Chapter 3: The Cage

POV RUBY

The air inside the cabin was cold and stale, with a smell of damp wood and neglect. Nevan didn't bother to offer me his hand when I got out of the car. He just looked at me, a silent command in his icy eyes. I obeyed, my muscles still tense from the confrontation in the car. I felt like a newly captured animal, disoriented and defensive.

The interior was spartan, a single large room that served as a living room, kitchen, and bedroom. In one corner was a single bed with a thin mattress; in the other, a wood-burning stove that looked like something out of a horror story. The windows were covered by heavy curtains of dark fabric, making the cabin feel like a box sealed off from the outside world.

"Sit down," Nevan said, pointing to a rustic wooden chair next to the stove. His voice brooked no argument.

I didn't move. I stood in the center of the room, my eyes scanning every corner, looking for an exit, a weakness. Were there cameras here too? Would they see me break down?

"Is this a joke?" I asked, trying to sound defiant, even though my voice was trembling slightly. Are we going to live here? Locked up?

Nevan left the car key on a small table by the door. He didn't hide it. He left it in plain sight, like a mockery, knowing I couldn't reach it.

"This, Ruby, is a refuge," he said, ignoring my question. "A place where people don't ask questions. And don't go out for walks."

He walked over to the wood stove and expertly lit a fire. The flames began to dance, casting orange shadows that made his figure seem even more imposing, like an ancient fire god. The heat began to spread slowly, but it wasn't enough to dispel the chill I felt in my bones.

When the fire crackled loudly, Nevan turned to look at me. There was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, the same gleam I had seen in the car.

"Now, the rules," he said, taking a step toward me. I took a step back, bumping into the cold surface of the refrigerator. "And they're not suggestions. They're orders."

His hand rose, not to touch me, but to point to the nearest curtain. "One: The curtains are never touched. Do you hear me? Not even a crack. Light is a signal. A signal that there's something to find here.

I nodded, my eyes fixed on his mouth.

"Two: The door is sacred. It is not opened without my permission, not even a crack. It has an alarm. You activate it, and I assume the house is under attack. And in the dark, Ruby, I don't stop to check if the target is friend or foe.

"You'd shoot me," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper.

Her eyes, cold as steel, didn't blink. "I'd shoot anything that moved where it shouldn't. Three: You will ask no questions about the past. Not my past, not yours, not your father's. The less you know, the less you have to lie when they find you.

"When they find you?" I corrected, trembling. "You said you would keep me safe."

"I said it was your only option. In my world, there are no guarantees." Suddenly, his tone changed. He moved closer to me, his fingers brushing my cheek with unexpected lightness. My skin prickled. "You're cold. Those clothes won't last."

My cheeks flushed. I didn't know if it was from the heat of the fire or his touch. He looked away toward the bed and then at a small canvas bag on it.

"There are clothes in that bag. Put them on. I'll take care of this.

He turned and walked over to the rustic sink in the corner. He took a cloth, wet it, and used it to clean the dirt and blood from his hands from the dead rabbit he had brought with him for dinner. I had seen it in the back seat. My stomach churned, but I also felt a twinge of admiration. This man was a predator. A born survivor.

I approached the bed. The bag contained a gray cotton T-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and clean underwear, all surprisingly soft to the touch. It also smelled like him, that scent of tobacco and cold air that was beginning to burn itself into my memory in an unsettling way.

I undressed with my back to Nevan, feeling his eyes on me even without seeing him. The silk dress fell to the floor in a sad heap, a relic of the life I had lost. As I put on his T-shirt, I felt its warmth, its scent enveloping me. It was ridiculously oversized, covering me down to my thighs, but it was warm and comforting.

As I dressed, Nevan moved around the cabin with the precision of a hawk. He placed radios in the corners, checked the windows, tested the door mechanism. Then he sat down on a wooden box by the fire, took out his pistol, and began cleaning it with a cloth. The metallic click-click of the gun was the only sound in the room.

"I need to use the bathroom," I said, my voice hoarse, feeling an urgent need to escape his gaze.

"The sink works. Don't waste the water. There's a bucket behind the bathroom curtain," he growled without looking at me, focused on his gun.

I went to the tiny bathroom. It was barely a cubbyhole with a tiny toilet and sink. I washed my hands, the cold water stinging my skin. I felt like a caged bird, in a cage designed by a man who didn't believe in mercy. I looked up, searching for a mirror to see my face, but there wasn't one. Instead, my eyes fell on something strange.

Just above the sink, in the corner where the wall met the ceiling, there was a small dark knot in the wood. It seemed out of place, too perfectly circular to be a natural defect. I moved closer, my heart racing.

I reached out, my fingers brushing the dry wood. It wasn't wood. It was cold glass. A small lens the size of a pin was embedded in the cedar, perfectly angled to see the bed and the rest of the room. There was no doubt.

My blood ran cold. A chill of a different kind, colder and more terrifying, ran down my spine. Nevan hadn't just captured me; he was watching me in my privacy, even here.

"Nevan?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

"I told you not to ask questions, Ruby," he said from the shadows. I heard the slow, deliberate movement of his body as he rose from the box.

I turned, pointing to the corner of the ceiling with my hand. "You said this was a refuge. You said I would be safe here."

"You're safe from Vane," he said, approaching the fire. He didn't seem surprised. Or guilty. He seemed like a man who had anticipated this moment.

"Then what is that?" I shouted, my hand trembling as I pointed at the hidden lens. "Who is watching us?"

Nevan took a slow step toward me, his blue eyes turning flinty. He stopped a foot away from me, the temperature in the room rising with his proximity.

"The people who paid for this cabin, Ruby," he whispered, his voice laden with silent menace. "And believe me, you'd rather they be watching you through a screen than standing in this room right now."

He reached out and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. His thumb brushed my lower lip, sending a strange jolt through my body.

"Now," he whispered, his eyes locked on mine, a dark promise shining in them. "Are you going to be a good girl and follow the rules, or will I have to remind you why they call me cruel?"

Outside, the wind howled, but the real monster was inside the house with me. And he was the only one who had the key to my cage.