Page 3 of Mating Mia
The valet returns with my car, and I practically snatch the keys from his hand, tossing him a hundred-dollar bill without waiting for change. Jace slides into the passenger seat, tossing Finn’s folded clothes into the back.
“We’ll find her,” he says as I peel out of the parking lot, tires squealing against the pavement. “We’ll get her back.”
I grip the steering wheel so hard the leather creaks beneath my fingers.
“Oh, we will,” I agree, my voice a low rumble from the rage coursing through me. “And then I’ll tear apart anyone who touched her with my bare hands.”
Jace doesn’t argue. And he doesn’t try to calm me down anymore after realizing our omega is possibly kidnapped.
We catch sight of Finn a few blocks ahead, moving with supernatural speed down the sidewalk, still tracking Mia’s scent. I slow the car to match his pace, rolling down the window to hear if he makes any sounds of discovery.
“Left here,” Jace calls, watching Finn’s movements. “He’s turning onto Central Avenue.”
I make the turn sharply, earning an angry honk from another driver that I completely ignore. Nothing matters right now except following that scent trail, finding my mate, bringing her home where she belongs.
The wolf that is Finn pauses at an intersection, nose working overtime as he circles an area, trying to pick up the trail again. Then he lets out a short, sharp bark and takes off down a side street, moving faster now that he’s got a solid trail.
“They’re heading out of the city,” I realize, watching the direction we’re taking. “Toward the interstate.”
“Makes sense,” Jace says grimly. “Get her away from our territory as fast as possible.”
The thought of Mia being taken further from me, across state lines, maybe even out of the country, sends a fresh wave of panic through me. The bond between us could stretch that far, but it would weaken, making it harder to track her, harder to feel if she’s safe.
“Faster,” I tell Finn through the open window as we follow him through residential streets that gradually give way to more industrial areas. “We can’t let them reach the highway.”
The black wolf responds by lengthening his stride, eating up the pavement with powerful bounds that no natural wolf could maintain. We follow in the car, moving as quickly as we dare through the increasingly empty streets.
“I was going to ask her to marry me,” I admit, the words barely audible. “Had the ring in my pocket tonight. Was going to do it over dessert.”
Jace’s head snaps toward me, surprise evident in his expression. “You were? I thought you said the pack bond was enough, that human ceremonies were unnecessary.”
“They are,” I agree, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “For me. But not for her. She was raised human and values human traditions. I wanted to give her that, to show her I respect her background, her beliefs.”
The ring burns a hole in my pocket now, a reminder of the future I might never get to have. I had it custom-made, a band ofwhite gold with tiny honey-colored stones surrounding a larger diamond.
“You will give it to her,” Jace says firmly, reading the direction of my thoughts. “When we find her. When we bring her home.”
I nod, unable to form words around the lump in my throat. The bond between Mia and me pulses faintly, a reminder that she’s still out there, still alive. Still mine, no matter how far they take her.
two
. . .
Mia
Iopen my eyes- my body cold and shivering.
My head throbs, a dull ache that intensifies when I finally manage to crack open my eyes. Darkness greets me, broken only by thin shafts of light filtering through what appears to be bars. My heart stutters in my chest as reality crashes over me.
I’m in a cell. A prison cell. Oh god.
The memory of being grabbed outside the bathroom, of struggling against iron-strong hands, flashes through my mind.
I push myself up slowly, wincing as my palms press against the rough concrete floor. My entire body aches, especially my temple where that bastard hit me. I touch the spot gingerly, feeling dried blood crusted in my hair.
“Kane,” I whisper. My voice sounds strange, hoarse, as if I’ve been screaming. Maybe I have. I can’t remember everything that happened after being forced into that car.
Shivering, I wrap my arms around myself, only now realizing that I’m still wearing my dinner outfit, a silky blouse and skirt that offer practically no protection against the chill. My feet are bare, my shoes lost in the struggle or removed by my captors.
