Alpha Mate at the Gas Station

9. Stretcher family restaurant

Dominic POV

Third day she hasn’t come home.

I leave another rose on her nightstand, but it doesn’t feel romantic anymore. It feels like I’m leaving flowers for someone who might never walk back through the door. The kind you bring to a grave instead of a woman you’re trying to ask out.

And the worst part is — I think I might have ruined everything.

The night we almost crossed that line… the night we were finally close enough to breathe each other in — that was the same night the younger women of my pack showed up. They wanted to help. They wanted to tell me what Thumper might like, what she might need, how to make her feel celebrated instead of cornered.

They talked about throwing her a party for winning her hearing. About gifts. About ways to show her she belonged.

She had no idea any of it was happening.

And now it feels like all of it scared her away.

They meant well. So did I. But intention doesn’t matter if someone already feels hunted.

I know I shouldn’t go into her room. More than one she-wolf warned me not to. That a woman who’s been hurt like Thumper needs control over her space.

But every hour she stays gone makes it harder not to check for any sign she’s okay.

I’ve asked every woman in my pack who’s ever dated anyone for advice — how to show a woman you don’t want to own her, how to tell her you want her beside you instead of under you.

How to tell her I want to take her on a date.

How to tell her I want a future with her.

But none of it matters if she isn’t here.

She’s not in the house in the mornings.

The day before yesterday she came home late.

Yesterday she didn’t come home at all.

And I keep checking my phone — every hour, sometimes every minute — like staring at it hard enough might make her name appear.

My mate is out there alone.

And every instinct in my body is screaming that something is wrong.

I finally couldn’t take it anymore.

I called her.

Each ring felt longer than the last — like something was stretching inside my chest, tight and fragile. On the fourth ring, she answered.

But it wasn’t her.

Not really.

Her voice was polite. Quick. Professional. The voice of someone serving tables, not the woman who used to curl up in my kitchen while I would read a book and a cup of tea.

“Dominic, I’m sorry I haven’t had time to tell you,” she said, already rushing. “I’m really busy with work. I’ll be home tonight — I picked up more hours at my second job, and my third job started today. Please don’t worry. I promise I’ll be back. I’ll talk to you later.”

Then the line went dead.

She didn’t even give me a chance to respond.

I lowered the phone slowly, my chest hollowing out as the silence swallowed me. I didn’t know where she was. I didn’t know how she was getting from place to place. I didn’t know if she was safe.

For three days, I hadn’t driven her anywhere.

For three days, she’d been slipping through the world on her own.

My pack had agreed not to follow her — to give her space, to respect her independence — but right now that felt like the cruelest promise I’d ever made.

My Beta lived next door. His mate. His pups. We could have helped her get around, could have made sure she wasn’t exhausted or stranded or walking miles in the dark.

Instead, she was out there alone.

Not because she wanted to be — but because she was afraid to rely on anyone.

And the thought that she was pushing herself until she broke…

hurt more than anything I’d ever lost.

I grabbed my phone and keys at the same time.

Not to chase her.

To make sure she was alive.

I linked my warriors as I headed for the door, the bond lighting up with a quiet, controlled urgency.

‘Warriors not currently stationed — find your Luna. Stay near her. Introduce yourselves as friends. Don’t frighten her. Don’t pressure her. Just tell me where she is and if she’s safe.’

I trusted her.

But trust doesn’t cancel danger.

And she was hiding too much, pushing herself too hard, walking through the world like she didn’t deserve to take up space.

I wasn’t losing her because she didn’t know how to accept help.

Outside, the night air felt too cold, too empty. I slid into my car and linked my Beta.

‘Rory. I need you.’

His response came instantly — annoyed and half-breathless.

‘Dom, you really need to warn me before you link. You just killed a very promising moment.’

Despite everything, a short laugh escaped me.

‘Finish what you were doing, then I need your mate to talk to mine tomorrow. Thumper needs a friend. A woman who won’t make her feel like she doesn’t belong here. Three days gone isn’t normal. I’m worried.’

There was a pause — then something gentler in his voice.

‘Yeah. I’ll tell her. We’ve got you.’

I cut the link as his wolf growled in protest behind the words. They’d deal with it. Right now, Thumper mattered more than anything else.

The engine turned over just as a new link brushed my mind.

‘Alpha… we found her.’

My breath caught.

‘She’s working at the local family restaurant. Busy. Exhausted. She looks like she hasn’t stopped moving all day. If she doesn’t rest soon, she’s going to collapse.’

The directions followed.

I didn’t hesitate.

As I pulled out of the driveway, I reached out to the one person I knew would care as fiercely as I did.

‘Mom…’

Because whatever Thumper was doing to survive…

she shouldn’t be doing it alone.

‘Domi, honey… what’s wrong?’

My mom’s voice came through the link, warm and worried, as I drove. The road blurred beneath my headlights, my focus locked on the directions my warrior had given me.

Dad was asleep. Thank the moon.

After losing the pack land and nearly his life to those damn vampires, he’d barely begun to recover. Every shock, every surge of stress, hit him harder now. He didn’t need to know how fragile everything still was — how fragile she was.

Mom knew I’d found my mate. She’d been thrilled. Supportive. Proud.

But if she told Dad how Thumper was slipping through my fingers… how she hadn’t been home in days… how I was afraid I was losing her…

It would break him.

‘Mom, please don’t tell Dad,’ I said quietly as I drove. ‘I know you want to be close to Thumper, and I love you for it, but if he hears how bad this is, it’ll hurt him. I can’t risk that.’

There was a pause — then the soft shuffle of movement on her end. I knew that sound. She was stepping away from Dad’s room.

‘Your secrets are safe with me,’ she said gently. ‘Your father doesn’t need more weight on his heart. Now tell me what’s going on with my future daughter-in-law.’

The restaurant came into view.

And my blood turned to ice.

An ambulance sat in front.

‘Thumper hasn’t been home for three days,’ I told Mom, my voice tight. ‘I had to send my warriors to find her. I just got to her new job and there’s an ambulance here. I don’t know what’s happened, but she was kicked out of her home, she has nowhere to go, and she’s been avoiding me since the younger she-wolves came by to try to help. I think we scared her, Mom. I think we made her feel like she didn’t belong.’

I cut the link as I pulled in.

The back doors of the restaurant swung open.

And then I saw the stretcher.

My mate lay on it.

Unmoving.

And the world stopped.