Page 51 of Blood Caged

Part of me wants to cling to my anger, to remember that I’m a prisoner here. But another part…another part is drawn to Soren’s kindness, craving more of those gentle touches and soft words.

I flop back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. This is dangerous territory. I can’t allow myself to start feeling anything other than hatred for my captors.

But as I close my eyes, all I can see is Soren’s face, his blue eyes filled with concern. And I can’t shake the feeling that things are about to get very, very complicated.

18

Chapter 18

Soren

I’m halfway through reviewingthe latest security reports when my phone buzzes. Maxwell’s name flashes on the screen. I answer immediately.

“Soren, I need to see you. Now.” Maxwell’s voice crackles with tension.

“Of course,” I respond without hesitation. “I’ll be there shortly.”

As I prepare to leave, I can’t shake the uneasy feeling settling in my gut. It’s been two weeks since I implemented the changes at the facility, and things have fallen into an almost comfortable rhythm. Too comfortable, perhaps. I need to stay vigilant.

I grab my jacket, my mind drifting to Mia. I’ve been careful to treat her with respect, but I keep catching myself slipping intobehavior that’s almost…friendly. It’s a problem. And entirely out of character for me.

I’ve never been approachable. Aloof, cold, efficient – these are the traits that have served me well over the centuries. But something about Mia keeps chipping away at my carefully constructed walls.

As I head out, I remind myself of the stakes involved. Whatever Maxwell wants, I can’t afford to let my guard down. Not with Mia, not with anyone.

As I approach the grand entrance to Maxwell’s estate, memories of countless visits over the centuries flood my mind. This place has been a sanctuary, a home away from home. But today, an undercurrent of unease taints it. It’s been like that since Lucien Marlowe came into the picture.

The heavy oak door swings open, revealing Maxwell’s human servant. “Lord Daire,” he intones, bowing slightly. “Master Kern is expecting you in the study.”

I nod curtly and stride past him. As I near the study, voices drift through the partially open door. One is unmistakably Maxwell’s, but the other… My jaw clenches as I recognize the smug tones.

Fucking Moonshadow.

I pause, taking a moment to compose myself. Whatever game is being played here, I refuse to show my hand too early.

Pushing the door open, I step inside. Maxwell looks up from behind his massive mahogany desk, his silver eyes unreadable. And there, lounging in one of the leather armchairs as if he belongs, is Heath.

What the fuck is he doing here?

The witch’s lips curl into a sly smile. “Ah, Soren. How kind of you to join us.”

I ignore him, focusing on Maxwell. “You wanted to see me?”

Maxwell nods, gesturing to the empty chair beside Heath. “Have a seat, Soren. We have much to discuss.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself as I settle into the chair. Maxwell’s gaze is unflinching, and I can feel Heath’s smug satisfaction radiating from beside me. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence.

“I’d like a report on your work at the facility,” Maxwell says. “I believe you’ve made some changes.”

I nod. “I’ve implemented several upgrades to some of the protocols,” I begin, my voice steady. “We’ve improved living conditions for the witches and adjusted the blood extraction schedule. Despite these modifications, I’m pleased to report that our blood quotas have remained consistent.”

I continue, detailing the specifics of our new protocols. “The witches are now allowed supervised time outdoors, which has had a positive impact on their overall health. This, in turn, has improved the quality of the blood we’re harvesting.”

As I speak, I can see Maxwell’s expression shifting, a mix of surprise and curiosity. But before he can respond, Heath’s voice cuts in.

“With all due respect,” he sneers, “I’ve observed quite a different situation.”

I clench my jaw, turning to face him. “Is that so?”

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