Page 146 of Caged

Silas jogs down the stairs. His arms barely hold me steady, so I slam up and down on his shoulder as air’s forced from my lungs with each step.

Eventually, it happens one time too many, and I gag. There’s nothing in my stomach, so when I vomit, the only thing that comes out is bile that burns the back of my throat. It lands on the floor of the foyer right as Silas skids to a stop.

He groans. “Mother fuck—come on! Really, Omega?”

Part of me wants to apologize, but I have nothing left to give him.

Gav coughs, which sounds more like he’s covering a laugh. The next thing I know, I’m being flipped around, hauled into a strong chest, and held bridal style.

I peek one eye open. Silas glares at me like he wishes I’d never been born.

“If you throw up on me again, I will bury you myself. Fuck the answers. Fuck your daddy. Get me, little liar?”

I nod weakly. He turns his glare away from me and sweeps his gaze around the foyer. I know exactly what he’s seeing, and I don’t want to look. I don’t want to relive any of what happened here.

“This is unreal,” Silas mutters. “Is that a crack in the flooring?”

“Yeah,” Gavran replies, stepping closer. “On the ceiling around the light fixture, too. Looks almost like an earthquake hit the house.”

“When was there an earthquake?”

There’s a pause before Gavran replies, “There wasn’t. Something large enough to cause this kind of damage would have been felt for miles. This is from something else.”

While his attention’s on the destroyed foyer, I take the opportunity to study the large male.

He’s the most massive Alpha I’ve ever seen in my life. Brown hair hangs to his shoulders, he has piercing amber eyes, and he seems to wear a perpetual frown. His thighs and shoulders strain against his tactical clothing, making him seem even larger than he is.

He catches me studying him and frowns, but I don’t look away. He studies me, but unlike the last time a male made a point of running his gaze up and down my body in this very foyer, he doesn’t leer. Not like Alexander.

Gavran’s expression is more considering. Wary.

My limp fingers flex where they lie on my stomach. I feel very much like prey preparing to run from a predator. Not that I’d get far. I’m small, starved, covered in injuries, concussed, and soaking wet.

Tears burn behind my eyes. I squeeze them shut, not wanting either Alpha to know how upset I am.

Which is stupid. It’s not like they’re not aware of the strength disparity between us.

It’s just…

I don’t want to be prey anymore.

I’m so tired of being small and scared and helpless. I want to be brave. I want to beg these Alphas—no, not beg, order them—to bring me to Caelan. But the intelligent, calculating look in Gav’s eyes reminds me of my place.

Part of me understands. In a way, I’m the reason why their friend is hurt. My mere existence is a large reason why he nearly died.

Another part—smaller, but just as insistent—is furious. That part wants to scream and rage and fight.

Gav’s dominance crashes over me, and my terror wins out. I drop my gaze and make myself as small as I can.

This. This is familiar. Like putting on an uncomfortable pair of sweats, I don’t necessarily like, but wear to keep me warm, knowing the cold will kill me if I don’t.

This, I know how to do.

I’ve spent my entire life waiting for the chance to live. I dreamt of the day I’d leave, escaping my father’s unending hatred and unjust punishments. In order to survive until that day came, I spent every moment making myself small and compliant. Submissive. I never argued back. Never voiced an opinion. Never stood up for myself.

Not until recently.

I know how to survive around Alphas who want me dead. I have over twenty years of practice.