Chapter 9: A Cage of Ice

LIRA

The cabin was small, but sturdy. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows along the wooden walls.

There was only one door.

And Caius stood in front of it.

“You’re not going to keep me locked up forever,” I said, crossing my arms.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. “You’re not a prisoner.”

I snorted. “Right. Because abducting someone and dragging them to the middle of nowhere definitely doesn’t count as imprisonment.”

Caius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You wouldn’t be safe in Duskborne.”

“Oh? And I’m supposed to believe I’m safer with you?”

His silver eyes darkened. “Yes.”

A tense silence stretched between us.

I hated how calm he was. How unshaken.

And worse—how my heart stuttered every time his gaze locked onto mine.

I should be terrified of him.

Instead, my body reacted like a live wire, every nerve aware of the space between us.

I turned away, pacing near the fire. “Why me?”

“Because you’re mine.”

A chill raced down my spine. The words hit me like a slap, sharp and unexpected. And though they made me want to recoil, they also made something twist in my chest. Something deep and primal.

I shook my head, refusing to let him get inside my mind. “I don’t belong to you,” I spat out, my voice shaking with fury. There was no way I would let him claim me, no way I would let him think he had any say in my life.

He didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on me, like he was studying me, trying to figure me out. The silence stretched between us again, heavy and thick with unsaid words.

But then, after what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke. “No,” he admitted, his voice softer now, almost contemplative. “But the bond does.”

My fists clenched at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. The bond.

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I knew enough. I could feel it too. That pull. That invisible thread that tied us together, that I couldn’t escape, no matter how hard I tried. It gnawed at me, twisted inside me like a living thing.

I turned away, pacing again, this time feeling the heat of my anger rise in my chest. “You think some invisible thread means you own me?” I said, my voice low and dangerous. The words tasted bitter, but I had to say them. I had to push back.

Caius pushed off the wall, his movement slow and deliberate. He didn’t walk toward me, but instead, he closed the distance between us. He was close enough now that I could feel the heat of his body, the electricity in the air.

I could feel the weight of him pressing down on me, and it made my breath catch in my throat.

The air between us crackled with tension, and I knew—knew—that he was right. No matter how much I fought it, I couldn’t ignore the pull. I couldn’t ignore the way my body responded to his, the way it hummed with energy every time he came near.

His voice was barely a whisper, but it sent a shiver down my spine. “It means,” he said, his words measured, “that no matter how much you fight it… you feel it too.”

Damn him.

Damn him for being right.

But I refused to give him the satisfaction. I wouldn’t let him win. I wouldn’t let him think he had me—mind and body—just because of some bond that I didn’t understand.

I lifted my chin, looking him straight in the eyes. “I’ll never be your obedient little mate,” I said, the words fierce and final.

Caius didn’t move for a moment. His lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. The kind that made my heart race even as my mind screamed at me to not let him have this power over me.

“Good,” he said softly, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel. “I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

And then, just as quickly as the tension had risen between us, he stepped back. It was like a switch had been flipped, and the air in the room became lighter, less oppressive.

“Get some rest,” he said, his tone commanding once again. “We leave at first light.”

I scowled, not even bothering to hide the frustration on my face. “And where exactly are you taking me?” I demanded, crossing my arms, my stance defiant.

His gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing just slightly. “Home.”

My breath hitched. I knew what that word meant—what it had to mean—but the idea of going there, of being forced to follow him, made my heart clench. There was so much more to this. So much more to what was happening than either of us were willing to admit.

But there was no point in asking him for answers. He wouldn’t give me any. Not yet.

Instead, I just turned away, trying to steady my breathing, to calm my racing heart.

Tomorrow, I would leave this cabin. Tomorrow, I would be on the road with him again, dragged further into his world. And there was nothing I could do about it.