Page 2 of Alpha Wolf (Return To Fate Mountain #6)

Chapter

Two

Valeria Reynolds sat in her patrol car behind the Fate Mountain Community Center, adjusting her rearview mirror for the third time in ten minutes.

The radio crackled, and she reached over to check the volume again.

What if she missed an important call? What if dispatch tried to reach her, and she didn’t hear it?

Her uniform felt stiff against her skin, but every piece of her equipment was positioned exactly where it should be according to the manual. She’d been on the force for a year now, but she still felt like a little girl playing dress-up in her father’s clothes.

A blue sedan cruised past her position, going thirty-five in a twenty-five zone. Valeria’s heart jumped. This was it. Her chance to prove herself today.

She flipped on her lights and pulled out, following the sedan for half a block before the driver noticed and pulled over. Valeria parked behind the car and took a deep breath. Just a simple traffic stop. She could do this.

The driver rolled down his window as she approached. He was a middle-aged man wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

“Afternoon, sir. Do you know why I pulled you over?”

The man squinted up at her. “Was I speeding? I thought I was going the speed limit.”

“Thirty-five in a twenty-five zone.” Valeria pulled out her citation book, fumbling with the pages. “I’ll need to see your license and registration.”

The man handed over his documents with a sigh. “Look, officer, I’m just trying to get to the Fate Mountain Lodge. I’ve been driving for six hours.”

“I understand, sir, but safety is our top priority here in Fate Mountain.” Valeria began filling out the citation, taking her time to make sure every letter was perfectly legible. Her handwriting had to be neat. Her father always said sloppy paperwork made for sloppy police work.

The tourist tapped his fingers on his steering wheel. “How long is this going to take?”

“Just a few more minutes, sir.” Valeria double-checked the license number, then the registration.

A gust of mountain wind caught her citation book and ripped it from her hands. Papers scattered across the asphalt like oversized confetti.

“Shit.” The word slipped out before she could stop it. She scrambled to gather the forms, her face on fire with embarrassment. The tourist sat in his car, shaking his head and checking his watch.

“Are you new at this, honey?”

Valeria’s cheeks burned as she looked up to find the tourist watching her with amusement. By the time she’d collected all the papers and had written a new citation, fifteen minutes had passed. The man snatched the ticket from her hand without a word and drove off.

Valeria slumped back into her patrol car just as her radio crackled to life. “Unit 12, do you copy?”

She grabbed for the radio and fumbled with the handset. Static filled the air.

“Unit 12, do you copy?” The dispatcher’s voice carried a hint of impatience.

Valeria finally managed to key the mic. “Sorry, Dispatch, I was... dealing with traffic.”

“Ten-four, Unit 12. Return to station for end of shift.”

“Copy that.”

She set the radio down and closed her eyes. Dad makes this look easy. Gabriel never drops anything. A year on the force and she still felt like an imposter. Her bear stirred restlessly beneath her skin, agitated by her stress.

Back at the station, Valeria sat at her desk trying to look busy with paperwork while other officers moved around her with the kind of confidence she envied. She hunched over the incident report from her traffic stop, second-guessing every word she wrote.

Halfway through the form, she realized she’d forgotten to get the driver’s insurance information. Her stomach dropped. She’d have to call the tourist’s hotel to get the missing details.

The phone rang four times before someone at the Fate Mountain Lodge answered. “This is Officer Reynolds with Fate Mountain PD. I need to speak with one of your guests about completing a traffic citation.”

“Hold please.”

Valeria waited, drumming her pen against her desk and hoping no one was listening to her conversation. After what felt like forever, the tourist came on the line.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. “I already got the ticket.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I need your insurance information to complete the report.”

He rattled off the details with obvious irritation, and Valeria scribbled them down, her handwriting getting less legible with each word.

“Everything okay, Reynolds?”

Valeria looked up to find Officer Holt standing beside her desk, concern written across his face.

“Yes, sir. Just finishing up some paperwork.”

He nodded and moved on, but not before she caught his doubtful expression. She was fooling exactly no one. As the evening shift began filtering in, Valeria overheard two officers talking near the coffee machine.

“Chief Reynolds really cleaned up this town,” Officer Stone said. “Crime rate’s down thirty percent since he took over.”

“Gabriel Reynolds is the best detective we’ve got,” Officer Hoffman replied. “That guy could solve a case in his sleep.”

Valeria kept her head down, invisible in their conversation. Everyone expects me to be as good as Dad and Gabriel. What if I’m just not cut out for this? They all see ‘Chief’s daughter’ instead of ‘Officer Reynolds.’

An hour later, Valeria pulled into the driveway of her childhood home. The scent of fresh baking drifted from the kitchen windows, and she could see her mother moving around inside. Rosa had been stress-baking again.

The dining room table was set for four, and the kitchen counters were covered with fresh cookies, banana bread, and apple turnovers. Rosa appeared in the doorway, flour still dusting her apron.

“Perfect timing, mija. Dinner’s just about ready.”

Her dad, Chief Heath Reynolds, sat at the head of the table in his usual spot, still wearing his uniform shirt but with the collar unbuttoned.

Across the table, her brother Gabriel looked relaxed after what had probably been a successful day of detective work.

Valeria took her seat and dished up her meal, her stomach still knotted from the afternoon’s disasters.

“How was your shift today, sweetheart?” Heath asked, cutting his meat.

“Fine. Just routine patrol stuff.”

“Speaking of patrol. I handled a domestic this morning. The guy had three outstanding warrants,” Gabriel said.

He launched into a story of tracking down the suspect, complete with a high-speed chase through the mountain roads. Valeria half-listened, wondering how her brother made everything sound so exciting while her day had been nothing but embarrassment.

Rosa watched her carefully from across the table. “Valeria, you’ve been pushing that chicken around your plate for ten minutes. What’s wrong?”

Valeria looked up to find her mother’s knowing eyes fixed on her. Heath and Gabriel paused their conversation, both turning their attention to her. Valeria sighed and put down her fork.

“I dropped my citation book today. Papers went everywhere. The tourist asked if I was new at this.” The words came out in a rush. “I feel like everyone’s watching, waiting for me to mess up.”

Heath’s expression softened. “Takes time to find your rhythm. I made plenty of mistakes when I was a rookie.”

Rosa nodded. “Sometimes the hardest battles are the ones we fight with ourselves, but you’re stronger than you know.”

“Hey, at least you didn’t accidentally arrest the fire chief on your second day like I did,” Gabriel said.

Valeria managed a small smile, but the weight in her chest didn’t lift. Her family meant well, but they didn’t understand. Dad and Gabriel were naturals at the job. She was just trying not to embarrass the Reynolds name.

After dinner, she helped clear the table and gave her parents quick hugs before heading home. Rosa pressed a container of leftover cookies into her hands on her way to the door.

“For later,” she said. “And call me if you need to talk.”

Valeria’s apartment felt quiet after the warmth of her family’s house.

She changed into oversized sweats and curled up on her couch with a glass of water, still too full from her mom’s cooking to think about the cookies.

Family photos sat on the side table: her academy graduation, holiday dinners, summer barbecues.

The pictures showed a happy family, but they couldn’t fill the silence that settled around her each evening.

The TV played mindlessly in the background while Valeria scrolled through her phone. Social media was a mistake, as always. Academy friends posting from other cities, other jobs. Engagement announcements. Career promotions. Everyone else seemed to have figured out their lives.

My family loves me, but they don’t understand the pressure. Dad and Gabriel are heroes in this town. I’m just trying not to screw up. Everyone my age is getting married, having kids, building careers. I can’t even write a traffic ticket without embarrassing myself.

An advertisement popped up while she scrolled: “Find Your Perfect Match.” The mate.com logo featured intertwined hearts and the tagline “All species welcome. True fated mates guaranteed!” Happy couples filled the banner image, all of them looking so complete, so certain of their place in the world.

She’d been so busy with the academy and trying to prove herself at her job that the idea of a mate had been the last thing on her mind. Until now.

Her finger hovered over the ad. Before she could change her mind, she tapped it.

The app downloaded quickly, and Valeria found herself staring at a sign-up form.

Name, age, shifter type. She chose “grizzly bear” and selected a photo from her gallery, one that looked approachable but professional. Not too casual, not too serious.

The personality questionnaire was longer than she’d expected. Favorite color, dream vacation, how she handled conflict. Then a question appeared that made her laugh despite herself: “If you were a vegetable, what would you be?”

She thought for a moment, then typed “broccoli.” Strong, reliable, good for you even if not always appreciated. Her finger trembled as she hit submit. The screen changed, and the loading bar crept forward with agonizing slowness.

Results appeared. Low-percentage matches from other towns. Seventy-three percent from Portland. Eighty-seven percent from three states away. But no perfect match. No 100% fated mate was waiting for her.