Page 3 of Cage Me

Every waking hour he plotted and planned, trained his human body to fight and survive, all so he could rescue her from the pits of hell.

He had a strategy to get a guide to hell. Once he got down there he’d have to survive without his dragon in a realm filled with demons, demon dragons, the Black Dragon, and no possibility of sunshine, to recharge him, ever.

None of the dangers mattered, not if they meant he could rescue Azynsa and lift whatever spell was keeping his Wyr from finding their mates.

Cage headed to the main house and stretched out while crossing the garden, basking in the direct rays of the sun. He really ought to live on a beach somewhere, but Denmark and the Seven Pines estate had been the gold wyr seat for longer than he could remember. Besides, a big chunk of his treasure hoard was here. It would be a giant pain to move, and how did one hide billions of dollars of gold, art, gold, jewels, and more gold in the sand?

He got plenty of sunshine here and when the skies were gray and cloudy all he had to do was fly above them to refill his energy.

Except he couldn’t do that anymore.

He couldn't live without the sun and not just because he needed to work on his tan. Which meant hell…would be hell.

He was going there anyway.

He’d already decided not to ask Jakob or Ky to join this battle. It wasn't fair to them or their new mates to ask them to put themselves at risk again. Match was the perfect choice to go with, that bastard loved the dark and heat of a volcano. But, he was still recovering from a dagger to the heart, poisoned with something that had almost killed him.

He’d be grumpy the whole time anyway. He was always grumpy.

Time to get creative.

Actually, he already had.

He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun, for one more minute of its energy. He had a feeling he would need all he could get.

When he got back to the house, two of his gold warriors were standing guard at the entrance to his office.

Behind the closed doors someone swore like a sailor who was raised by swearing sailors.

He'd always had a thing for filthy mouths.

“You two can go, I don't think you need to hear this.”

They nodded and saluted, and then stood there like statues. They weren't going anywhere. None of his guard had let him alone for a month. Either that or the succubus allure had them constrained.

He scowled at them and they didn't even flinch.

Fine, it was their dicks.

He pushed through the door and it took his eyes a minute to adjust to the dark room. All of the curtains had been drawn and the lights were off.

“Don't you come a fucking step closer to me, Cage. I have no intention of dying today.”

Cage found his little thief stuffed into the corner of the room, hiding behind his desk. She had a letter opener in her hand, ready to use like a knife. There was a lot of bravado in her words, but the tremor behind them betrayed her fear.

She should be afraid.

“Hello, Portia. Stole any other souls lately?”

He knew full well she hadn’t done anything besides run for the past few weeks. She’d been excommunicated from every demon coven in the world. She had to be scared, lonely, and hungry. Exactly how he wanted her.

“Screw you, you gave it to me.”

That tough exterior had been what attracted him to her in the first place. That and her allure. Which she wasn’t using now. Interesting. Cage’s eyes adjusted to the dark and he sauntered toward Portia. “We've already done the screwing park, my dear.”

She held the letter open at the ready, and she knew how to yield it too. Leonard had taught her to fight. It was probably the only reason she was still alive. Succubae did not do well on their own.

“I'm not apologizing for all that. I did what I thought I had to do.”

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