17. MIA

Chapter 17

MIA

~ Flashback ~

“Mama! Mama!” The little girl clings to the hem of her mother's summer dress.

Flowing from her waist, the skirt reminds the little girl of the garden outside.

The garden she wishes to play in right now.

“ Mi hija …” her mother sighs, though her voice remains a song only a mother can sing as she reaches for her and lifts her up. Propping the little girl on her hip, the mother continues to stir the porridge on the stove.

The heavenly aroma of honey and cinnamon drifts into the child's airways. But it's not enough to grab her attention.

“Mama! I play outside!” the little girl squeals as she winds tiny arms around her mother's neck.

Mama giggles as she places the spoon on the side and gives her daughter her undivided attention. Flicking a gentle finger over her nose, she's able to get the little girl to laugh.

“My dearest Mia…” Mama prattles as she swoops Mia out of the kitchen and onto a dining chair. She leans over and plants a kiss on her forehead, attempting to go back to the kitchen. But Mia stops her with a tiny fist curled around her sleeve.

“I play outside,” Mia huffs, her little heart shaped lips forming a firm pout.

Her mother can't help but giggle at her daughter's antics. If Mia could help it, she would live outside.

To her relief, a pair of familiar footsteps descend the wooden staircase.

“Good morning, mi amor, ” a male voice rings out, drawing the attention of both mother and daughter.

Mia instantly slides from her mother and runs to her father with outstretched arms. Chuckling, the man lifts her and spins her around in a flurry of lighthearted laughter.

“Papa!” she squeals, throwing her arms around his neck. “I play outside!”

Mia's mother giggles under her breath as she goes to greet her husband. “Good morning, Mateo,” she greets before pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Your daughter is adamant to go outside this morning.”

“Oh, she is?” Mateo looks at his daughter who gives him the widest grin as she nods her little head. “Does Mama not want to take you out?”

“Nope!” Mia pouts to earn the sympathy of her father.

Mateo chuckles as he follows his wife into the kitchen. “Why not, Maria? It's a beautiful day…”

“I'm busy…” Maria throws apologetically over her shoulder. “I promised Cynthia I would make porridge for the pack this morning.”

“You did?” Mateo frowns as he peers over his wife's shoulder into the large pot of porridge. “Why couldn't Cynthia do it?”

Maria gives her husband a smile. “She called in sick last night,” she explains why the cook isn't taking care of breakfast this morning.

Mateo frowns. “Daniel also called in sick last night. I think I should pay them a visit later.”

“You should,” Maria agrees. “But after you've played with Mia outside.”

“Of course, mi amor !” Mateo whisks his daughter toward the front door when suddenly, he stops.

“Did you hear that?” he throws over his shoulder. He holds his daughter tightly to his chest, enlisting the power of his heightened hearing to focus on the sounds outside.

Maria joins him near the door, placing a hand on his shoulder. The gasp that escapes her lips becomes a shiver that travels down her spine.

Instinctively, Maria folds her arms around her husband and daughter.

“Do you think it's them?” she asks tersely.

Mateo holds out Mia for his wife. When his daughter is safely in Maria's embrace, he takes a step forward.

“I hope not…” he whispers as he proceeds to the door.

Maria reaches out to stop him. “No, Mateo!” she cries out, but it's too late. Mateo leaves their cabin, shutting the door behind him.

Little Mia stares up at her mother with horror in her eyes. She doesn't understand what's going on. But she senses the fear rolling off her mother's aura in waves.

For a four-year-old, she can hardly make sense of it. She follows her instinct as she nestles her face into her mother's dark locks. That's where she feels the safest.

Especially when chaos ensues outside their door.

Maria panics, rushing to the bedroom where she pulls the corner of the rug. She lifts a few floorboards, unearthing a tunnel of some kind.

“Come here, mi hija…” she calls Mia over, pulling her into the tightest hug she's ever been in. Peppering kisses all over her face, Mia is able to ignore the howls and cries outside.

Maria sets her daughter in the cavity on the floor. “Whatever happens, don't come out,” she warns.

Little Mia is afraid, tears welled up in her eyes. She doesn't understand what's going on, but she has to put on a brave face.

She knows that much.

“Don't be afraid,” Maria encourages her, giving her one last smile as she's about to cover the floor with the boards. All Mia can do is nod. The last thing she sees is her mother's face with tears glossed over her eyes.

When her surroundings are covered in darkness, Mia listens to the torrent of chaos outside. The distant cries, the gut-wrenching howls. The whimpers before the splitting and cracking of wood.

It sounds torturous, filling little Mia with dread as she curls into herself between the floorboards.

Mia sniffs when a strange smell surrounds her. Through the cracks in the floorboards, gray smoke begins to fill the space she hides in. Instinctively, she covers her mouth with her arm as she stifles the urge to cough.

It builds in her throat as she becomes fearful of what lies outside. The crackling of fire begins to rip through her eardrums, alerting her of the dangers outside.

When the treacherous flames begin licking at the Alvarez's cabin, Mia knows she has to get out.

Using all her might, she pushes at the loose floorboards with her tiny palms. When they finally lift, she crawls out of the space on all fours, calling out for help.

“Mama! Mama!” she cries as she scrambles to her feet. Tears flow down her cheeks as the full weight of panic imbues her resolve. Still, she persists as she rushes out of the bedroom.

Only to be faced with giant flames blocking her way.

Outside, screams thunder in the air just as Mia's screams fill the air inside the cabin. Mama is nowhere to be seen or heard.

And Mia is all alone.

Until the door comes crashing in and an unfamiliar figure stands in the doorway.

“There she is,” the strange man announces above the tearing of fire. He points at Mia, and suddenly two more men approach her.

Unafraid of the flames, one extinguishes it with a hose. He clears a path big enough to get to Mia.

The two men head over to a quivering Mia, grabbing her arms and dragging her out of the cabin. The man who'd given instructions waits outside, watching the destruction with a satisfied grin.

“Alpha Silas…” one of the men carrying Mia calls to him.

Mia catches one glimpse of the horror around the village. The cabins are up in flames, thatched roofs collapsing and wooden walls crumbling to the ground. Wolves lie unconscious on the ground, scattered around in lifeless form.

“Mama… Papa…” she whimpers as tears roll down her cheeks. But it's pointless.

Neither of them are anywhere to be seen.

“They're not coming to save you,” the menacing man with blue eyes turns to her. He produces a handkerchief and suddenly covers Mia's mouth.

She tries hanging on. Tries fighting the effects of the acrid smell that blurs her vision. But it's too powerful, and she blacks out.

***

“Gah!” I gasp as if I take my first breath since passing out.

Lying on the cold, hard floor, I lift my hands to my face. As if checking to see which version of myself I'd woken up as.

To my relief, I wake up in the present time. The very vivid dream finally came to give me all the answers I sought.

Blackclaw was never my pack. As if the knowledge is ingrained in my being, I realize that the village belonged to my old pack. The one I was born into.

Memories of that pack come rushing forward again, just as they did when Cyrus pulled the necklace off.

Absentmindedly stroking my bare neck, I gulp. “Mystic Moon…” The name of the pack comes to me as naturally as the blood coursing through my veins.

With tears welled in my eyes, I pull myself into a seated position on the floor. Along with my shuffling comes the sound of metal clinking.

Lifting my hands to inspect them, I see the metal bands around my wrists. Connected to metal chains, I'm bound to the floor.

The face of the man I saw in my dream is a familiar one. Back when I was four, he was a stranger. Now, I know him as Silas – the ex-Alpha of the Blackclaw Pack.

Cyrus's father, who had captured me from the village after destroying it. I'd never seen my parents again, only a picture I'd been given to keep their memory alive.

It was the necklace I'd been wearing that kept my memories of that day buried.

But why had I been kept alive?

Guilt and shame for being the only member of Mystic Moon to survive Blackclaw's attack overwhelms me. Wiping my tears away, I notice that I'm moving slowly.

Slower than usual. As if time has slowed down, even if the distant ticking of a clock sounds normal.

“What–” Trying to make sense of the distorted concept of time, I lift my hands in front of my face. The metal chains shackling me to the floor shine as if they've been polished.

Instinctively, I sniff the metal bars and don't find an odor. Unlike the sulfuric smell of ordinary metal, the chains don't have a smell. I run a finger across one band, noting how smooth the metal is.

“Silver…” I gasp as realization dawns on me. Silver, in its purest form, sterling and glinting, binds my wrists to the chains. And only sterling silver could slow down my sense of time. The only metal lethal to a werewolf.

Blinking my eyes is cumbersome as I struggle to get to my feet. It takes every ounce of strength in me to pick myself up. When I finally do, gripping the bars of the cell surrounding me, I feel a tug in my chest.

As if my heart had just been squeezed. My mind feels fuzzy as if it's trying to tell me something.

And that's when his name rolls off my tongue.

“Theo…”

Like a mystical reply, a buzzing sound erupts in my eardrums. The slow pace of my heartbeat steadily begins to rise. Not alarmingly so, but enough to warn me that I have to get out of here.

Staring at my wrists, I try thinking of a way to get free. The bands seem solid and unbreakable. And because they're silver, I won't be able to bring my wolf forward to break through.

The longer and harder I stare at my wrists, the tighter my brows knit into a frown. I'm startled when hairline cracks form on each band around my wrists. Shoving my hands down, I take a deep breath before lifting them again to inspect.

As if I don't believe what I just saw.

To confirm my suspicions, the little cracks still exist over my inner wrists. I stare intently at the bands again, and the cracks tear until the silver bands fall off my wrists.

Still glowering, the bars on the prison cell bend to my will, which I'm hardly aware of. Until now, when I realize that I possess a power that allows me to use my vision to break things apart.

The fuzziness in my head clears as I regain my full capacity of being. As soon as I'm clear-minded, I hear a familiar voice entering my head.

‘Mia! Mia, where are you?!’ is Thedore's urgent cry. He's here, in Rocheport. But the desperation in his voice is evident, and I know that I have to get to him.