Page 100 of Marking Mia

“He wasn’t always like that,” I choke out between sobs, my face pressed against Finn’s blood-stained shirt. “When we first met, he was kind. He made me laugh. I don’t know what happened to him, what changed him into becoming so cruel.”

Finn’s arms encircle me, holding me close, one hand cradling the back of my head.

“Some men are good at wearing masks,” he murmurs into my hair. “Until they believe they own you. And then you see who theytruly are.”

I cry harder, mourning not the Justin who terrorized me over the past years but the man I had thought he was at the beginning. I grieve my own naivety, the years wasted, and the parts of myself that died under his constant criticism.

“I’ll never have to see him again,” I whisper, a strange relief blooming beneath the horror I felt. “I’ll never have to ignore his texts or calls. I won’t have to worry that he’ll find me.”

“Never,” Finn confirms, his arms tightening around me. “You’re safe now. You belong to us, and we protect what’s ours.”

“I don’t know how to feel,” I admit quietly. “Part of me is horrified, and part of me is... relieved. I don’t know what it all means.”

“Human,” Finn says simply as he cups my face. “Still caught between two worlds. Still learning what it means to be an omega, to be part of a pack. The pack protects its own, Mia. Without hesitation, without remorse. It’s our way.”

I nod slowly, neither agreeing nor accepting but acknowledging. Understanding. This is a world where my alphas will kill to protect me, where moral lines blur under the weight of pack loyalty and primal instinct.

“I need to wash,” I say finally, looking down at my blood-smeared skin. “And you... you need to burn those clothes. And shower. For a very long time.”

“As my omega commands,” he replies, smiling as his shoulders relax. As we separate, I catch his hand, holding it tightly despite the dried blood beneath his fingernails.

“Thank you,” I say softly, the words feeling both right and wrong on my tongue. “For protecting me. Even if I don’t agree with how you did it.”

Finn lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“I will always protect what’s mine,” he says simply. “No matter the cost.”

thirty-two

. . .

Mia

Iwake with a long sigh, stretching in my nest. For the first time in a week, my skin isn’t burning, and my veins aren’t filled with liquid fire. The desperate, clawing need that had consumed me is finally gone, leaving behind a pleasant soreness that speaks of thorough satisfaction.

My heat is over. It’s a relief, but I’m also saddened by it since I bonded so much with Kane, Jace, and Finn.

Sunlight streams through the partially drawn curtains, painting golden stripes across the rumpled furs and blankets around me. I squint at the digital clock on the bedside table: 11:07 AM. I’ve slept half the day away, but after the marathon of sex and need, I can hardly blame my body for being exhausted.

I run my hands down my naked body, pausing to massage my lower belly where a dull ache persists. The area feels tender and slightly swollen from the repeated knotting over the past seven days. My thighs bear faint bruises from strong hands gripping too tightly in moments of passion. My neck and breasts are marked with love bites in various stages of healing.

I am thoroughly and completely claimed.

“Worth it,” I murmur to the empty room, working my fingers in gentle circles over my abdomen.

The nest bears evidence of my heat. The sheets were changed daily, but still carried the mingled scents of four bodies locked in primal communion. The memory of hands on my skin, mouths at my breasts, and cocks filling me from every angle makes my cheeks flush with residual warmth. They had been relentless in their attention, taking turns satisfying the desperate need that had consumed me.

They fed me when I couldn’t remember to eat, bathed me when I was too exhausted to move, and held me when the overwhelming sensations made me cry. In the depths of my heat-madness, they were my anchors.

The nest feels strangely empty without them.

I’m used to waking surrounded by male bodies—a heavy arm across my waist, a rough cheek pressed against my breast, the rhythmic breathing of someone nestled against my back.

I sit up slowly, my muscles protesting with delicious soreness, and reach for a discarded t-shirt. It looks like Kane’s from the size of it, so I pull it over my head. The soft cotton drapes over my body like a short dress, carrying his scent.

Where are they?It’s unusual for all three to be absent at once, especially after my heat. Their protective instincts should be in overdrive.

As if in answer to my unspoken question, voices drift through the partially open window. Low male voices are speaking somewhere on the wraparound porch below. Curiosity prickles along my skin, and I slide from the nest, wincing slightly at the tenderness between my legs.

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