Page 48 of Fated Alpha Protector

Bemused by my frown, Cyrus flips his hand through the air dismissively. “She didn't come back.”

Raising one suspicious brow, I say, “I don't believe you.”

He shrugs diffidently. “Believe what you want, Theo. Now, if you'll excuse me…” He rises from his chair and proceeds to walk to the office door. He pulls it open, and stands aside as if waiting for me to pass.

Huffing a breath of discontempt, I get up and walk to the door. I'm just about to pass him, when something catches my eye just behind him.

A flicker on a screen that I hadn't noticed before. My instincts seem to kick in, yelling at me to check the screen.

I pause, peering over his shoulder when I realize that it's a surveillance monitor. With eight blocks representing a different camera angle all around the vicinity of their pack territory.

But it's one particular block that captures my attention. The one in the far right corner, watching over a prison cell with a familiar figure curled on the floor.

“Mia…” I breathe with disbelief as I shove past Cyrus toward the screen.

He grabs my shoulder to stop me, but I shrug from his vile touch. “Where is she?!” I demand, throwing daggers at him with a tenacious glare.

“There's nothing you can do to save her,” he warns threateningly.

A flurry of footsteps sound on the wooden floors of the cabin. I grab the sides of the screen, trying to make sense of Mia's whereabouts.

But when I look back up, Cyrus is gone.

Muttering a string of curses under my breath, I rush out of the office.

Only to be met with an army of Blackclaw wolves.

Chapter 17

MIA

~ Flashback ~

“Mama! Mama!” The little girl clings to the hem of her mother's summer dress.

Flowing from her waist, the skirt reminds the little girl of the garden outside.

The garden she wishes to play in right now.

“Mi hija…” her mother sighs, though her voice remains a song only a mother can sing as she reaches for her and lifts her up. Propping the little girl on her hip, the mother continues to stir the porridge on the stove.

The heavenly aroma of honey and cinnamon drifts into the child's airways. But it's not enough to grab her attention.

“Mama! I play outside!” the little girl squeals as she winds tiny arms around her mother's neck.

Mama giggles as she places the spoon on the side and gives her daughter her undivided attention. Flicking a gentle finger over her nose, she's able to get the little girl to laugh.

“My dearest Mia…” Mama prattles as she swoops Mia out of the kitchen and onto a dining chair. She leans over and plants a kiss on her forehead, attempting to go back to the kitchen. But Mia stops her with a tiny fist curled around her sleeve.

“I play outside,” Mia huffs, her little heart shaped lips forming a firm pout.

Her mother can't help but giggle at her daughter's antics. If Mia could help it, she would live outside.

To her relief, a pair of familiar footsteps descend the wooden staircase.

“Good morning, mi amor,” a male voice rings out, drawing the attention of both mother and daughter.

Mia instantly slides from her mother and runs to her father with outstretched arms. Chuckling, the man lifts her and spins her around in a flurry of lighthearted laughter.

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