Page 8 of Mating Mia
It’s the bond sickness—the physical manifestation of being torn from my alphas. I experienced it once before when I left them, but this is worse, so much worse, because this time it isn’t my choice to go.
The cell is pitch black now, the dim hallway light extinguished for the night. I have no idea what time it is—my watch was taken along with my shoes and purse. But it feels like the deepest part of night, that hollow hour when the world is quiet and still.
I push myself into a sitting position, my back against the cold concrete wall, and try to breathe through the pain. In, out. In, out. But each breath only seems to intensify the hollow ache spreading from my chest to my limbs. My skin feels too tight, feverish, and sensitive. Every nerve ending screams for the touch of my alphas, for their scent, their presence.
“Kane,” I whisper into the darkness, hoping against hope that he’s looking for me right now.
From the next cell, I hear nothing. My supposed father must finally be sleeping, his body desperately trying to heal the damage from the whipping.
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to stem the tears that have started flowing again. Once I start crying, it’simpossible to stop. My alphas marked me, and now I’m having this extreme reaction of being apart from them for too long.
The separation from the alphas was bad enough the first time. Now, trapped in this cold cell, miles from home, with no way to reach my alphas, the pain of separation feels worse.
My stomach churns, acid rising in my throat. I scramble across the cell on hands and knees, barely reaching the bucket in the corner before my body convulses and I vomit, bringing up the remnants of my last restaurant dinner.
Just hours ago, I was sitting in a five-star restaurant with my alphas, discussing garden plans and houses. Now I’m heaving into a prison bucket, cold and alone.
When there’s nothing left in my stomach, I continue to dry heave, my body rebelling against the wrongness of my situation. Sweat breaks out across my forehead despite the chill in the air, and my limbs shake uncontrollably.Is this normal? Is the bond sickness supposed to be this severe? Or is it worse because of the pregnancy?
I crawl back to my spot against the wall, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The taste of bile is bitter on my tongue, and I’d give anything for a sip of water to rinse it away.
“It’s okay,” I murmur, one hand cradling my belly. “We’ll be okay. Daddy’s coming for us. All three of them.”
I’m staring at the shadows in the cell, daydreaming about my alphas and missing them. But suddenly the shadows seem to take shape. Broad shoulders, tall frame, the distinctive silhouette I’d know anywhere.
“Kane?” I breathe, hardly daring to hope.
He steps forward. My alpha. His dark hair falling across his forehead, his eyes glinting in the darkness, his mouth set in that determined line I know so well.
“How did you—” I start to ask, but he presses a finger to his lips, silencing me.
“Shhh, little omega,” he murmurs, moving closer. “I’m here now.”
Relief floods through me, so powerful it makes me dizzy. I reach for him, desperate to touch him, to confirm he’s real. But my hands pass through empty air, meeting no resistance. I blink, confused, and suddenly he’s gone—the space where he stood empty once more.
“No,” I whisper, panic rising within me. “Come back!”
From another corner, a different voice speaks. “We never left, Mia.”
“Finn,” I sob, scrambling toward him on hands and knees. “Please, please be real.”
But as I reach for him, he too dissolves into nothing, leaving me clutching at empty air.
“You’re not real,” I realize, the words catching on a sob. “None of you are real. I’m hallucinating.”
“Not hallucinating,” comes Jace’s voice from directly behind me. “Dreaming while awake. Feeling us through the bond.”
I turn slowly, afraid of what I’ll see—or rather, what I won’t see when I try to touch him. Sure enough, Jace stands there, his usual playful smirk in place, golden hair catching light that doesn’t exist in this dark cell.
“You’re not here,” I tell him, tears streaming down my face. “You’re not real.”
When I open my eyes again, I’m alone. The cell is empty and silent, save for the sound of my ragged breathing. The hallucinations have stopped, but the pain in my chest worsens.
I lie down on the hard concrete, curling into a tight ball and pulling my knees to my chest. Sleep. I need to sleep.
I close my eyes, focusing on my breathing, trying to will myself back into unconsciousness. It takes what feels like hours, but eventually, the cell around me begins to fade, reality blurring at the edges as dreams finally take over.
“There she is,” Kane’s voice rumbles from behind me, his hand sliding possessively over my belly. “Our little omega, finally where she belongs.”
