Page 230 of Caged

“They think I lured you in so my father could take you.”

She finally looks up, and the pain in her eyes fucking ruins me.

“I’m not a guest, Caelan. I’m their prisoner.”

The world shifts under my feet. I shake my head, denying it before she’s even finished speaking. Denying it, even when I know it’s the truth.

No. No, no no⁠—

“No. They wouldn’t do that. They couldn’t… they—they wouldn’t.”

Wouldn’t they?

Even as I deny it, I know I’m lying to myself.

Of course they would. They’re my brothers. My pack. I know them better than I know myself. Dax has been suspicious of Idril from the first night, and Vae⁠—

Vae’s too scared of fucking up to make his own decisions. Without me there to dispute anything, he’ll follow Dax’s lead in all of it. And if Dax thinks she did something… if he believes she’s guilty…

“But—they would know who you were,” I ramble, my breath coming short and fast between the denials tumbling out.

Idril and I are Scent Matched. When an Alpha is Scent Matched to an Omega, the rest of the pack is as well. Every single time.

Except—

They don’t know we’re Scent Matched. Because of the fucking suppressants her father has her on.

Worse, Idril doesn’t even know we’re Scent Matched. I scented her, but she never scented me.

So while they’re treating her like the enemy, their bodies and instincts should be screaming that she’s pack. Their Alphas should be losing it, fighting against them, desperate to protect and love her.

But that isn’t happening because—because⁠—

Idril’s side of the Scent Match Bond with me doesn’t exist.

Dax and Vae probably still have her on suppressants. Dax won’t let her walk around with her Omega Perfume, ‘manipulating’ him. And whatever this Bond is that manifests as a Silver thread—we have no idea what it even is.

This is a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

“None of this makes any sense,” I mutter, my head spinning. I cup her shoulders in my palms. She feels like she’s one loud shout away from breaking.

What the hell are my brothers doing to her?

I know her father never cared for her. He stole her comforts, her food, her life. I could have helped her heal from his abuse. I planned on doing just that.

I would have spent months, if that’s what it took, rebuilding every bit of her that he tore down.

There used to be an innocence to her. Even through the nightmare of that night, there was still a soft thread of hope in those blue eyes.

Now, that hope is gone.

Someone stole it from her. Made her feel like she couldn’t even fight for it.

And it wasn’t her father. It was my fucking family.

“Tell me,” I demand. “Tell me what’s happening.”

She shakes her head, and I want to scream. “I’ll be fine, I just need you to get better, okay? I already feel better knowing—” her mouth snaps shut, eyes rounding in panic.