Why had she been running, again? Why in the world would she want to get away from this man…this alpha…when it was obvious that she was meant to be with him?
Mia's eyes flew open wide at the shocking thought, and she tried to wrench herself free.
Slowly, he let her down and turned her around in his arms. Strong features stood out in relief in the pale light, his dark eyes filled with a powerful emotion she couldn't name.
"Who…are…you?" he demanded, biting off each syllable. "You're not a whore, are you?"
"What? No!"
Why would he think that? Sure, Mia had worn a tight-fitting dress to the festival today, but it wasn't that revealing.
His words came back to her. Was that what he'd meant by 'Nicky and her girls '? Prostitutes?
"You're an omega," he said, almost to himself, releasing her abruptly.
For a split second, Mia felt a crushing sense of loss as his touch fell away, but it didn't last long.
Only until the last word sunk in. Omega.
No.
No. No. No.
That was impossible. She wasn't. She couldn't be.
She was a beta, just like everyone else she knew. There was no way that she could be an omega...and not just because she didn't want to believe it.
Omegas were incredibly rare. Even more rare than alphas, or so she had been taught. But she also knew that no woman could know her true nature until she was in the presence of an alpha.
Until she touched one. Felt his skin, his hot gaze. Until his pheromones found their way into her bloodstream and set off the reaction that had been lying in wait her entire life.
Oh God, no.
Mia started running again, her heart pounding wildly, dragging her injured leg. She wasn't only running from the alpha now—she was running from something even worse: her own true nature.
The alpha caught her just as easily as he had before, taking only two strides for her dozen. Picking her up with one hand, he spun her around and pressed her chest against his. Intense dark eyes stared into hers.
"Yes, you are." His voice was deep and strong, vibrating through her.
The warmth Mia had felt when he first touched her ignited into raging flames. Her heart started to hammer, but this time it had nothing to do with fear. An entirely different emotion kindled in her now, a different kind of fire.
Her hand moved independently of her mind, and Mia found herself reaching up and running her fingers through the alpha's thick, dark brown hair. She couldn't stop herself.
Oh God, why couldn't she stop herself?
She didn't want to lace her fingers around his massive neck. She didn't want to pull his lips down to hers. But she had to.
His mouth crashed against hers. Mia swept her tongue hungrily over his lower lip, over the ridge of his teeth, wanting to taste him, drink him in.
But just a taste wasn't enough. She wanted more. She needed more.
Cradled tight in his arms, Mia drew her legs up and wrapped them around his waist. Unfamiliar wetness dampened the inside of her thighs. The night air chilled the skin, making her shiver in delicious contrast to the heat where their bodies met.
The alpha growled his approval into her mouth before pulling back.
"You are an omega," he roared. "My omega!"
The last shred of rational thought that Mia still possessed rebelled at his words. This couldn't be real. It had to be a nightmare. She would rather be dead than an omega. At least then, her torture would be over.
Now it was just beginning.
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* * *Maddox: Book 4 (available April 21st, 2020)
Hope Johansen's lungs were burning.
With every swing of her arms, with every pump of her legs, the fire in her windpipe grew and grew. But she pushed past the pain and kept going.
She had to. What other choice was there? To lie down and die right here in the middle of the forest? Give herself up to the men who were chasing her?
Hell, no.
Hope might not make it out of this alive, but she would keep running—keep fighting—to the very end.
A blur of brown and deep green whipped by in her peripheral vision. Every tree, every hill and hollow looked exactly the same. Hope hadn't been able to make out a single distinct landmark for miles now. And with the thick forest canopy blocking the sun, she had no idea which direction she was headed.
Shit, she might have been running in circles this whole time. Might crest the next hill and run right into the men who were hunting her.
The men who had killed Sandra and Dave.
Hope's breath hitched at the memory. She did her best to force the horrible scene from her mind—the shouts, the screams, the blood.
Dear God, the blood.
But she couldn't deal with that now. Hope needed to focus all of her energy on putting as much distance as she could between herself and the killers.
Of course, that's what she thought she'd been doing for the last three days.
Three days.
It seemed like a lifetime ago. But only seventy-two hours had passed since Hope, Sandra, and Dave had started to set up camp near a lake off the Continental Trail.
Another hitch in her breath. Another overwhelming wave of guilt.
It had been Hope's idea to hike the Continental Trail. Just as it had been her idea to visit the nearby lake that she'd spotted on the map.
Hope had dreamed about the trip for years. It was easy enough to talk her friend Dave into coming with her, but his wife, Sandra, had been less enthusiastic.
Like most betas, Sandra was uncomfortable with the idea of spending days in the open wilderness, especially when there were such good walking paths around the city of San Francisco. And of course, Sandra was leery of hiking on a trail so close
