Page 137 of Caged

“Someone find that Omega! I don’t care if you have to tear this house to its foundations. Find her and bring her to me. Now!”

I try to speak. Try to force sound around my torn vocal cords.

She’s our Mate. Be careful with her, please.

Please.

Darkness swallows me whole, and the words die in my throat. The last thing I feel is the silver thread in my chest, pulsing weakly.

Chapter 20

Idril

My eyes flutter open to soft moonlight carving pale ribbons across the floor. Fingers of shadow cut across the wood, forcing my eyes to focus.

Something’s wrong with my head. My thoughts are slow. Sticky. Like wading through syrup.

I blink once. Twice. My blurry gaze catches on the line of darkness and follows it to the opposite side of the room.

The door to the balcony is open, and cold wind filters in, making goosebumps rise on my skin.

I’m lying on my floor. Why am I on the floor?

My head pounds relentlessly as I squint against the moonlight. My hand lies limp next to me, covered in a red, slick substance. I raise it, but it refuses to move.

I blink again—long and slow—and open my eyes.

Red. Why is my hand red?

Blood.

The word comes from far away. I blink again, and when I open my eyes, I’ve forgotten why they were closed.

Blood. Moonlight. Silver and screaming and⁠—

Caelan.

The first memory hits me and the rest rush in so fast it makes my stomach roll. I gag, the taste of acidic bile lingering on my tongue.

Father.

Father has Caelan.

Caelan. The guards. The gunshot. The silver.

Oh, Fates, he was shot with silver.

I try to sit up, but the world spins violently. My stomach heaves, and I barely manage to turn my head before sicking on the floor.

Oh gods…. Father shot Caelan. I don’t know much about vampires, but the way he reacted to the injury makes me think silver may be incredibly damaging.

Could it kill him? A single bullet wound?

I don’t know. I don’t know anything.

Tears stream hot and fast down my cheeks. Over twenty Fates-damned years suppressing my emotions, and now it’s like a dam has broken.

Pain. Fear. Anger. Red-hot agony—they rush through me, blending into a nauseating cocktail of despair.