Page 23 of Mating Mia (The Alphas’ Perfect Prey #2)

A doctor appears above me, asking questions I struggle to answer: Yes, this is my first baby. No, I didn't have prenatal complications. About nine months along, I think. No, I didn't plan to give birth in the forest.

As they wheel us deeper into the hospital, I reach out and touch my son’s tiny hand. His fingers curl around mine instinctively, holding on with surprising strength.

“I’m right here,” I whisper to him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And neither is my mother, I remind myself. She’ll be waiting when we’re ready. After twenty-plus years apart, a few more days is nothing. We have all the time in the world now.

The thought comforts me as the medical team continues their work, checking vitals and assessing our condition. I’m in a daze, floating on the edge of consciousness, but I’m not afraid.

For the first time in my life, I feel complete. The circle broken so long ago has finally been made whole.

A thin, insistent cry pulls me from the depths of my deep sleep.

For a disorienting moment, I don’t know where I am, but the sterile white ceiling and antiseptic smell suddenly jolt me into alertness.

I look around and I see Kane standing by the window, cradling our baby son against his massive chest.

Hospital. Baby. My mom.

The events of yesterday crash over me in a wave of emotion so powerful I have to close my eyes briefly to contain it.

"I think someone's hungry again," Kane says, his deep voice softened to a near-whisper as he turns toward me.

In the gray morning light filtering through the blinds, his usually fierce expression has transformed into something I've never seen before—tender, reverent, as he gazes down at the tiny bundle in his arms.

"How long was I asleep?" I ask, pushing myself up against the pillows. All my muscles still ache with the aftermath of bringing a new life into the world.

"About four hours," Kane answers, carefully crossing the room to place our son in my waiting arms. "I tried to bargain with him to let you sleep longer, but our little wolf has a mind of his own already."

The baby's face is scrunched up, pink with the effort of crying, tiny fists waving in angry protest at the world's failure to meet his needs immediately. The moment he's in my arms, his head turns instinctively toward my breast, his tiny mouth opening and closing in hungry anticipation.

"Definitely your son," I tease Kane as I adjust my hospital gown to feed the baby. "Just as demanding and impatient."

Kane's answering smile is so genuine, so unguarded, that it makes my heart squeeze in my chest. This man, who leads a pack of werewolves, who can rip throats out with his teeth when shifted, looks utterly transformed by fatherhood.

"You're going to be an amazing father," I tell him softly, reaching for his hand as our son latches on and begins to suckle.

"I hope so," he answers, unexpected vulnerability in his voice. “I’ve never had a great example.”

My gaze drifts across the room, where Jace is sprawled awkwardly across two hospital chairs pushed together, fast asleep with his mouth slightly open. His golden hair is a mess, his clothes rumpled from spending the night in the uncomfortable hospital furniture.

"They brought extra chairs," I observe, counting three in total. "That was nice of them."

Kane snorts. "They didn't have much choice. Finn told the staff that either they accommodate all three of us, or we'd be taking you home against medical advice."

The thought of my three alphas intimidating the hospital staff into submission makes me blush.

"Speaking of which, what are we going to name him?" I ask, looking down at our nursing son. "We can't keep calling him 'baby' or 'little wolf.'"

"We had a list, remember?" Kane says, perched carefully on the edge of my bed. "Top five names we all agreed on."

I nod, recalling the lengthy negotiations that went into creating that list. My three alphas rarely agree on anything without significant debate, but they'd been surprisingly united in their opinions on baby names.

"Ash," I say, testing the name on my tongue as I look down at our son's face. "Ethan. Theo. Lucas. Oliver."

The baby detaches from my breast at the sound of my voice, blinking up at me with unfocused dark blue eyes that will likely change color in the coming months. Something about his serious expression, the intensity of his gaze even as a newborn, strikes a chord within me.

"Ash," I repeat more confidently. "I think he's an Ash."

Kane studies our son thoughtfully, head tilted to one side.

"Ash," he echoes. "Strong. Simple. Can't be shortened into some ridiculous nickname."

"And it honors the alpha pack tradition of shorter names," I add, thinking of Kane, Finn, and Jace—all single syllables, all powerful in their simplicity.

"Ash it is, then," Kane agrees, his finger tracing our son’s cheek with breathtaking gentleness. "Ash."

The baby has fallen back to sleep against my breast, milk dribbling from the corner of his tiny mouth. I wipe it away with my thumb, marveling at the perfection of his miniature features.

“I feel bad leaving my mom there,” I whisper, the wonder of yesterday's events washing over me anew. "What are the odds? Of all the places in the world, I give birth right where my mother has been hiding all these years."

"Some things can't be explained," Kane says, his hand warm on my thigh through the thin hospital blanket. "Some things are just meant to be."

I nod, wanting desperately to believe him. My eyes scan the room again, noticing a conspicuous absence. "Where's Finn? Did he go to get food or something?"

Kane shrugs, but there's something in his expression that makes me suspicious. "He might have gotten distracted with something. It's been about twenty-four hours since he left."

"A day?" I sit up straighter, concern spiking through me. "That's not like Finn. He wouldn't just disappear for a full day without telling us where he was going. Especially not with the baby just born."

"Don't worry," Kane soothes, his thumb tracing circles on my thigh. "Finn can take care of himself better than any of us. Whatever he's doing, he has a good reason."

Before I can press further, the door to my hospital room swings open, and Finn himself steps through with an excited glow in his eyes.

"I have a surprise for you," he announces without preamble, holding the door open. And then my father walks in.

Liam stands in the doorway, looking so much healthier than when I last saw him.

The gaunt hollows of his cheeks have filled out; his skin now has a healthy glow instead of the sickly pallor it had before, and he stands taller and stronger, as if an enormous weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

"Dad?" I whisper, my heart lifting.

"Mia," he says, his voice breaking on my name. “I’m sorry I left.”

Tears flood my eyes instantly, spilling down my cheeks as I cradle Ash protectively against me. Liam crosses the room in three long strides, stopping at my bedside.

"Can I...?" he asks, gesturing to the empty space beside me on the bed.

I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

He sits carefully, mindful of my post-birth soreness, and then gently, so gently, wraps his arms around both me and Ash.

The hug is tentative at first, as if he's afraid I might break or push him away.

But when I lean into his embrace, he tightens his hold, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head.

"I missed you," he murmurs against my hair, his voice thick with emotion. "Every day, every hour. I thought about you constantly."

“Oh,” I say as tears roll down my face. Honestly, I thought he didn’t care as much as I did, so this was surprising. “I didn't know if you were okay, if you'd been hurt..."

He holds me for what feels like five minutes straight, neither of us speaking, just absorbing the reality of being together again. When he finally pulls back, his own eyes are red-rimmed and damp.

"So," he says, his gaze dropping to the bundle in my arms. "This is my grandson?"

I nod, shifting Ash slightly so Liam can see his face. "This is Ash. He's just a day old."

My father's breath catches audibly as he takes in the sight of his grandson.

"May I hold him?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course," I say, carefully transferring the sleeping baby to his arms.

Liam accepts the tiny bundle with practiced ease, as if he's held a hundred newborns before. He cradles Ash against his chest, one finger gently tracing the curve of the baby's cheek, his expression a mixture of wonder and heartbreak.

“I never thought I’d see this day,” he admits, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought our line would end with me. That I’d never know what it was to hold my grandchild.”

Across the room, I notice Jace has woken up, sitting silently in his makeshift bed, watching the scene unfold with unusual solemnity.

Kane stands by the window, his posture rigid, but his eyes suspiciously bright.

Even Finn, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, seems affected, a muscle in his jaw working as he tries not to cry.

"He's perfect," Liam whispers, looking up at me with pride shining through his tears. “So small, and yet so strong already.”

"Dad," I say, my heart pounding suddenly with excitement. "Guess what?"

He looks up from Ash's sleeping face, eyebrows raised in question. "What is it?"

I take a deep breath, savoring the moment that's about to unfold.

"We found her," I say simply. "We found Sarah."

For a moment, he doesn't react at all. He sits perfectly still, as if my words have turned him to stone. Then his eyes widen, his face draining of color so rapidly I'm afraid he might faint.

"What?" he whispers, the word barely audible. "What did you say?"

"We found Mom," I repeat, my smile growing wider at his stunned expression. "She's alive, Dad. She's been hiding all these years behind a waterfall just next to this hospital. The water masks her scent. She's been there the whole time."

Liam sinks back against the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He looks down at Ash, then back up at me, his eyes wild with shock.

"She's alive?" he says, the words coming out strangled. "My Sarah is alive?"

I nod, reaching for his hand. "She's beautiful, Dad. She looks just like me—or I guess I look just like her. Same eyes, same face. She said to tell you where she was. She’s been waiting for you.”

A sound escapes him then, half laugh, half sob, as he carefully passes Ash back to me with trembling hands. He presses both palms against his face, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. When he finally looks up, his expression is transformed by a joy so pure it's almost painful to witness.

"Where is she?" he demands, suddenly energized. "I need to go to her now. Right now."

"She's behind the waterfall," I explain. "That's where she's been living. She said the water masks her scent completely, keeps her hidden. She's been there for years, Dad. Waiting."

Liam stands abruptly, then just as quickly sits back down, as if his legs won't support the weight of his emotions.

"All this time," he murmurs, more to himself than to us. "All this time, she was alive. I felt it, in my bones, in the mate bond, but it was so faint I thought I was just clinging to false hope."

"The bond never broke," Kane says quietly from his position by the window. "That's how you knew."

Liam nods, his eyes distant with memory. "When Ezra and Theo died, it felt like parts of my soul were ripped away. But with Sarah... there was always something there. Just a whisper, a thread. I thought it was just because we never found her body, because I couldn't accept that she was gone."

"She told me to tell you she never stopped loving you," I say, remembering her urgent words by the waterfall. “Not for one day.”

A fresh wave of emotion crosses my father's face, his eyes closing briefly as he absorbs this. When he opens them again, they're shining with renewed purpose.

“I need to go to her,” he says, rising again. “I’ve waited years. I can’t wait another minute.”

But then he pauses, looking at me as if wondering if this is an inappropriate time.

“Dad, go,” I say, smiling. “I’ll understand. We’ll meet up with you and Mom in a few days. Be with her.”

“Do you ever regret it?” Jace asks my father with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Stealing Sarah from Orion?”

“Fuck no,” he says with vigor, making all three alphas chuckle. “Best thing I ever did was rescue her from that monster. She was never his to begin with—just another omega he wanted to add to his collection.”

“And now you’ve found each other again,” I say, happiness bubbling up inside me like a spring. “After all this time. It’s like a fairytale.”

"Better than a fairytale," Liam corrects me, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead, then one to Ash's tiny head.

He straightens up, looking around at my three alphas with new appreciation in his eyes.

"Thank you. For protecting my daughter. For bringing her home. For helping her find her mother."

“Don’t thank us. It’s our duty as alphas,” says Kane.

Liam studies him for a moment, then looks at Finn and Jace in turn. He nods in acceptance of respect from one alpha to another. “I couldn’t have chosen better mates for my daughter. Even if I’d had a thousand years to look.”