Page 68 of Mating Mia
Later that night, my alphas and I are back at the waterfall, visiting my parents.
This time we have a bonfire roaring between us while my parents are canoodling and might as well be sharing the same space.
I sit on a smooth log that my father dragged close to the flames with Ash nestled contentedly in my arms, drinking drowsily from his bottle.
My father’s arm is wrapped around my mother’s shoulders while she leans into him, her hand resting on his thigh. The way they touch each other constantly, instinctively, as if separation is physically painful, still amazes me.
“More potatoes?” my mother asks, already reaching for the foil-wrapped packet nestled in the coals.
“I’m stuffed,” I say with a smile. “The fish was perfect.”
My father beams with pride. “Caught them myself this morning. Nothing like fresh trout cooked over an open flame.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Kane, Finn, and Jace exchange looks laden with meaning.
They’ve been doing that all evening—communicating in that silent way they have, a language of subtle glances and micro-expressions I’m still learning to decipher.
I can feel that something’s up and they’re hiding it from me. If it’s anything to do with Orion, I want to know, but I don’t want to ruin the mood right now by bringing up the enemy of my family.
“Your cooking skills are way better than mine,” I tell my father, shifting Ash to my shoulder as he finishes his bottle. “I nearly burned down our kitchen yesterday trying to make salmon.”
“You’ll get there. I had to learn from scratch, too, after I ran away. Ezra was the one who taught me how to cook fish without turning it into charcoal,” my mom says, smiling.
The mention of my other father, one of the two who died protecting my mother the night Orion’s pack raided their home, doesn’t bring the heavy silence it once did. We’ve reached a point where memories of Ezra and Theo can be talked about without so much pain.
“What would Ezra think if he were here right now?” I mutter out loud, wondering about my other father.
“He would be so proud of you,” Liam says, his eyes finding mine across the flames. “Both of them would. Seeing you with your son, with your alphas... this is all we ever wanted for you.”
Emotion wells in my throat, too thick to swallow around. For so long, I believed I was unwanted, discarded by parents who couldn’t be bothered to keep me. The truth that I was loved still feels like a miracle I don’t quite deserve.
“I never thought I could be this happy,” I admit, gently patting Ash’s back as he drowsily rests his head on my shoulder. “Sometimes I’m afraid to believe it’s real, that I get to keep this.”
“It’s real,” Kane says, his deep voice carrying easily over the crackling fire. “And it’s yours, for as long as you want it.”
Ash lets out a tiny burp, then sighs contentedly against my neck. His weight grows heavier as he surrenders to sleep, his breath evening out into the rhythm I’ve memorized over the past six months. Every inch of him is familiar to me now—the curve of his cheek, the smell of his hair, the way his tiny fingers curl around mine when I feed him. My son. My miracle.
“I think someone’s ready for bed,” my mother observes, setting aside her plate and wiping her hands on a cloth.
I nod, carefully transferring my sleeping son to my mother’s waiting arms. Ash doesn’t stir, completely relaxed in his grandmother’s embrace. The sight of them together—my mother cradling my son with such tender care- makes my heart swell almost painfully in my chest.
“We’ll just be a few minutes,” I say, watching as my parents disappear toward the cave entrance, my father whispering something to Ash that makes my mother smile.
When I turn back to the fire, I realize I’m alone. Kane, Jace, and Finn have vanished without a sound, leaving me sitting by the flames with only empty logs for company. Confusion furrows my brow as I scan the clearing.
“Guys?” I call, rising to my feet. “Where did you go?”
I peer into the darkness beyond the bonfire’s glow. Something gleams on the ground just at the edge of the light—small, pale objects scattered in a line leading toward the waterfall.
Curious, I step closer. They’re rose petals, I realize with a start. White rose petals forming a path into the darkness. My heart begins to race, though I don’t yet understand why.
Something about this setup feels significant, momentous, and my heart begins to race faster.
I follow the trail, each step carrying me farther from the fire’s warmth and deeper into the velvet darkness of the forest night. The petals are easier to see as my eyes adjust, their pale colorcatching what little moonlight filters through the trees. They lead steadily toward the waterfall, the sound of rushing water growing louder with each step.
As I round the final bend in the path, I stop dead in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat.
The clearing before the waterfall has been transformed.
