Page 3 of Mating Mia (The Alphas’ Perfect Prey #2)

One of the men with her—a guard, I assume, based on his uniform and the weapons strapped to his belt—unlocks my cell door with a heavy key. I tense, ready to fight or run, but the omega makes a dismissive gesture.

“Oh, relax. If we wanted to hurt you, you’d already be bleeding.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “We’re just paying a visit to your dear old dad. Thought you might like to watch the family reunion.”

She turns abruptly and moves to the next cell—to Liam’s cell. The guard unlocks that door as well, and they all step inside, leaving my door open but blocked by the second guard who watches me with cold, empty eyes.

Through the bars, I can see into Liam’s cell now. The omega approaches him, close enough to touch but maintaining a careful distance as if he’s something distasteful.

“Liam,” she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I’ve brought you a little surprise. Though perhaps it’s not a surprise at all, since you’ve apparently already been chatting with our newest guest.”

Liam’s face remains impassive, but I see the way his muscles tense, the way his eyes flick briefly to me before returning to the omega.

“Nothing to say?” she taunts. “Not even a ‘thank you’ for reuniting you with your long-lost daughter? How rude.” She paces in front of him, each step deliberate and measured. “For years, we’ve been looking for her. And now here she is, delivered right to our doorstep.”

She stops directly in front of him, her back to me, blocking my view of his face. “And pregnant, too. How convenient. The next generation of your bloodline, already criminals behind bars.”

“Leave her out of this,” Liam says, his voice stronger than I expected, a low growl that carries across the small space.

“But we still haven’t located your omega. Sarah has proven quite... elusive.” She examines her manicured nails. “Perhaps you’d like to help us find her? Save us all a lot of time and trouble.”

My mother. They’re looking for my mother.

The realization sends a chill down my spine. If Liam’s story is true, if my mother really did flee with me to protect me from these people, then she’s been in hiding for years. Successfully hiding from people who tortured her mate and would probably do the same to her if they found her.

“I don’t know where she is,” Liam says, each word measured and deliberate. “I haven’t seen her since the night your great leader raided my home. Orion knows this.”

“Orion wants his omega back,” says the omega in disgust. “Once he sees how ugly and frail she is, then he’ll choose me even though I’m infertile. Your grandbaby will be mine. Tell me where Sarah is. Now!”

“You give me too much credit,” Liam replies, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. “If I’d planned her escape, do you really think I would have let myself get caught?”

The omega’s hand lashes out, faster than I can track, and cracks across Liam’s face. The sound makes me flinch. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t make a sound, just stares back at her with those eyes that seem to glow with inner fire.

“Two decades,” she hisses, her composure cracking for the first time. “Years of your stubborn silence. And now we have your daughter. Your grandchild. Do you want them to suffer the same fate as you?”

Liam’s gaze shifts to me, just for a moment, and I see something flicker in his eyes—regret, maybe, or sorrow. Then his face hardens again as he looks back at the omega.

“I told you,” he says slowly, as if explaining something to a child. “I don’t know where Sarah is. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

The omega stares at him for a long moment, her body vibrating with barely contained rage. Then, abruptly, she steps back and turns to the guard.

“Make him talk,” she orders, her voice cold and flat. “Perhaps pain will refresh his memory.”

The guard nods once and steps forward, uncoiling something from his belt. It takes me a moment to realize what it is—a whip, but not like any I’ve seen before. This one is braided with what appears to be metal wire, the end weighted with small barbs that catch the dim light.

“No!” I cry out before I can stop myself, lurching forward only to be blocked by the second guard. “You can’t do this!”

The omega turns to me, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Oh, but we can. And we will. Unless, of course, you know where your mother is?”

I shake my head helplessly. “I don’t. I didn’t even know my father was alive until today. I was adopted, raised by humans. I don’t know anything about any of this.”

She studies me for a moment, as if trying to determine if I’m lying.

“Pity,” she finally says. “Then I suppose we’ll have to continue with the traditional methods.” She gestures to the guard with the whip. “Proceed. And make sure our guest has a good view.”

The guard positions himself behind Liam, who remains stoically silent, his face turned slightly toward me. Liam’s eyes meet mine, and I see the message in them as clearly as if he’d spoken aloud: Don’t watch. Look away.

My body refuses to obey, frozen in horror as the guard draws back his arm and brings the whip down with terrible force across Liam’s already scarred back.

The sound it makes—a wet thwack that turns my stomach—breaks my paralysis.

I spin away, pressing my face against the cold concrete wall, hands clapped over my ears.

But I can still hear it. Every crack of the whip, every grunt of pain that Liam can’t quite suppress, every taunting question from the omega about Sarah’s whereabouts.

Tears stream down my face as I slide to the floor, knees drawn up to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible.

I don’t know how long it goes on. Time loses meaning in the rhythm of the whip, the questions, the silence that answers them.

At some point, I become aware that the sounds have stopped. I risk a glance over my shoulder to see the omega watching me, a satisfied smile playing around her red lips.

“Perhaps next time he’ll be more cooperative,” she says, her voice carrying easily across the space between us. “Or perhaps you’ll remember something useful about your mother. Think about it, Mia. Your cooperation could spare him a lot of pain.”

She turns to leave, the guards following her. The one who wielded the whip is cleaning the blood—my father’s blood—from his weapon with a cloth, his expression as casual as if he’d just finished polishing his shoes.

The cell doors clang shut behind them, the locks engaging with heavy finality. Their footsteps recede down the corridor, and then there’s silence, broken only by the ragged sound of Liam’s breathing.

I wipe my face with the back of my hand, gathering the courage to look at him through the crack in the wall. What I see makes bile rise in my throat. His back is a mess of fresh cuts layered over old scars, blood running in rivulets down his skin to pool on the floor beneath him.

“Oh god,” I choke out, quickly looking away again. “That looks... You need a doctor.”

“I’ll heal,” he says, and there’s a clanking sound as he shifts position, chains rattling. “One of the few benefits of being what we are—accelerated healing. By tomorrow, these will just be new scars to add to the collection.”

The matter-of-fact way he says it breaks my heart. As if torture is just another part of his daily routine, like brushing teeth or eating breakfast.

“I wish I could help you,” I say, feeling utterly useless. “Clean the wounds, at least. Or... I don’t know. Something.”

“The best thing you can do for me,” Liam says, his voice dropping to a whisper, “is to stay quiet. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Don’t give them any reason to focus on you.”

“They’re already focused on me,” I point out. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? They were looking for me.”

“Yes, but right now, you’re mainly a tool to use against me,” he explains, each word careful and measured. “They think I know where Sarah is, that I’ve been in contact with her all these years. They think hurting you will make me talk.”

I swallow hard, understanding dawning. “So they’re using me to torture you.”

“Yes,” he confirms simply. “And if they realize that isn’t working, they’ll start focusing on what you might know. That’s when things will get much worse for you.”

The clinical way he describes potential torture makes my skin crawl. But I understand why he’s being so direct. He’s trying to prepare me to give me whatever advantage he can.

“Okay,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’ll try to stay under the radar.”

“It’s better this way. I can endure anything they do to me. But to lose you now, after finally finding you... that would destroy me more thoroughly than any whip could.”

His words hit me with unexpected force, bringing fresh tears to my eyes. I’ve just met this man, only just learned he’s my father, and yet his love for me is so palpable.

“Oh.”

“To lose a child,” he continues softly, “is to lose a piece of your soul. It’s a wound that never truly heals.”

I press my hand to my belly, thinking of my own child growing inside me, and suddenly understand exactly what he means. I would do anything, endure anything, to keep my baby safe. Just as he has for me.

“Try to rest,” Liam says, his voice growing fainter. “They won’t be back tonight. Sleep while you can.”

I nod, though he can’t see me, and curl up in the corner furthest from the door, using my arm as a pillow against the hard concrete.

Sleep seems impossible in these circumstances, with the echoes of the whip still ringing in my ears, with the knowledge that my father is bleeding just feet away from me.

But exhaustion pulls at me, the events of the day—being kidnapped, discovering my father, witnessing torture—catching up to me all at once.

As I drift toward unconsciousness, I cling to one small comfort that Kane, Finn, and Jace are looking for me.