her shell. If the two were sisters, if Mia was mine…

I shake my head at the ridiculous thought. I haven’t considered taking a mate for years. That idea’s been wiped from my mind, but whenever I see Jessa and Mia, the thought of a family presses at me.

I tilt my head back and close my eyes.

I can’t bear this silence. There’s just me, the hum of the refrigerator, and a glass I’m not drinking from.

I last about twenty minutes of it before I set the glass down and take the car back out.

Town’s gone dark by the time I reach her street, the shops shuttered, a lone traffic light blinking amber over an empty crossing. I pull into the lot behind her building and cut the engine.

Her apartment is on the second floor, third from the left, a lamp burning low behind the curtain. I don’t get out. Hands locked on the wheel, I ask myself what a grown man thinks he’s doing parked outside a woman’s home past eleven at night because his own house got too quiet to stand.

The wolf has no such doubts. For the first time all night, it’s settled, ears pricked toward that glowing square of curtain, content just to be near her.

I came for Bella. That’s the story I told myself on the drive down, that she’s asleep in a strange bed and I wanted to be close in case she woke frightened. The trouble is, it isn’t Bella’s window I keep looking at.

A figure crosses behind the curtain.

I’d know that outline anywhere now, the loose knot of hair, her shoulders held tight even alone in her home. Jessa drifts from one end of the window to the other with a glass in her hand, as restless as I am. I watch her pass once, then again, and the tension my uncle left in me starts to ease.

My eyes go heavy. I’ll leave the minute her lamp goes out, I tell myself, once I know she’s turned in safe. That minute stretches long past its welcome. The wolf curls down warm and quiet inside me.

Sleep takes me before I know it.

A knuckle raps the glass beside my ear.

I’m awake at once, a hand half-raised before my eyes focus. Morning light floods the lot. Jessa stands at my window wrapped in a thick robe, hair loose around her face, a steaming mug cupped in both hands and a frown aimed straight through the glass at me.

I roll the window down.

“Good morning,” I offer sheepishly.

“Were you out here all night?” There’s an accusation under it.

I scrub a hand down my face. The dash clock reads past seven. “What if I was?”

“That’s either sweet or completely unhinged.” Her head tilts. “I’m leaning toward unhinged.”

“I don’t sleep well without Bella in the house.” It’s true, and saying it surprises me. “I got anxious.”

“You could’ve knocked and taken her home like a sane person.”

“I didn’t want to wreck their night.” I shrug. “It’s the first real sleepover either of them’s had.”

Her face softens for a breath before she shutters it. She studies me through the open window before she looks away and her voice drops low, words not meant for me. “I really don’t want to like you.”

The words catch me square in the chest. “What?”

She swallows and glances at the building, the cracked paint on the door, anywhere but me. “Never mind.”

Before I can press, she pushes the mug through the window into my hands. “I came down to take out the trash, and there you were, slumped in your seat looking pitiful.” She lifts a shoulder. “Spare cup was going to waste. Don’t read into it.”

I wrap both hands around the warmth of it. “You made me coffee.”