Page 23 of Caging Fire
“I want to go home,” Rowan choked out, her voice cracking just before the sobs came.
The sound of her crying hit me harder than I expected. A sliver of guilt cut through me. The feeling was sharp, unwelcome, and foreign. I shoved it down, burying it beneath layers of practiced control. There was no room for that now.
Rowan would eventually come around.
She just needed time. Structure. Safety. And the occasional behavior correcting punishment.
That’s what I told myself, anyway. She had been through too much, too fast. Rowan was ripped from everything familiar, thrown into a world she didn’t understand. She hadn’t had a chance to process any of it.
“Rowan,” I murmured gently, still purring as I spoke. “It’s okay. You are home. This is your home now.”
She didn’t answer, but her arms tightened around me like she was afraid to let go. I held her, letting her cry. I ran my fingersslowly through her hair, feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to melt beneath my touch.
Eventually, the shaking in her chest softened. Her breathing evened out, longer and slower with each inhale. I kept holding her until I was certain she’d drifted off, asleep against me.
As I watched her sleep, I found myself thinking about her nightmare.
She had cried out for her father.
When I was a child, I had nightmares too. But I never called for my father. He was cruel, distant, and long dead to me even as a kid. Instead, I cried out for my mother. Sometimes, on rare nights, she would come. She’d sit on the edge of my bed, brush the hair from my face, whisper that everything was fine. And for a moment, I’d believe her. But more often, I cried into the dark alone, while she poured drink after drink, stumbling through the house, too far gone to hear me or care.
Now, holding Rowan close, running my fingers through her hair, the urge to protect her was overwhelming.
Not just protect.
Control.
I wanted to shield her from every shadow, every fear, every pain. I wanted to wrap her in a cage of my making.
Safe, secure, and utterly mine.
Chapter 16: Rowan
Abeam of light filtered through the gap in the curtains and woke me. My head ached, heavy and dull, and I knew I hadn’t slept well. I felt restless, drained. A vague memory of a nightmare lingered, but the details were hazy and just out of reach. The more I tried to remember, the more it slipped away.
I did vaguely remember Cade, though. Had he been in the dream? The room still smelled faintly like him which was a quiet reminder of something I couldn’t quite grasp.
Surveying my bedroom, I checked the leather armchair in the corner, half expecting to see him sitting in it. I even peeked under the bed by tipping my head over the side. I couldn’t besure if someone had bugged the room or installed a camera, but I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized I was physically alone.
Memories of Cade and Ryker touching my body flooded my brain. I felt blood rush to my face as I remembered the embarrassing way I had begged to cum after being spanked.
What was actually wrong with me?
One moment, I was terrified, waking up in a strange place, kidnapped by Arca. The next, almost without warning, I was begging these men to do things to me I never thought I’d want.
The change was so sudden, it made my head spin. I barely had time to process the fear before it twisted into something else entirely.
Want.
Need.
Lust.
These men, correction,these psychos, had kidnapped me! They had also punished me, and manipulated my already volatile emotions. I hated them with every fiber of my being. And yet, even now, I wanted nothing more than to feel their hands on me.
How could my emotions flip so quickly?
One moment pure terror; the next, a desperate, confused craving.
