Page 4 of Mating Mia (The Alphas’ Perfect Prey #2)

They won’t stop until they find me. I just know it. I just have to survive until they come. And somehow, find a way to bring my father with me when they do.

I wake with a pain so intense it steals my breath.

It’s like someone has reached inside my chest and is squeezing my heart in their fist, twisting and pulling as if trying to tear it from my body.

I curl into myself, pressing my palm against my sternum as if I could somehow push the agony back inside.

“No,” I whimper, recognizing this feeling all too well. “Not again.”

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’s impossible 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.”

I turn in his arms to find him watching me with those intense, dark eyes, his face so close I can feel his breath on my lips. “I was lost,” I tell him, pressing closer. “I couldn’t find my way back to you.”

“We found you,” he assures me, his lips brushing mine in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly turns hungry. “We’ll always find you.”

His hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with familiar dominance. I melt against him, the bond between us humming with recognition and need.

The bed dips as someone joins us, and then there are more hands on me—Finn’s strong, sure touch on my breasts, Jace’s playful fingers dancing up my inner thigh. I gasp into Kane’s mouth as sensations overwhelm me from all sides.

“Missed you so much,” Jace murmurs against my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot below my ear. “The house is empty without you. Cold.”

“Never letting you go again,” Finn adds, his voice low and intense as his fingers find my nipples, rolling and pinching until I’m arching into his touch.

Kane breaks our kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he watches his packmates pleasure me. “Show her how much we’ve missed her,” he commands, and they obey eagerly.

Jace’s mouth replaces Finn’s hands on my breast, his tongue circling my nipple before sucking it deep.

At the same time, Finn moves lower, spreading my thighs with firm hands before settling between them.

The first touch of his tongue against my pussy makes me cry out, the pleasure so intense it borders on pain.

“So wet already,” he murmurs against my pussy. “So ready for us.”

My hands fist in the furs beneath me as he licks a slow path from my entrance to my clit, gathering my arousal on his tongue. Above me, Kane watches with hungry eyes, one hand lazily stroking his cock to full hardness.

“Please,” I beg, though I’m not sure what I’m begging for. More of this exquisite torture? Release from it? “Please, I need ? —”

“We know what you need,” Kane growls, pushing himself into me. “We always know.”

He pushes inside of me, each thrust driving me higher, closer to the release my body craves.

Finn moves to kneel beside my head, his cock level with my lips, and I turn eagerly to take him into my mouth.

Jace continues his attention to my breasts, occasionally leaning up to capture my moans in a deep kiss.

“Come home to us,” Kane urges as he pounds into me, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. “Come back to us, Mia.”

The sound of metal on concrete yanks me violently from the dream.

My eyes snap open to find myself not in my warm nest surrounded by my alphas, but curled on the cold floor of my prison cell, alone and aching. The beautiful dream dissolves like morning mist, leaving behind only the hollow emptiness of reality.

Looking towards the source of the sound, I realize a metal tray has been shoved through a slot in the door.

It must be breakfast, though the single piece of dry toast sitting on it barely qualifies as food.

Morning light filters weakly through a tiny window near the ceiling, illuminating the stark emptiness of my cell.

The contrast between the vivid sensuality of my dream and the harsh reality of my situation is so jarring that it brings fresh tears to my eyes.

I was with them, I felt them, tasted them, heard their voices begging me to come home. And now I’m here, cold and alone on a concrete floor, with nothing but a piece of stale bread for breakfast.

I sit up slowly, wincing at the stiffness in my limbs from sleeping on the hard surface. The crushing pain in my chest has dulled to a persistent ache that’s almost manageable. Maybe it’s true that time heals all wounds.