Page 3 of The Alpha's Second Chance Mate

I hadn’t been back to Harbor Mills in over fifteen years. A company I had fleeting contact with over the years took care ofthe maintenance of the house. Yet, even after so long, I began to recognize things. An old, run-down farm that sat at one side of the highway was still there, though the ancient farmhouse was now nothing but a pile of rotting lumber, having finally collapsed under its weight. A new Dollar General store had been built at the entrance to Harbor Mills. But other than that, everything looked like it had been stuck in some sort of stasis. A time capsule of my youth.

“Are there other shifters here?” Ashton asked.

The question caught me so off-guard that I nearly swerved the car into the oncoming lane. That wasn’t the real question he’d been wanting to ask, was it? We’d never talked about his real father, but he’d probably always wondered about him. My boy had been born an alpha, and I’d made sure he understood from a young age what that meant. Yet, as a human, I could nevertrulyhelp him through the change that was beginning to take place in his body.

He’d begun puberty only a few months ago, but it had somehow started sooner than I thought. Was he now further along? I didn’t think so. Otherwise, Ashton would have broken Perry’s jaw and not just his nose when he punched him the other day.

“There are,” I said. “Harbor Mills has a small pack. Um, your father’s family is in charge of it. Your grandfather is the alpha. It was around two hundred members the last time I was here. It may still be the same size.”

Ashton nodded, like he’d already known the answer before I spoke. Then, in a tone that tried its best to be conversational and nonchalant, he said, “Does my dad still live here?”

Bingo. There it was. Thebigquestion. Maybe that was the reason he hadn’t fought me on the move. Leaving his friends behind was awful, but the chance to finally meet his real father must have been too tempting to miss out on.

My first and greatest love. Cole Garrett. Six-foot-four inches of walking, talking alpha wolf. He’d swept me off my feet, and I’d fallen head over heels for the guy. Then, after some big issue with his family, he’d left me. I hadn’t known I was pregnant when he broke my heart and vanished.

“No, sweetie,” I said in a soft voice. “He doesn’t live here anymore.”

Ashton didn’t answer, just continued to stare out the window as we turned into the old neighborhood where my grandmother had lived. What I didn’t tell Ashton—and I would soon—was that his grandfather did still live here. One of the reasons I’d so willingly accepted Stormy’s solution was because I hoped the old man might finally acknowledge his grandson. Might, in fact, help him through puberty and the upcoming first shift Ashton would have to deal with. Things had not ended well between Cole’s family and me, and it was most likely a long shot, but worth a chance. I’d do anything for my boy.

My grandmother’s house looked the same, although the grass needed to be cut. Other than that, the maintenance company had kept it in good shape all the years since her death. Since I didn’t have the remote, I had to park in the driveway and manually punch in the garage code on the keypad.

After I’d pulled the car in, Ashton got out and looked around. “Kinda small, don’t you think? There isn’t even a bathroom.”

“It’s the garage, smartass.”

“Oh,” he said with exaggerated understanding. “Got it.”

“Come on. We can unpack once we get settled in.”

“Great. I gotta pee.”

The house had that musty scent of disuse. It was still decorated the same way my grandmother had done it, and as I stepped in after all these years, I was hit with a sense of deep nostalgia.

“Your room will be down there. You have your own bathroom,” I said, pointing down the hall.

“Sweet. I’ll be right back,” he said, hurrying to inspect his new living arrangements—and empty his bladder.

The house was smaller than what we were used to, but more than big enough for the two of us. I walked around, flipping on a few of the lights, and chuckled when I saw the ancient tube-style TV sitting on the cabinet in front of the couch. Grandma had never been one to invest in new technology. At least the house had central heating and air.

“Hey, Mom?” Ashton called as he came down the hall. “The toilet won’t flush.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, it flushed, but it won’t fill back up.”

Frowning, I walked over to the kitchen sink and turned on the tap. Nothing. Only a faintclankin the pipes.

“Shit,” I muttered.

The trip to Harbor Mills had taken us two days, and I’d called the morning of our departure to confirm with the local utilitiescompany that everything was turned back on. The electricity was working, but they’d obviously neglected to get the water back on.

“No water?” Ashton said with wide eyes. “We really are in the boonies. Do we have to hunt and forage for food?”

“Very funny. Hang on, let me phone them.”

I dialed the local water company to find out what the hell was going on. Apparently, we were “on the list” and someone was assigned to come out that very day to turn it on. I told her I expected them soon, and she promised us they’d make sure we were the next stop.

When I ended the call, a small flame of irritation roiled in my chest. Things weren’t going as smoothly as I’d have liked for the first fifteen minutes back in Harbor Mills.

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