Page 38 of Caged

What are the alternatives, though? I tried to escape, and I failed. Spectacularly. Even if I make it out of the house now, my body is too weak, and I’m in too much pain. I probably wont even make it off the grounds.

I spend hours lost in my thoughts, examining and discarding plan after plan, growing more and more frustrated.

My options are so limited. There are two exits from my room—my balcony and my door, but my father installed a lock on the outside of my door after my escape attempt.

He locked me in, and now he’s having drinks with a monster who suggests selling my heat like he’d suggest the purchase a timeshare in Cabo.

Slowly, my sorrow begins to morph into something hotter. More violent.

Anger.

My whole life, I’ve followed the rules. Tried to be the best daughter possible. At first, I did hoped my submission would buy my father’s care. Once it became clear his love for me didn’t exist, I doubled down. Not because I thought he might eventually love me, but because being perfect was the only way to keep his anger at bay.

My mother taught me long ago that to stay safe I had to be soft, quiet, and submissive.

Don’t argue back, don’t give an opinion, don’t fight.

If you do, the punishment will only hurt worse.

I learned those lessons. Maybe not right away, but eventually the pain became too much to handle, and the hope that my father cared for me—even a little bit—whittled to nothing.

Now I’m facing a future that might be even worse than the decade I’ve spent trapped here. I don’t know how much longer I have, but I know I only have one option.

I have to get out of here.

That ember in my chest seems to catch. It burns hotter, sending warmth through my veins. My determination solidifies into something tangible.

I’m going to figure out how to escape…

Or I’m going to die trying.

Chapter 6

Vaelenor

My parents are grade-A, top-shelf assholes.

I know most kids think that about their parents at one point or another, but I have literal proof.

Proof that’s currently trying to blow out of my joints in real time.

“Godsdamnit, Vae. Get yourself together.” Gavran glares at me over his shoulder. “Take a deep breath. Reign it in. You’re no help to anyone flying apart at the seams.”

“Literally,” Daxen pipes up from the comms unit in my ear.

Big fucking help he is. Like I don’t know what happens when my Bone Curse activates. Like it isn’t already the most obnoxious part of my life. Even lurking in the background, it’s a constant pain in my ass.

Pun not intended.

“Yeah, guys. Got it. Appreciate the play-by-play of my imminent destruction. Maybe less talking and more trying to keep those fuckers off of me so I can try not to explode,” I snarl.

Under the smart-ass tone, my anxiety is hitting hard. My fingers clench around my sweat-slicked steel, limbs spasming while I fight to pull my shit together. My breaths are coming too fast. Each one is rough and uncontrolled. With every exhale that passes my parted lips, I fight to leash my fraying instincts, but I know things are about to go sideways, fast.

I rarely lose control like this. It’s been ages since I last felt that low, vibrating hum under my skin that signaled the Curse’s activation. Years since those sharp little blades detached themselves from my bones to rip out of my skin and go flying like the world’s deadliest confetti.

Once that starts, those blades will rip through the air searching for a home in anything with a pulse. Nothing within a two-hundred-foot radius will be safe. Doesn’t matter if they’re friend or foe.

And why the hell am I suddenly losing my shit tonight?