Page 77 of Blood Caged

I sigh. This isn’t going to be easy. How could it be, after everything that’s happened? The failed escape attempt, her friends’ apparent executions, moving her into my quarters – it’s all created a chasm of distrust between us.

“Let’s just get this over with,” I say, gesturing toward the medical equipment I’ve set up in the corner of the room.

Mia walks over, her movements stiff and reluctant. As I prepare the needle, I can feel the tension radiating off her. It’s a far cry from the almost comfortable routine we’d fallen into before.

“You don’t have to watch,” I tell her softly as I swab her arm with alcohol.

She lets out a snort. “Right, because closing my eyes will make this all better.”

I insert the needle, trying to be as gentle as possible. Mia winces slightly but remains silent. I find myself struggling with a deep sense of unease. How did we end up here? And more importantly, how can I ever regain her trust after everything that’s happened?

And why do I care?

The silence stretches between us, filled with unspoken accusations and regrets. I know there’s nothing I can say right now to make this better. So I focus on the task at hand, all too aware of Mia’s eyes boring into me, filled with anger and betrayal.

I watch Mia’s blood flow into the collection bag, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at me.

And then it happens: her body goes rigid. Her eyes roll back, and a gasp hisses past her lips.

“Mia?” I say, alarm rising in my voice. “What’s wrong?”

Before I can react, a burst of energy explodes from her body. It slams into me, sending me staggering backward. The force is unlike anything I’ve ever felt – raw, primal magic crackling through the air.

What the fuck?

Mia’s eyes snap open, glowing with an otherworldly light. “Soren,” she whispers, but it’s not her voice. It’s the sound of the ocean, a whisper on the wind.

I try to approach her, but another wave of energy pushes me back. “Mia, what’s going on?”

She doesn’t respond immediately, but her head turns to me, those glowing eyes locking onto mine.

“Mia? Can you hear me?” I press. Suddenly, I feel a presence in my mind – Mia’s consciousness, but amplified, overwhelming. Images flash through my thoughts: glimpses of her past, her fears, her hopes. I see her sisters, feel her love for them. I experience her terror at being captured, her despair at losing her friends.

And then, just as abruptly, I’m thrust into my own memories. I relive my turning, feel the centuries spinning bt. I see Maxwell, my maker, and feel the conflicting emotions of loyalty and resentment.

Through it all, I sense Mia’s presence, observing, understanding. We’re connected in a way I never thought possible, our minds and souls laid bare to each other.

As quickly as it began, the connection breaks. Mia slumps forward, the needle slipping from her arm. I rush to catch her, cradling her unconscious form.

“Mia?” I whisper, gently shaking her. “Mia, are you alright?”

Her eyelids flutter, and she groans softly. When she opens her eyes, they’re back to their normal emerald green. She looks up at me, confusion on her face.

“What…what happened?” she mumbles.

I struggle to find the words to explain what just occurred between us. How do I tell her that for a brief moment, we shared everything – our pasts, our fears, our very essences?

“You had…an episode.”

“Episode?” She frowns. “I thought I saw—” She sucks in a breath. “You used to be an explorer,” she says with absolute certainty. “And a scholar.”

I nod, wondering what else she may have picked up while she was floating around in my mind.

Her expression darkens. “You were in my head.”

“Ditto,” I say, still reeling from what just happened. Her eyes, moments ago glowing with power, now burn with a different intensity – one of confusion and demand.

“What the hell was that?” she asks, her voice shaky but determined. “What did we just see?”

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