Page 19 of Caged

I can only hope he mistakes the growl in my tone as irritation at being forced to repeat myself.

“Listen, either someone has gone out of their way to erase this girl from existence, or⁠—”

“Or there’s something else super fucked up happening inside that house,” he finishes.

I grunt in agreement.

The feeling of ants crawling under my skin is back. My body twitches, and I have the overwhelming urge to move. For the first time in my life, I’m having trouble keeping perfectly still on a mission.

I need to run, fight, something.

Fates, get it together, Caelan.

Glancing around, I realize how far off course I’ve veered. It’s stupid to get this close. An unnecessary risk.

That doesn’t seem to matter to my instincts, which are clearly in the driver’s seat.

It doesn’t help that I can’t peel my gaze away from her. Can’t stop tracing the lines of her body with my eyes.

She’s far too thin. Even in lounge shorts and a sweatshirt that hangs on her frame, I can tell she’s too small.

Most Omegas have natural curves despite their small frame. Her curves are there, but they seem more like a suggestion of what could be, as though her body isn’t getting enough fuel to fill out the way biology intends. Which means she’s either a beta, or an Omega who is underfed and possibly malnourished.

A growl rattles deep in my chest. The thought of her not having enough to eat creates a red mist over my vision. My fists clench and unclench at my sides.

“It’s got to be her,” I grit out. “Unless Varenthrall remarried someone forty years his junior. It’s not staff. She’s not working, and she’s dressed too casually.”

“What’s she look like?” Dax asks. “Does she look like Varenthrall?”

My brows furrow. How the hell would I remember what her father looks like?

I mean, I have an idea, based on the photo in the dossier, but it’s not like I memorized his features well enough to know if someone’s related to him.

I sigh, humoring him.

“Long white hair. Small. Maybe five feet. Tiny thing. I can’t see her face.”

Gods… I want to see her face.

The thought slams into me like a freight train. Fast. Hard. Fucking devastating in its intensity. At this moment, I’ve never wanted anything more than to see this girl’s face.

Fuck. What is wrong with my head?

Dax exhales a frustrated breath. I can feel his irritation through the Bond.

“I’ll do more digging. I’m not conceding defeat yet. Just to be safe, finish your sweep and get out of there. We can regroup at home.”

There’s a click in my comms, and Dax is gone.

Well, not actually gone. Muting us is just his way of saying, ‘Don’t bother me unless it’s an emergency.’

Typical, really. He never has had any fucking manners.

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders. Time to wrap up and get out.

It’s honestly embarrassing how easy this place is to infiltrate. Varenthrall has the bare minimum when it comes to security—outside of the building on the back of his property, of course. Either he’s just that arrogantly confident, or he doesn’t think there’s anything in his home worth guarding.

What about the girl?