Page 3 of Cage Me

“It’s the same as every other time,” I tell him, doing my best not to grumble. He might be driving me mad with his friendly persistence, but I’m not too stubborn to admit it’s because he seems to truly care. “What is it going to take for you to leave me alone?”

His responding smirk doesn’t bode well for me. “You finally saying yes to becoming part of my pack.”

“Your pack that barely even exists?” I toss out crudely since packs in No Man's Land aren't recognized by the Houses. “No, thanks. Again.”

Giving him my back, I continue walking in the wrong direction, but that doesn’t stop him from chuckling and calling out. “You’ll change your mind eventually.”

I might want to, but there isn’t a chance in hell that I will.

He lets me pass, and I brush off the interaction. No sense in wasting time thinking about things I’ll never have, like another pack.

Before I know it, I find myself standing just two hundred feet from the new portal. The crowd I spotted earlier has doubled in size, plenty of people curious as to who might come through today and if they’re anyone we need to worry about.

It seems whoever is guarding the other side only lets limited amounts of supernaturals in a couple times a week and so far, most have gone back to where they came from, and none that I know have caused any real trouble, but that doesn’t mean all newcomers will be the same.

The desire to see what’s on the other side still pulses within me as the intoxicating energy thrums through the air. Almost as if it’s summoning me forward, to be consumed by what lies within.

With a lofty shake of my head, I clear my thoughts and step further back from the portal. I’m not weak enough to give in to that feeling, but clearly, I’m curious enough to allow my subconscious to keep bringing me back here.

Gods have come through this thing. I can’t be faulted for my interest.

I catch sight of Tori, moving quickly past the portal to Tartarus. A fae who seems to avoid others possibly more than I do. Our interactions have been friendly enough, but I’ve really only chatted with her in passing, typically coming and going from Spells. Though, not lately. I briefly wonder if something’s going on with her, but then realize it’s none of my business. This is all temporary for me. So I keep telling myself.

The guards in front of the portal move into formation and I take a seat on the bench, refusing to move forward even as others within Crossroads get closer.

“I wonder who it will be today,” someone mutters walking by.

“Who knows, but nothing has been as exciting as Caius,” the woman with them says with a purr. “Who would have thought that gravedigger Raegan would be so lucky?”

The crowd has grown, and I can no longer see what’s going on or how many beings are coming through, but one of them roars loudly and makes my brows raise. Hopefully that one goes right the fuck back to where he came from.

Those watching begin to part as I hear a rumbly voice shout. “Move.”

Grouchy much? I stand and turn to leave. Drama doesn’t interest me. Power does.

With my back to the portal, I start walking in the direction of my shed until an energy begins to wrap around me. One filled with warmth and longing.

No.

My head shakes, and I force myself to keep moving, quicker than before. My body obeys right until I hear him.

“Mate.”

My eyes briefly flick toward the sky. Why? Why now?

When I turn around, hellbent on rejecting whoever this man is who’s coming closer by the second, I find myself speechless.

As soon as my gaze locks on to his nearly black eyes, there’s a tightening around my heart. A need so intense that all air leaves my lungs.

This…man, he’s on his knees, chest heaving and only looking at me. The ebony strands of hair sweep across his forehead as he bows his head. “Mine.”

Can he only speak one word at a time? For his sake, I hope not. Good looks will only get him so far.

His nearly black eyes flick up to meet my confused stare. There’s a tugging sensation in my chest as I take in his tight jawline and taut muscles peeking out from underneath his shirt, and I itch to smooth the crease between his brows.

But I only let that feeling last briefly.

My hand waves nonchalantly. “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong woman.”

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