Page 4 of Mating Mia
I curl my toes against the cold concrete, trying to generate even the smallest bit of warmth.
The cell is small, maybe eight by ten feet. Bare concrete walls, floor, and ceiling. No bed, no toilet, just a metal bucket in the corner that makes my stomach turn. The only light comes from a dim bulb in the hallway outside my cell, casting long shadows through the bars.
I force myself to stand on shaky legs, needing to explore my surroundings, to look for any possible way out. The moment I’m upright, a wave of nausea rolls through me, reminding me of my condition.
The baby.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, as I place my hand over my belly. “We’re going to be okay.”
But even as I say it, I know it’s a lie. Nothing about this situation is okay. I’ve been kidnapped by strangers, locked in a cell, separated from my alphas. My body already aches with their absence, the bond between us stretched thin and painful.
I move to the bars, wrapping my fingers around the cold metal and peering into the dim hallway. More cells line the opposite wall.
“Hello?” I call softly, not expecting an answer but needing to break the terrible silence. “Is anyone there?”
Nothing. Not even a guard. I’m alone in this nightmare.
I rest my forehead against the bars, fighting back tears. Crying won’t help. I need to think, to plan, to figure out where I am and how to escape. Kane, Jace, and Finn will be looking for me. I know they will.
I just need to stay alive and unharmed until they find me.
A soft sound from my right catches my attention. There’s a shifting sound, a whisper of movement. Maybe I’m not alone after all.
Someone is in the cell next to mine.
“Hello?” I try again, moving to the right-hand wall of my cell, pressing my ear against the rough concrete. “Is someone there?”
A rasping breath. Then a dry voice croaks out, “Can’t be... not possible…”
The voice is male, frail with age or illness.
“Who are you?” I ask, scanning the wall between us. Near the floor, I spot a crack where the concrete has begun to crumble, creating a small gap between our cells. I drop to my knees, ignoring the pain as they hit the hard floor, and press my eye to the opening.
At first, I can’t make out anything in the darkness of the neighboring cell. Then my eyes adjust, and I have to hold back a gasp.
A man hangs suspended from the wall, heavy chains wrapped around his wrists, holding him in a half-standing position that must be agonizing. He’s emaciated, his body so thin I can count each rib beneath the tattered remains of what might once have been a shirt. His hair hangs in gray, stringy clumps around a face that’s all sharp angles and hollow cheeks. His nose, once probably strong and straight, now looks too large for his gaunt face, hooked and prominent.
But it’s his eyes that hold me frozen, pale green eyes that seem to glow with discovery. Eyes that stare at me with a mixture of disbelief and something that looks disturbingly like recognition.
“My pup,” he whispers, the words barely audible. “My little pup. You, omega.”
I jerk back from the crack, my heart hammering against my ribs.What did he just say?My pup? Is he delirious, confused? Maybe he’s been here so long he’s lost his mind.
“I think you’re mistaken,” I say, but curiosity pulls me back to the crack. “I don’t know you.”
A sound escapes him—it might be a laugh or a sob, I can’t tell.
“No,” he agrees, his voice a little stronger now. “You wouldn’t. You weren’t born yet when she ran and took you away.”
“What are you talking about?” I demand, fear making my voice sharper than I intended. “Who took me away? Who are you?”
He shifts slightly, chains clanking as he tries to move closer to the wall separating us. I can see his face more clearly now, the deep lines etched around his mouth, the scars that crisscross his neck and disappear beneath his ragged collar.
“Your mother,” he says. “She fled when she was pregnant with you.”
“My mother gave me up for adoption,” I say automatically, reciting the story I’ve been told my whole life. “She was young, couldn’t care for me.”
The man’s lips twist in what might be a smile.
