Page 271 of Caged

Tired of being in pain. Of being ignored. Of being hurt. So, so tired of being punished for being an Omega.

Tired of being punished for existing.

“Dax was right,” Vae sneers. “You’re manipulative. I should have never⁠—”

His words cut off.

I don’t know why he stops speaking. Maybe he realizes I’m not listening. I’m not even looking at him. I turn all my focus to the warmth in my chest and stay quiet, just like I always do.

My body is utterly, perfectly still.

‘Be still. Be quiet. Be good.’

I stare at the floor. The stone floor where I sleep. My eyes are unfocused, blurry around the edges. Everything feels untethered and distant, like I’m floating outside of my body. The chill of the stone seeps through my leggings and into my skin, a stark contrast to the air surrounding me and the fire inside of me. It rages and burns, spitting and flickering out of control.

And I let it.

Everything’s hazy and dream-like. I taste the acrid scent of smoke on my tongue, filling my throat and mouth and rolling against the back of my teeth. Smell the scent of ozone, crisp and poignant in the air. Feel little pinpricks of static popping along the skin of my arms, neck, and legs like tiny bubbles of light.

My eyelids flutter closed.

“Idril.” Vae’s voice is a distant echo, like he’s yelling underwater.

I don’t want to hear what he has to say, though. I don’t want to hear anything. I just want to fall into the flame that’s grown and reformed into a blazing inferno. It calls to me, begging me to join it. To let go.

So I do.

I stop fighting. Stop trying to push the heat back or keep it contained.

I clench my jaw, lift my chin⁠—

And open my eyes.

Vae stumbles back with jerky movements, nearly tripping over his feet. His hand flies toward his hip like he’s reaching for a weapon he doesn’t have.

Because why would he need to defend himself?

Why would anyone need to protect themselves from the Omega?

Vae looks afraid, and the realization presses against something inside of me, nearly pulling me out of the numbness that’s suffused every cell of my body.

He’s an Alpha.

What does he have to be afraid of?

I’m not afraid. I’m nothing. I’m not crying or pleading or breaking.

I’m just done.

Fire flares brighter and my focus on the Alpha recedes, giving way to a comforting warmth that’s ancient and powerful and new. The warmth wraps around me, soothing my instincts with an indignant confidence that feels wholly alien, yet perfectly right.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Omega?” Vae snarls, and his voice breaks on the last word.

But it’s not his voice I hear.

It’s my mother’s.

It thrums and pulsates until it sounds like another language. One I’ve never heard before, but know all the same.