Page 33 of Mating Mia
“They burned them,” I sob, collapsing against Jace’s chest as he pulls me into his arms. “They actually burned my adoption papers.”
Kane starts the engine but doesn’t immediately start driving. Instead, he turns in his seat to face me, his expression determined despite the gentle way he wipes a tear from my cheek.
The men are just as angry as I am.
“This isn’t over, little omega,” he says firmly. “So they burned the papers. That just means we need to find another way.”
“How?” I ask, hiccupping through my tears. “That was my only lead.”
“We’ll check every adoption agency in the state,” Kane declares with the confidence of an alpha who’s used to making the impossible happen. “We’ll go to court records, hospital archives, wherever we need to go.”
“That’s… that’s a lot, Kane. There must be dozens of agencies. It could take forever, and we might never find anything.”
“Baby,” Finn growls gently as he kisses my forehead and touches my belly. “We will do everything in our power. And your real dad is one hell of a tough warrior, considering what he’s gone through. Don’t underestimate him.”
“I thought we could help him,” I say, hiccupping as Jace passes me tissues, my face wet with tears. “I always wanted to know about my birth parents but never dared to ask.”
“Understandably,” growls Kane as he drives through the streets, clearly still bristling at our interaction with them. “Don’t worry, little omega, we’ll do everything we can to bring your family together again.”
nine
. . .
Seven Months Later
Mia
Itug on my white suit pants, struggling to get them over my thighs. My nine-month pregnant belly feels like it’s mocking me as I struggle to pull them on.
Standing half-dressed in front of the mirror, I can’t help but sigh at my reflection—swollen breasts straining against my blouse, face fuller than it’s ever been, and a stomach so round and tight it looks ready to burst.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter, trying to pull the pants up higher, but they’re stuck in the middle of my thighs, and I’m getting tired.
The last seven months have been a blur of adoption agencies, courthouse clerks, and dead ends. We’ve driven through five states, spent countless hours in waiting rooms with uncomfortable chairs that make my back scream, only to hear the same answer over and over: “I’m sorry, we have no record of anyone matching that description.”
Kentucky had nothing. Pennsylvania’s records were “unfortunately incomplete” from that time period. Virginia’sagencies were “happy to help,” but ultimately hadn’t. Now we’re in West Virginia for the week, staying in a rental home, and I’m starting to think this whole search is pointless.
Through the open bedroom door, I can hear my alphas downstairs. The deep rumble of Kane’s voice mixed with Finn’s quieter tones and Jace’s occasional jokes.
The smell of coffee and bacon wafts up the stairs, reminding me that it’s only eight in the morning and I could have been sleeping instead of squeezing myself into professional clothes for what will likely be another disappointment.
I give up on the pants for a moment, placing both hands on my massive belly. Almost immediately, the baby responds with a fierce kick that makes me smile despite my frustration.
“You’re an active little guy today,” I whisper, rubbing slow circles over the spot where I just felt movement. The thought of holding my son in my arms makes my heart jump with excitement.
Just a few more weeks, and I’ll feel like myself again- or some version of myself that isn’t constantly uncomfortable, peeing every twenty minutes, or struggling to see her own feet.
“Need some help with that?”
I look up to find Jace leaning against the doorframe, looking handsome in his charcoal suit. His curly hair is styled perfectly, his eyes sparkling with love as he takes in my predicament.
“Unless you can magically make me un-pregnant for five minutes so I can get dressed, I don’t think there’s much you can do,” I sigh, making another futile attempt to pull the pants higher.
He laughs, pushing off the doorframe and coming to stand behind me. Wrapping his arms around me, his hands rest on my belly as we lock eyes in the mirror.
“Why would I want that when you look so fucking delicious like this?” he murmurs against my ear, his warm breath sendingshivers down my spine. “Your thighs are all gorgeous and exposed, belly swollen with our pup, and your body ripe and full.”
Even though I was annoyed earlier, I can’t help but lean back against his chest, taking comfort in his solid warmth. In the mirror, we make an almost comical pair—me with my hair hastily pulled back, massive belly protruding between us, pants stuck at mid-thigh, and Jace looking like he just stepped out of a men’s fashion magazine.
