Page 25 of Caged

I barely remember the run back.

My body is on autopilot, while my mind’s on that fucking balcony.

With her.

I sit in the driver’s seat, hand clenched on the steering wheel, and debate what to do. Now that I’m out of Idril’s immediate orbit, everything feels like some kind of strange dream. I’d almost entertain the thought, if not for the warmth I still feel in my chest.

A silver pool, sparkling and still, lapping gently against the edges of my soul. I don’t know what the hell it is, but it feels like Fate.

And if there is one thing I’ve learned during my long life, it’s that you never, ever fuck with Fate

Chapter 4

Caelan

Irace home like the hounds of Hell are nipping at my heels.

All the way back, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve left something important behind. Someone important.

It’s a constant pull. That feeling you get when you forget an important meeting or were supposed to be somewhere, and realize you forgot to show up.

It’s a lure in the middle of my chest begging me to go back. Back. Back.

All the way to Varenthrall’s if it has its way.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say my instincts have gained sentience in the last hour and are actively waging war on my common sense. I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white, fighting the urge to give in.

The city lights in the distance become clearer the further away I get from the Omega, before disappearing completely as I maneuver the vehicle in the opposite direction. Towards home. Away from her.

I roll down my window to let in some fresh air.

Nevermind the fact that there aren’t any smells in here for it to filter through. Nothing outside of lingering traces of my own scent from days ago when I stepped out without a descenter.

How could someone’s scent chase after me when I’ve never been close enough to smell it? It’s a phantom itch at the back of my skull, fucking with me.

I know that if I close my eyes, I’ll see the Omega as clearly as I had when she’d been only a few feet away. Standing on that balcony, cuddling that behemoth of a feral feline, her starlit hair, pale skin, and wide, bright eyes glowing under the moonlight.

I slam my hands on the steering wheel and release a growl that echoes around the SUV’s interior and into the empty fields beyond. A growl I’ve been choking down since I first saw her.

Starlit hair? I need to get a fucking grip.

One pretty face and all of a sudden I’m fucking Lord Byron. Next thing I know, I’ll be writing sonnets about her lips like a psychopath.

Fuck. Those Fatesdamned lips.

My muscles tense, leather creaking under the flex of my fingers as I imagine how good they’d feel wrapped around my⁠—

NO.

Godsdamnit, Caelan. Get your shit together.

I make sure the Bond is still locked down tight, and my packmates aren’t getting a random shot of lust second-hand. Then I floor the accelerator and race home, intent on outrunning whatever the fuck this is.

As soon as the Denali squeals to a stop in the circle drive, I notice Vae already waiting for me, having obviously just finished a run. His shirt is off and slung around his neck like a heathen, sweat running in rivulets down his abs.

He never misses a chance to show off, even if there’s no one around to show off for. His cocky grin and mirth-filled eyes feel out of place after the upheaval my entire system just went through.

I hesitate, debating on spilling everything just to get it all out, but quickly shut that shit down. What I feel shouldn’t be possible. I didn’t scent her. Didn’t taste her blood. It’s not like I invented a new fucking Mate Bond out of thin air.