Caged No More Novels & Stories

“Then we fight. We fight for Emma. We fight for Mia. And we don’t stop until we destroy every threat standing in our way.” With one last glance at Mia, locked inside her glowing barrier, Aiden and Zander turned toward the battlefield, their wolves snarling to be unleashed. They would not lose their mate. Not today. Not ever.

I asked as we approached the pack borders, staring at the guards standing at the borders. “You can call me Cage,” these words escaped his lips as he was panting furiously. “Why would your parents decide to call you Cage?” “Cause I’ve caught many people that tried to take the Alpha’s life and made sure they were killed in my cage and that cage is like an underground room in my house” he divulged wearing a smile on his face as I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Who’s she?” “Alpha’s orders” He divulged, as the Alpha and his other men approached the borders.

He walked up to Ted, standing at the door. "Tell Maggie not to let Desi know that herum is back," he told him. Ted nodded and left. In his place, another guard came up to guard the door. "What about the brat?" Brad turned to Cage. "I have her imprisoned, don't worry. We will get to the bottom of this," Cage told him. "I hate seeing her hurt, Cage. I'll make sure it never happens again." "But she was awesome today, don't you think?" "I don't care. She is our mate and should be our first priority. I won't let her get hurt any longer," Brad said.

EPILOGUE JULIAN Grandmother Alice and my grandmother both held one boy and one girl while the remaining boy was being held by my husband, Xavier. The room was filled with guests as it was our children's year birthday. The babies: Finn, Leo, and Mia all had a smile on their faces as they were held behind the grand cake that was made for them. Looking around the room, I saw Abel, Director James, and a few people working in Xavier's company.

It slid open with a hiss, revealing a black cabinet built into the wall. Inside: weapons. Surveillance gear. Torture tools. And, at the center, a small velvet box. He opened it. A silver collar. Polished. Engraved on the inside in script that read: “Belongs to Liam. Always.” He stared at it for a long moment. “She cried when I first put it on her,” he murmured. “But she didn’t say no. She never does.” He touched the metal like it was holy. “They don’t know you like I do, Elizabeth. They don’t understand what you need.”

Your insights can guide me as I craft the next chapters, making them even more compelling and relatable. In writing “Caged by Him,” I aimed to explore themes of love, struggle, and resilience. Each character is a reflection of real-life complexities, and I hope their journeys inspire you as much as they inspired me while writing. The emotional highs and lows are meant to engage you, to make you feel every triumph and heartache. I believe that stories have the power to connect us, to spark conversations, and to foster understanding. I hope this book does just that.

Forever rejecting gilded cages. Forever proving that impossible transformations happen when you reject lies and choose yourself. The cage was never gold. It was me.

"What's the Cage?" "Supernatural prison. Official name's something else but everyone calls it the Cage. It's in North London, underground. Run by vampires." The older wolf's voice is matter-of-fact, like he's discussing the weather. "I've been there. Did eight months three years ago. Nearly killed me." "What's it like?" "Hell. Actual hell." The older wolf sits across from me. "The cells are lined with silver. Bars, walls, floors. Everywhere you touch burns. You can't shift. Can't access your full strength. You're just stuck there in constant pain."

The wedding took less than ten minutes. No flowers. No music. No white dress. Just a lawyer in a grey suit, a fountain pen, and the sharp smell of Dorian Vale’s cologne filling his penthouse office. The view behind him stretched over the whole city, all glass and steel, but my eyes stayed on the table between us—the contract, the marriage license, and a single black pen. “Read it if you like,” Dorian said, his voice low, almost bored. “The terms are simple.”

Eighteen minutes since I had let the only thing that made my pulse feel human walk into a cage built by a ghost. "Don Moretti, the perimeter is shifting," Cassian’s voice crackled in my earpiece, low and edged with a professional anxiety I hadn't heard in a decade. "We have movement in the derelict warehouse to the east. Six-man element, gray tacticals. They aren't Lucchesi. They’re moving with too much discipline. It’s a containment unit."