Page 21 of The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate

“We don’t hit people, Mia.” Jessa says it without any heat at all, which ruins the lesson entirely.

I close the last of the distance between us. Her knuckles have gone red and swollen, the skin broken across two of them, and the sight drags a low rough sound up out of my chest before I can stop it. I don’t like seeing her hurt. The wolf likes it even less.

“Come with me.”

“No, we’re leaving.” She steps back. “I’ve made enough of a scene for one—”

I take her by the wrist, careful of the ruined knuckles, and start walking her toward the building. She plants her heels and pulls against me the whole way, which does nothing at all.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Your hand needs looking at.” I don’t slow down. “I have a first-aid kit in my office.”

“It’s fine. I can manage it at home.”

“It’s split open and starting to bruise. Humor me.”

She digs in harder, furious now, twisting her wrist to get loose. “Let go of me. You can’t just drag me around like—”

“Behave, or I’ll carry you in over my shoulder.” I stop and look down at her, letting my eyes flick to the two girls trailing wide-eyed at our heels. “Is that what you want your daughter to see?”

Jessa goes rigid. Her gaze cuts to Mia, who’s watching the whole exchange with open fascination, then back to me, fury and defeat at war across her face.

Jerk, she mouths, too low for the girls to hear.

I keep the satisfaction to myself and walk her inside.

Chapter Five

Marc

The first-aid kit lives in the bottom drawer, buried under spare whistles and a deflated ball I keep meaning to toss. I dig it out and set it on the desk while Jessa stands by the window with her arms crossed, jaw set, her whole body braced for a fight she’s already decided we’re having.

She won’t give me one, not with Mia perched on the edge of the leather chair, swinging her legs, her eyes on the both of us.

“Mia.” I thumb the latch on the kit. “Tell your mom about your day.”

The girl doesn’t need asking twice. She launches into all of it at once: the classroom, Miss Harlow, a boy named Theo who eats glue, the field, the goal she nearly scored, the lunch where Bella saved her a seat. Words tumble out of her without a breath between them. I half listen and half watch her mother because her reaction is the one that matters.

Jessa’s holding her scowl together by will alone. Then Mia says she’s never had a best friend before, not a real one, and Jessa’s stiff expression falters. The fight drains out of her shoulders. When she catches me catching it, the scowl snaps back into place, sharper than before.

I keep my expression innocent, which takes a lot of effort.

“And Bella said we’re best friends now,” Mia finishes, breathless. “Forever. We pinky promised.”

“Did you?” Jessa’s voice softens before she can stop it.

“I really want to stay here, Mom.” Mia looks up at her, her lower lip wobbling. “Please.”

Jessa exhales through her nose. For a long moment, she stares at her daughter, and I watch the whole war play out behind her eyes before she loses it.

“Fine,” she breathes. “You can stay. I won’t pull you out.”

Even I didn’t expect it that fast. Mia whoops, throws her arms around her mother’s waist, then bolts for the door before anyone can take it back. “I’m gonna go find Bella!”

The door bangs shut behind her. The office goes quiet.

“Well.” I lean a hip against the desk. “I figured you’d put up more of a fight than that.”