Page 67 of Blood Caged

“I’m so sorry, Sabine…Jemma…” I fight back tears when I think back to how powerless I’d been.

I scan the room, my heart still racing from the rough treatment. Soren’s quarters are just as I remember – cold, impersonal, devoid of any warmth. The stark white walls, the minimalist furniture, it’s all so… him. Clinical. Detached. The way he was when we first met. The way he truly is.

A familiar scent hits me – that cool, woodsy scent I’ve come to associate with him. My stomach twists, a confusing mix of revulsion and unwanted comfort washing over me. How dare his scent make me feel anything but disgust?

I pace the length of the room; aside from the books, there are no photos, no personal items. Nothing to hint at the man behind the monster.

“Stop it, Mia,” I mutter to myself, clenching my fists. “He’s not a man. He’s a cold-blooded killer.”

The image of Sabine and Jemma’s terrified faces flashes through my mind. Their screams echo in my ears as Soren dragged them away. I sink to the floor, my legs unable to support me any longer.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper again, hot tears streaming down my cheeks. “I should have protected you. This is all my fault.”

Grief threatens to overwhelm me, but anger quickly follows. How could I have been so blind? I let myself believe Soren was different, that he had some shred of humanity left in him. Now, Sabine and Jemma have paid the price for my naivety.

I push myself to my feet, rage burning through my veins. “I’ll make you pay for this, Soren,” I snarl, my voice barely recognizable. “I swear it.”

As if on cue, the door swings open.

Soren steps into the room, his face a blank canvas, betraying nothing. My heart leaps into my throat, a confusing mix of feelings surging through me.

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the world falls away. The intensity of his gaze threatens to overwhelm me. I see hints of emotion there – regret? Pain? Or am I just projecting what I want to see?

“Mia,” he says softly, his voice sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

I clench my fists, willing myself to stay strong. “Don’t,” I spit out. “Don’t you dare act like nothing’s happened.”

Soren takes a step closer, and I instinctively back away. “Mia, please. Let me explain—”

“Explain?” I laugh bitterly. “Explain what? How you murdered my friends in cold blood? How everything you’ve said, everything you’ve done, has been a lie?”

“It’s not what you think,” he starts, but I cut him off.

“I don’t care what I think!” I shout, my voice breaking. “I care about what you did. Sabine and Jemma are dead because of you!”

Soren flinches as if I’ve struck him. “Mia, you need to listen to me. Things aren’t—”

“No!” I interrupt again, my anger boiling over. “I’m done listening to you. I’m done believing your lies. You’re a monster, Soren. Just like the rest of them.”

He takes another step toward me, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Please, just give me a chance to—”

“Stay away from me!” I scream, backing up until I hit the wall. “Don’t come any closer!”

Soren freezes, conflict clear in his eyes. For a moment, we stand there, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife.

Finally, I can’t hold back anymore. The rage that’s been simmering inside me explodes, and words pour out of me like lava.

“You’re a murderer!” I scream, my voice raw with grief and fury. “A cold-blooded killer! How could you do it? They were innocent! They just wanted to be free!”

Soren’s face contorts with what looks like pain, but I refuse to believe it’s genuine. He’s fooled me before with his act of compassion.

“I trusted you,” I spit out, my words dripping with venom. “I actually thought you were different. But you’re worse than all of them. At least they don’t pretend to care!”

My hands clench into fists at my sides, shaking with the force of my anger. “You’re a monster, Soren. A soulless, heartless monster. And I hate you. I HATE YOU!”

The last shred of my control snaps. With a feral cry, I launch myself at him. My fists connect with his chest, pounding againsthim with all the strength I can muster. I know it’s futile – he’s a vampire, and I’m just a weakened witch – but I don’t care.

I scratch at his face, my nails leaving red trails across his pale skin. “How dare you!” I shriek, punctuating each word with another blow. “How dare you pretend to be kind! To be human!”

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