Page 67 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

I reached for the water glass on the table, moved too fast, and accidentally knocked her mask.

The mask slipped off.

The silver piece hit the floor with a crisp sound.

I looked down at her.

Without the mask, her whole face was exposed in the light.

A face I knew intimately.

Curved brows, long lashes, delicate nose, full lips—and those eyes that even closed could stop my heart.

Mia.

My brain went blank.

My heart stopped beating, then pounded against my chest at a nearly insane rate. Blood rushed to my head then drained away, leaving dizziness. My ears rang, everything before me shook, like the whole world had shattered then reassembled wrong—nothing fit.

It was her.

Really her.

She wasn't dead.

She was alive.

I'd searched for five years, waited five years, regretted for five years, tortured myself for five years—and here she was, in my arms, living, warm, breathing.

"Mia..." I heard my own voice, rough as if forcibly squeezed from deep in my throat.

Chapter Fourteen

Mia

"Mommy, will you sing the Moonlight Lullaby tonight?"

Lily perched at the edge of my vanity, chin resting on her folded arms, those gray-blue eyes sparkling under the lights. She was only four, but she'd already mastered that look—the one that made saying no impossible. Must be innate, because I sure as hell didn't teach her that.

I bent down and kissed her forehead. "If you let Aunt Emma brush your teeth and wash your face, and go to bed, then maybe Mommy will consider it."

"Then I'll be extra good today!" She raised her little hand like she was taking an oath, then tilted her head at me. "But Mommy, why do you cry every time you sing that song?"

My hand froze.

Because I wrote it for you, baby. For you, who I thought would disappear with me.

But I didn't say that. I just smiled and pinched her little nose. "Because Mommy's a crybaby."

"No, you're not!" She shook her head seriously. "Mommy's the bravest mommy ever!"

My heart melted completely. This little person, this miracle that grew inside my body, this light in my darkest days—she'd never know how many times she'd saved me.

Five years ago, I fell from that cliff. Ice-cold river water flooded my lungs. I thought that was the end.

But fate had other plans for me.

The current washed me ashore, soaked through, barely alive. An old fisherman who lived downstream found me and carried me back to his ramshackle cabin. I lay there for three days, burning with fever, consciousness swinging between waking and oblivion. The old man didn't know medicine—just boiled mountain herbs and made me drink them.