Page 60 of Caged

And my life depends on her.

I turn in the direction of Ryle. I have to hope the tiny settlement might have access to a healer, even if it’s via comm.

As it’s early, there are few people about as I land in the main square. One Tref stallholder is filling up with his wares.

“I need a healer,” I growl at him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him to me.

His eyes widen. I’m at least a head taller than him, and his wiry form is nothing compared to mine.

“My mate is sick. She has been stung by something in the forest,” I add with a snarl. “I need help.”

All three of his eyes go black and his bottom lip trembles.

“If you can’t help, then you are no use to me,” I bellow, turning away.

“Wait, Sylas,” his soft voice calls after me. The sound of my name from him halts my progress. “Let me get the healer for your mate.”

I spin to face him, holding Alex pressed tightly to me.

“There is a healer here?”

“Of course.” The Tref spreads his hands, as if it’s something I should know. “Come with me.”

I don’t want to go with him. I want…I don’t know what I want. So instead, my feet move, and I follow his long, thin form as he walks down the main road. Alex is hot in my arms, and every step doesn’t seem to take me closer to getting her back.

I wish she was here to calm me. I need her voice in my ear, her fingers in my feathers.

I need her.

But all I have is her silent form and what’s worse is her heat is diminishing.

“Where is this vrexing healer?” I snarl at the Tref.

“I am here, Gryn.” A female Tref steps from a nearby dwelling. “Is this his mate?” she asks the Tref stallholder.

“This is Alex,” he says, and I don’t know which one I want to kill first, the healer for not healing Alex or the Tref for daring to say her name. “She’s been stung by something in the forest,” he says, giving me a short bow and actually ducking his head so he can’t see me or what I might do to him.

“Did it have long black tentacles?” the healer asks me. “Come on, Gryn, tell me!” she adds when I don’t immediately respond.

“Brown and green, with a barb at the end,” I stumble in desperation. “She is dying…” I dredge up the words I need but find them in my mouth already. “Please…please help my mate,” I beg.

ALEX

Everything hurts. Everything. Even my hair.

I do not want to open my eyes, but the soft scent of cinnamon makes me. I crack one. It’s crusty, and it’s painful to move my eyeball.

Sylas is curled next to me, his head pillowed on his hands, almost like he is praying. Although in Sylas’ case, more likeprey-ing. He has a wing over me, the feathers warming and soft in a way which belies the strength within. It’s like they’re a complete opposite of him.

My bad, sweet, vicious Sylas.

He looks like he hasn’t slept in eons, and the last thing I want to do is wake him, only I don’t understand what’s going on.

“Hey,” I croak. It sounds like my voice hasn’t been used for a long time.

His eyes fly open, the wing flailing back, as if he’s never seen me before. It’s only now I see we’re not home.

We’re somewhere else entirely. Somewhere which looks suspiciously like a cell, given the lack of furniture and window.

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