Page 2 of The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate

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.”