Page 37 of Blood Caged

“I told you, I can handle it,” I growl, my hand tightening on the doorframe.

Lucien chuckles, the sound grating on my nerves. “Of course you can. Just like you handled things with Ingrid all those centuries ago, right?”

The name hits me like a blow to the chest. Memories I’ve spent centuries burying surge to the surface – Ingrid’s face, her scent, the taste of her blood. The guilt and shame that followed.

I whirl around, barely containing my rage. “That was different,” I snarl, my eyes flashing dangerously. How the hell does he know that?

Maxwell, what have you done?

Lucien’s smirk widens, knowing he’s struck a nerve. “Was it? I wonder what the others in the Assembly would think if they knew about your…predilections.”

My vision blurs red at the edges, fury threatening to overtake me. But I force myself to take a deep breath to regain control. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose it.

Without another word, I turn and stalk out of the room, Lucien’s mocking laughter echoing behind me.

13

Chapter 13

Mia

Idrift in anotherworldly fog, the unfamiliar surroundings of the medical bay blurring around me. The sterile smell of antiseptic fills my nostrils, so different from the dank cell I’ve called home for…how long has it been? Days? Weeks? Time has lost all meaning.

Dr. Chen’s face swims into view, her gentle hands tending to me. She explains something about a concussion, but it’s hard to focus.

I wince as a sharp sting radiates from the back of my head. Dr. Chen’s voice cuts through the fog of pain.

“I’m putting in some stitches now. I’ve administered an anesthetic, so you shouldn’t feel more than a little pressure,” she explains, her tone clinical but not unkind. “Try to hold still for me.”

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to pull away. Every instinct screams at me to defend myself, to lash out with magic that refuses to come. Instead, I dig my nails into my palms, focusing on that small, controllable pain.

“Almost done,” Dr. Chen murmurs. “You’re doing great, Mia.”

The use of my name startles me. It’s been so long since anyone’s addressed me as a person rather than just “the witch” or “subject.” I blink back unexpected tears.

“There we go,” she says, her gloved hands gentle as she finishes up. “I was careful not to cut too much of your hair. If you brush it over the stitched area, it won’t even be visible.”

“Thanks,” I manage to croak out, my voice hoarse from disuse. “Great, now my imprisonment comes with a complimentary bad haircut. Guess I’ll have to update my Instagram bio to reflect my new ‘look.’”

Dr. Chen’s lips quirk in a sad smile, and I wonder if she sees the irony or just pities me. I close my eyes, memories washing over me like a tide.

How did I end up here? One minute, I was heading to Gran’s; the next…chaos. Pain. Betrayal. Heath’s face flashes in my mind, and anger burns through me, momentarily cutting through the fog. How could he? We grew up together, for God’s sake.

I try to summon my magic, reaching for that familiar warmth inside me, but just like always, it’s not there. The emptiness where my power should be leaves me feeling hollow, vulnerable in a way I’ve never experienced before.

Is this how non-magical people feel all the time?

The thought is terrifying.

Frustration bubbles up inside me. I’m supposed to be strong, a protector. Now look at me – weak, helpless, at the mercy of vampires and traitors.

But even as despair threatens to overwhelm me, a small spark of defiance flares in my chest. They haven’t broken me yet. I’mstill here, still fighting. And as long as I’m breathing, I’ll find a way out of this hellhole.

It must be the early hours of the morning when I sense a presence in the room, pulling me from my fitful sleep. My body tenses instinctively, but I force myself to remain still, keeping my breathing slow and even. Through barely open eyes, I see him – Soren Daire, the vampire who’s been both my captor and unexpected savior.

What the hell does he want?

Probably here to torment me.

---