Page 39 of The Alpha’s Unclaimed Mate

“For the road,” she stresses, already turning back toward the door.

I take a slow sip and look up at her over the rim. “You’re really not going to feed me breakfast?”

“No.”

I let my face drop. “I sat out here all night on your account. I’ve had nothing since that soup. You’d send a starving man home empty?”

“You’re not starving.”

“I’m fading fast.” I press a hand to my stomach and stare at her mournfully. “I could keel over any minute.”

Her mouth twitches. She fights it, loses ground, and drags it back down. I’ve learned to hunt for that twitch over the last week. It means she’s close to giving in.

“Fine.” She lets the word out on a pained breath. “But you’re not sitting at my table with night-old breath. You want feeding, you buy yourself a toothbrush first.”

“There’s a store two streets over.” I’ve got the door open before she finishes. “Ten minutes.”

She steps back to let me climb out, shaking her head, plainly disgusted with herself for caving. “The girls are still out. Wake them before I’ve finished my coffee and you’re uninvited.”

I jog the two streets, buy a toothbrush off a bored kid at the register, and let myself back into the building inside the ten minutes I promised.

Upstairs, the robe’s gone. Jessa’s changed into a pale blouse with slacks, her hair twisted up off her neck, a stray piece already loose at her temple. The sight of her stops me a half-beat in the doorway, and I force myself to keep moving before she notices.

A door bangs open down the hall, and the girls spill out.

“Uncle Marc!” Bella’s across the room before she’s fully awake, slamming into my legs, both arms locked around my waist. “You’re here!”

I rake a hand through her sleep-wild hair.

Mia hangs back by the doorframe, rocking heel to toe, watching Bella cling to me, the caution still in her eyes. I crouch and hold my free arm out to her.

“What, no hello for me?”

The hesitation breaks all at once. She barrels in, crashing into my side, and I scoop them both off the floor, one in each arm. They squeal, pounding at my shoulders till I groan and pretend to buckle under the weight. Mia’s laughing right against my ear, not a scrap of wariness left in her, and the wolf gives a low, pleased rumble that I have to swallow down.

Bella twists in my grip to peer up at me. “Are you taking me home now?”

“That’s up to your hostess.” I find Jessa across the room. “I was hoping we’d eat first.”

Jessa folds her arms. “You’re getting eggs and bacon. That’s the whole menu. Take it or leave it.”

“I’ll eat anything you put down in front of me.” I set the girls back on their feet. “Long as there’s no carrot in it.”

That drags a huff out of her that’s almost a laugh.

She cooks. I make myself useful, digging out the bread, the butter, and a second pan for the bacon while the girls set to dismantling the cushion fort still slumped against the couch. Bella folds a blanket with real care, smoothing the creases, stacking the cushions back where they live. I lean in close to Jessa’s shoulder at the stove and pitch my voice under the girls’ chatter.

“I’ve never once seen that child do a chore.” The bacon spits in the pan between us. “She’s the laziest creature alive at home. I have to beg her to make her own bed.”

Jessa pauses, spatula in the air. “Lazy?” She sounds personally wounded by the word. “Bella is the furthest thing from it. She had the spoons out last night before I’d finished the sentence. Getting Mia to move that fast takes me three tries.”

We look at each other over the pan, and the smile gets away from both of us before either thinks to stop it. For a moment, the kitchen feels too warm, and it has nothing to do with the stove. She catches herself first, turning back to the bacon, color rising up her throat.

The wolf preens. I tell it to behave.

Breakfast goes down loud, the girls talking over each other about the film they fell asleep to, Mia stealing bacon off Bella’s plate, Bella too smitten to object. I eat everything I’m given, carrots nowhere in sight, and catch Jessa watching me clear the plate with grudging approval.

The plates are barely cleared when Mia comes at her mother, the question ready.