Page 24 of Mating Mia
"Dad?" I call again, louder this time.
Panic rises in my throat, hot and suffocating. I dash from the room, checking the bathroom, which was empty, and then the small study across the hall, also empty. With each empty room, my movements become more frantic, my breathing more erratic.
"Dad!" I shout now, no longer caring if I wake the alphas. "Liam! Where are you?"
I burst into the living room, scanning the worn furniture as if he might be huddled in the corner of the couch. Nothing. The kitchen is next, and I practically skid across the linoleum in my haste, nearly colliding with the sturdy oak table that dominates the space.
Empty. Everything is empty.
My legs give out, and I sink onto one of the kitchen chairs, breath coming in short, painful gasps. He’s gone.Did he leave voluntarily? Was he taken? Did Orion’s pack find us?My mind spins with horrible possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
I chew on my thumbnail, a nervous habit from childhood that I thought I’d broken years ago. Through the kitchen window, I can see the edge of the forest, dark pines swaying gently in the morning breeze.
Could he be out there? Should I go look?
The thought of venturing outside alone makes my skin prickle with unease. The alphas have made it very clear that I can’t go anywhere without them, not with Orion’s pack potentially tracking us.
But this is my father. The father I never knew I had until yesterday. The father who endured twenty-two years of torture, who still managed to recognize me despite never having seen me before.
I stand up, decision made. I’ll just peek outside, just scan the immediate area. I won’t go into the woods. I’m halfway to the back door when a deep voice stops me in my tracks.
“He’s gone, Mia.”
I whirl around to find Finn leaning against the doorframe, his expression unreadable as always, though there’s a softness around his eyes that I rarely see.
“What do you mean, gone?” My voice cracks on the last word. “Where did he go?”
“He left,” Finn interrupts, pushing away from the door and approaching me slowly, as if I’m a frightened deer that might bolt. “Last night, after you fell asleep.”
I stare at him, uncomprehending. “He left? Voluntarily? But he could barely stand yesterday. He was covered in wounds and still hurt. He went looking for her, didn’t he? For my mother.”
“He said he’s been waiting years for the chance to find her. Said he could feel their bond was still intact, which means she’s alive somewhere,” says Finn, walking towards me.
“But why didn’t he wait? Why didn’t he say goodbye? I just found him, and now he’s gone again, and I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again, and—” I mutter, as hot tears rolled down my face.
A sob rises from my throat as Finn’s arms wrap around me tightly, pulling me against his chest in a rare display of tenderness. His hand cradles the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair as I cry against his shirt.
“He said he’d be back,” Finn murmurs against the top of my head. “He’ll find you again when it’s safe, and when he’s found your mother.”
“I could have gone with him,” I say, just as a twinge of pain from my heat returns to my belly and I wince.
"You’re pregnant," Finn reminds me gently. "And being hunted by a pack that would use you for their sick purposes. Your father knew that the safest place for you is with us, with your alphas who can protect you."
I pull back slightly, looking up at him through tear-blurred eyes. "Would you have done the same? If you lost me… ?”
Finn’s green eyes darken, his expression suddenly fierce. “If I lost you, little omega, I would tear apart heaven and earth to find you again. I would never stop looking, never stop hunting, until you were back in my arms where you belong.” His thumb brushes away a tear from my cheek, the gesture surprisingly gentle from a man who’s usually so contained. "I understand Liam’s choice. One hundred percent.”
The raw conviction in his voice soothes something inside me. Of course, my father had to go. Of course, he couldn’t wait. Over twenty years of separation, of torture and longing—how could I expect him to delay even one more day?
We stand like that for several minutes, my cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring under my ear. Eventually, my tears subside, leaving me feeling drained but somehow lighter.
“Your adoptive family,” Finn says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “Do you miss them at all?”
The question catches me off guard. I rarely talked about them.
"My adoptive family?" I pull back to look at him, confused by the sudden change in topic. “No. Not really.”
“Not even a little?” he presses, studying my face intently. “They raised you.”
