Page 143 of Caged

There’s no helping it. I scream. The pain is so intense I can’t think through it. Can’t breathe through it. My mouth opens wide, my back arches, and my hands fly to my chest where I tear at my clothing with trembling fingers.

Some primal part of my brain is convinced that if I can get it out—if I can claw through skin and bone and muscles and rip it out—that I can make the pain stop.

Then, my Mate Bond pulses. An electric spark hums through me, and like a blindfold’s been ripped from my eyes, I suddenly understand.

This isn’t random. It isn’t some random punishment.

This is Caelan’s agony, reaching out and searching for a place to go because he can’t hold it anymore. He needs relief, and no matter how desperate I am for the pain to stop, I won’t deny the Bond. If it’s pushing his agony to me, that means Caelan’s at his limit. He physically and mentally can’t handle it any longer.

He needs a break, and the Bond is offering me a choice, as well as the knowledge of what I’d be taking on.

Terrified, shaking, I don’t hesitate to make my choice.

I wrench open my side of the Bond and allow it to pour his agony into me.

The fire crashes through me, pulling me under the tide and drowning me in fire. I’m shaking, screaming in agony, but I don’t let go. I hold on and take everything I can. As I wrap myself around our Bond, something about the way this feels sparks a memory. I suddenly remember feeling this exact same pain minutes—hours? Days?—ago.

When Caelan’s life was slipping away, I pushed all the strength I could gather down our Bond, fighting back against the poison. At first it hurt, but I’d quickly fallen unconscious, so it hadn’t mattered for long.

I don’t get the same mercy this time.

My father did this to him. My father is doing this to him right now, and I can’t do anything to make it stop. I can only carry what I can, and hope his friends will do what I can’t:

Find my father and make him stop.

“Father! Father, please!” My back arches so violently I fear my spine might snap. My body shakes, making my words tumble and trip over themselves as I try to explain to someone, anyone, what’s happening. If I can just make these males understand, they can stop it.

Stop it and save Caelan.

Using what’s left of my waning willpower, I make myself focus through fire so hot it feels ice cold and push past it, digging deep into my soul.

There.

I find the thread of our Bond, silver and shimmering and alive.

I wrap both hands around the thread and latch on. Then, with everything in me, I push.

I gather all the tattered pieces left of my soul. Every ounce of strength, every flicker of life, and memory of love I possess, and I shove it down our connection⁠—

And into Caelan.

For a brief, wonderful moment, the pain dulls. The thread lights up, shimmers, and pulls taut, pulsing with renewed life.

I exhale in relief. A soft, grateful smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

I did it. He’s going to be okay.

It doesn’t matter that I can feel my body shutting down. It doesn’t matter that my strength is fading to nothing. I hold on to our Bond and keep pushing. Keep funneling my energy to Caelan, knowing that little by little, it’s healing him.

It’s clumsy and messy, and I feel like there’s an easier, more efficient way to do this, but I don’t have the energy left to figure it out.

I curl around the silver thread and keep pushing, because as long as our Bond is still there, then he’s still alive.

And as long as he’s still alive, I refuse to let him die.

Silas’ voice breaks my concentration, cutting through the hazy fog I’ve fallen into.

“Your father isn’t coming to save you, Omega.”