Page 10 of Cage Me

I don’t have to turn around to know Drake is there, but instead of introducing him, I grab my brother’s hand and stand up. “How about we go check on Momma?”

His lower lip juts out. “She’s really sad, but also really happy.”

Yeah, I imagine so. Now, it’s time for her to get her emotions in check so we can burn a body and never look back.

Chapter 4

DRAKE

When I thought Spencer was trying to run from me, I assumed that would be the worst part of my day, but following her here, having her still keep me at arm’s length, then seeing what that little boy had to do…

With my wolf still being bound, I’m able to keep my deeper rage in check, but watching how Spencer shakes with a fury that also seems to be mixed with pain, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.

I wanted to save her from this sight when she thought it was those she cared about who had died, but this still isn’t good. At least, it doesn’t seem so by the pinched expression on her face.

The little boy she called Peter watches me even as he’s dragged away by his sister. I keep my emotions contained and nod at him, which makes him smile. Though, I’m not sure why.

The two go to their mother, and I watch as Spencer lifts her up and away from the corpse, forcing her up and into another room where I can no longer see them.

With the three of them out of sight, I decide just standing there isn’t who I am, but joining them doesn’t feel right, either.

Seeing the man that I know nothing about but can assume was a piece of shit right up until the moment he was killed by his own son, I decide to stay busy by disposing of the body for them.

In four long strides, I stand over the bloody mess. There are several holes in his torso and stomach, all turning his white t-shirt to crimson.

Reaching down, I grab one of his arms and begin to drag him back to the door we used to come into the house. I’m not sure where I’m going to put him, but anywhere outside has to be better than where he was.

Once I’m out the door, I toss the body onto the grass, then look for a shovel. This would be easier if I could shift and let my wolf dig the hole, but until I find that spiteful witch, I’m forced to figure things out in other ways.

While I miss being able to shift, it’s been so long since I’ve sensed him that I almost can’t remember what it’s like to be a true wolf shifter. When I was locked inside my own mind, I was completely isolated even from my inner beast. That alone had me feeling insane the moment the spell broke, but the thought of killing that witch before I truly lost myself to the madness kept me motivated.

Now, it’s Spencer.

I’d heard that the need to claim one’s mate could make a shadow shifter mad, and while I’m desperate for her, I wonder, if by not having access to my animal half, I’m able to keep the worst of my need at bay.

I chuckle to myself. How much more desperate or crazy could I get if I wasn’t cursed?

Potentially not feeling the full effects of the bond is likely a good thing when it comes to this woman, though. Something tells me Spencer wouldn’t appreciate a savage beast any more than she seems to a pleading man.

Still, her preference in being left alone isn’t going to happen.

I can’t let her go. There has to be a way to make her see that finding her mate is a good thing and I’m going to figure out how to do that. When I told her I wouldn’t force her hand, I meant it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t play dirty, either.

One look at her, the brief moments our skin has touched, the pain I can see hiding within the depths of her enchanting gaze… All of that made me know immediately that she’s worth fighting for. Yes, fate is at play here having created this magical connection, but it’s Spencer’s soul that calls to me, and I’m not willing to walk away from it.

“What are you doing?” a young voice asks.

Turning around, I find Peter standing there, still wearing his bloody clothes. “I’m looking for a shovel. Do you know where I might find one?”

He nods toward his father. “Are you going to bury him?”

“That’s the plan unless you have something else in mind,” I say, bending down to a knee so we’re nearly face-to-face.

His lips bunch together and eyes narrow slightly. “He wasn’t a good man, but he was still my dad.”

“So, you want to do something, but nothing too nice, right?”

Peter nods and shakes a finger. “Yeah, that.”

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