Page 68 of Caged Kitten

“We need to get out of here,” the vampire growled, bright eyes tracking the trio of guards who levitated the charred warlock for all to see, then slowly maneuvered him toward one of the staff doors. I gritted my jaw for a moment, then nodded.

“Agreed.”

“For real this time.” Rafe shot his cold blood breakfast back, then tapped the empty vial on the table. “Not just talk.”

We had entertained the idea of an escape countless times since the first day. Unfortunately, sunlight kept Rafe trapped and I would never leave this place without him. Then there was the squadron of armed crooks masquerading as guards, the wolf shifters patrolling the grounds, a warden hell-bent on making his prison baby the first, best, and most productive of its kind. If, somehow, we got past all that, there was still the impenetrable ward to deal with, and then the vast tundra wasteland of Siberia.

All this with our collars intact.

Because neither of us planned to leave this place a scorched corpse.

Not exactly a cakewalk, but it wasn’t just me and my friend anymore. I had a mate to think of, a prison family—a clan of misfits. Witch, vampire, fae, dragon. Hardly the most conventional clan, but they were mine. All the petty shit about Rafe marking Katja first—gone. Fintan’s antics—white noise. There was a bigger picture to consider, and as the scent of death and char and ash thickened in the air, vile black magic polluting our lungs, I decided it was time to act…

Or risk losing my new clan, the only clan I had ever valued or wanted, for good.

Growling, I shoved my tray away, the prison’s breakfast even more grotesque in the aftermath of everything. “Agreed.”

---