All Chapters of Cage to Cage: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

BRYNN POV The knock comes hard enough to rattle the door. Before I can answer, it swings open and Liam steps inside, crisp suit, expression already carved in irritation. “You. Kade. Vex.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “My office. Now.” He doesn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and walking out. I exchange a quick look with Kade — quiet, unreadable — and then with Vex, who looks like he already knows what this is about. Ruolan must’ve said something. The fight. The tension. The walls in this mansion have ears, and nothing stays buried for long. We follow Liam down the hall, the air thick with the weight of what’s coming. His office is immaculate — dark oak, glass walls, not a thing out of place. A reflection of the man himself. The moment the door shuts, he rounds on us. “I know I’m pushing you into this marriage, Brynn,” he starts, voice low but sharp. “Because it’s what Dad wanted. But tell me—how hard is it to pretend? To make it believable?” His eye

BRYNN POV I step out of the bedroom, and Lila is already waiting for me — composed as ever, hands folded in front of her. “We should begin getting ready for the ceremony,” she says softly, though there’s a certain weight behind it. I nod, because what else can I do? Words feel dangerous right now. She leads me into another room, brighter, larger — the kind of place designed to make everything look beautiful even when it isn’t. The dress hangs from the door, perfectly pressed, the fabric glinting faintly beneath the soft morning light. The jewelry is laid out in velvet-lined boxes, gold and diamonds that don’t belong to me but will sit against my skin like proof of ownership. My heels are lined up neatly on the rug, waiting for me to step into the role I’ve been assigned. The room hums with quiet movement — a makeup artist, a hairstylist, a nail tech, all standing ready like soldiers awaiting orders. They smile when I enter, polite and practiced, their eyes flicking toward the gow

VEX POV The moment she appears, the noise fades. The murmurs, the music, the scrape of chairs — all of it just falls away. It’s her. Every damn time, it’s her. Brynn steps into the courtyard, silver dress glinting under the morning sun, veil trailing behind like mist. The crowd turns to watch, but she doesn’t see them. Her eyes are locked somewhere past the altar — distant, determined. She looks like she’s walking into battle, not a wedding. And maybe she is. I’ve seen her covered in blood, shaking, furious — but this is worse. This quiet surrender. This stillness that doesn’t belong to her. Every instinct in me screams to stop it. To grab her hand, pull her away, and say to hell with the council, to hell with the peace, to hell with all of it. But I don’t. I stand there, still as stone, watching the woman I swore to protect walk toward me like she’s walking into her own cage. She’s breathtaking. And that’s what makes it cruel. The silver embroidery I picked catches in the

BRYNN POV The gates slam shut behind us, sealing the world out. The car jerks to a stop, and before the engine even cuts, the doors of the compound fly open. Men rush forward — armed, efficient, silent. A stretcher waits between them, wheels already locked in place. “Move!” Kade barks. They pull Vex out carefully, though there’s nothing gentle about it. His shirt is soaked through, dark red spreading across white linen. His eyes flicker open just long enough to find mine before rolling back. “Vex—” I try to follow, but Kade’s arm shoots out, stopping me. “They’ve got him,” he says, voice low but steady. I can’t breathe. I can’t stand still either. The sight of him — pale, bloodied, so still — claws at something inside me I didn’t know could hurt this much. Dr. Ward is already there, sleeves rolled, voice sharp as he rattles off orders. “Vitals, suction, keep the airway clear. Let’s move.” They wheel Vex inside, disappearing down the corridor under sterile lights. And just li

BRYNN POV The halls are quieter at night. Too quiet — the kind that lets every thought sound like footsteps. I move barefoot, slow, careful, the hem of Dr. Ward’s borrowed shirt brushing my thighs. The floor’s cold under my feet. Every few steps I glance toward the door two rooms down — the one they said was his. Vex. There’s a guard posted halfway down the hall, but he’s slouched in his chair, phone in hand, attention elsewhere. I wait for the low hum of a message tone before slipping past the open doorway and pressing my back to the wall. My pulse doesn’t quiet until I’m inside. The room smells faintly of antiseptic and smoke — him, even beneath the sterile air. The light over his bed glows dim, catching on the stitches along his shoulder, the bruises crawling down his ribs. He looks wrong like this. Still. Human. For a long moment I just stand there, the sound of his breathing steady and rough. Then I move closer. My fingers find his hair first, pushing a stray lock from hi