Page 213 of Caged

When my skin touches the symbols, something inside of me sits up, paying attention.

The same part that woke when Vae almost touched me the other morning.

The electricity in the air grows thick, thrumming with power. Just like the blade thrums in my hands. It’s singing in a frequency I can’t hear, but feel in my bones.

My Bond with Caelan pulses in my chest, brighter and stronger than before. I get the sense it’s greeting an old friend.

The electricity hums louder, the air dancing with invisible sparks.

The lights above me explode.

Glass shatters overhead, spraying throughout the room like an explosion of stars, sharp enough to kill.

Everything goes dark.

I hunch over, making myself smaller, curling my body around the dagger. I don’t know what I do it, but I clutch it to my chest, pressing it close to my heart.

That clicking noise behind the walls starts again, then there’s a loud POP!, and the continuous hum running through the building whirls off. A siren blares somewhere above my head, and distant shouts ring through the halls.

It sounds like a chaotic mess, like everyone thinks we’re under attack.

I see sparks spitting outside the room, and what sounds like a very pissed-off Alpha, cursing about systems frying and everything short-circuiting.

I catch the scent of ozone in the air, but on my next breath, it’s gone.

Once the mayhem dies down, I glance up warily from my crouched position. Fumbling in the dark, I re-sheath the dagger and try to stand. It’s slow going, pulling myself up inch by inch, using whatever I can find around me to help.

Sharp pain shoots through my stomach and chest, my injury screaming. My stomach rolls with nausea, and I moan. It’s been hours since Cage pushed me, but the ache’s only sharpened.

My knees buckle, and spots dance in front of me. Each time I move, the spinning worsens. I squeeze my eyes shut to keep from getting sick.

Once I’m finally standing, I lean against the wall, panting while I let the pain settle.

Fates, I’m starting to think there’s something seriously wrong.

I expect Cage to rush in, and brace myself for his accusations. Or, maybe it’ll be Vae this time, storming through the door like an indolent prince. Sneering at me down his nose in contempt and demanding answers I don’t have, for things I don’t even understand.

I don’t know how long I lean there, forcing back the nausea and pain. But when someone bursts through the door, it isn’t Vae or Cage, or even irreverent Silas.

It’s Daxen.

He looks like a demon, backed by the red lights of the emergency LED’s, his face a storm of accusation. He doesn’t have to say a word. Anger suffuses every inch of his aura, and the harsh lines of his face tell me all I need to know.

He takes one look at my position—leaning against the wall, shattered glass all over the floor, hand wrapped around the hilt of a dagger I shouldn’t have—and makes up his mind.

It isn’t the gnawing pain of my injury that has my body deflating under his scrutiny. It isn’t the oppressive fatigue, insatiable thirst, or the constant slow-burning hunger that makes me curl my shoulders, press my chin to my chest, and bare my throat with a defeated whimper.

It’s not even the constant shriek of my Omega screaming at me to make myself smaller and more submissive in the face of a furious Alpha that has my eyes burning with exhaustion.

It’s the absolute certainty that no matter what I say, no matter how I explain the dagger in my hand, he’s already decided I’m guilty of something.

He won’t listen.

The only thing Daxen sees right now is a target he needs to dispose of.

I unclench my fingers. Let the dagger fall to the floor with a muffled thud. Daxen’s eyes follow its descent, his lip curling in contempt.

My eyelids flutter closed. I know what’s coming. Everything that goes wrong works as a convenient excuse for them to take their anger out on me.