Page 154 of Caged

Which is… impossible. This isn’t a jungle, and even if it was, wild felines don’t act like border collies.

As the cool morning air washes over my skin, I can’t help but wonder how the fuck that thing hauled ass more than thirty miles away in less than a night without knowing where it was going.

No trail, no scent. It just showed up like it stepped out of a dream.

Or a nightmare.

And why, in all the hells, did it come here?

Chapter 22

Idril

Idon’t know how long I’ve been in this cell.

Hours? Days?

There’s no way to calculate the passage of time. Stone walls surround me. There are no windows, no clock, nothing except restless cycles of sleeping and waking that confuse me more than they help.

I can’t even trust those, though. My concussion makes everything seem fuzzy and disjointed.

You’d think, after years spent confined to the same four walls of my own room as punishment, I’d be used to this. There’s no comfort. No blankets, no books, no food. It may as well be my room at my father’s estate.

I’m terrified, but the fear I feel for myself is a drop in the ocean compared to my fear for Caelan. No one’s returned since dumping me in here like trash left on the curb for pickup. Sounds are muted as well, so I don’t even know if there are others around.

I lay curled on my side, cradling my head on my arm as I run a finger along the cracks in the stone walls.

It’s freezing, and the smell of stale air and sweat permeates my senses. My only reprieve comes when I can no longer fight the pain and exhaustion and fall into unconsciousness.

Sleep is its own kind of punishment. My dreams are full of smoke shadows and suffocating darkness. In them, I’m screaming down an empty cavern that goes on and on forever. I scream and scream until my voice gives out, begging for someone to hear me.

Then I inevitably wake up, soaked in cold sweat, and the entire process repeats itself.

This is the first time I’ve been awake long enough to start piecing things together. I try to be patient, try to be optimistic, and tell myself that Caelan needs his rest and to leave our Bonds alone, but I can’t take it anymore.

I give in and reach out for him.

At first, there’s nothing.

Just that empty void where the thread that connects us should be. I panic, but quickly relax, realizing our Bond isn’t gone. It’s just buried deep.

I squeeze my eyes shut and focus, remembering the few beautiful moments we’ve had together. His hands on my body, his breath on my skin, the sound of his voice when he swore to me that everything was going to be okay.

Finally, I feel it.

For the first time since this nightmare began, I smile.

It feels like a blanket’s been placed over our Bond. That’s the only way I can explain it. I don’t know how to navigate it, but I know instinctively that I can still help him. I can still push my energy and love to him.

Just like before, I gather up everything I am—all my strength, my hope, my love—and push it down the thread.

And hit a wall.

The impact is so jarring that I jolt off the floor, landing painfully on my knees. My limbs flail like I’m being electrocuted.

My teeth snap together and bite into my tongue. Blood fills my mouth, and my moan of pain morphs into a keening Omega whine.

The sharp pain in my head explodes, pounding against the back of my eye sockets until I’m dizzy and nauseous.