Chapter 6:
The Cage
Ethan
I stared at Enzo, his question hanging in the air like a bad smell. Why don't you love me?
Was he serious? Did he actually think he was some kind of hero? My kidnapper, my jailer—acting like I owed him my heart? Rage burned through me, hotter than the fear. I shoved his hand off my chin and stumbled back on the bed, my voice shaking but loud.
"Love you? I don't even know you! You think locking me in this room makes me want to kiss you? Screw you!"
His eyes darkened, a mix of anger and something softer—hurt, maybe. It made no sense. He stepped closer, his voice low and rough.
"You think this is about your mom's debt? About money? Look around, Ethan. This isn't some crack house. You're here because you're mine. You don't get to walk away."
I backed up until my spine hit the headboard. "Yours? I'm not your damn pet! Why me? Why not take my mom instead? She's the one who owed you! Just let me go!"
Enzo's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "Your mom? That strung-out woman? She's nothing. You—" He stopped, his eyes burning into me. "You're everything. You feel it, don't you? That pull. You can't run from it."
"Feel what?" I shouted, tears stinging my eyes. "All I feel is scared! I just want to go home! I won't tell anyone about this—your men, this place, nothing! Please, just let me go!"
He took another step, closing the distance between us. My heartbeat thundered so hard I thought my ribs would crack.
"Home?" he growled, his voice dropping into something low and dangerous. "This is your home now, Ethan. You think this is a game? You think you can just walk out? You're not going anywhere."
I shook my head, fury rising past the fear. "You're insane! This will never be my home! I'll never stay here!"
He reached for me, his fingers brushing my arm. Without thinking, I swung—hard. My fist slammed right into his groin.
He doubled over with a grunt, his face twisting in pain. "Fuck!"
I bolted for the door, my heart hammering, my legs pumping. Freedom was just a few steps away—until his hand shot out and caught my wrist like steel. He yanked me back, spinning me until my back hit his chest. His breath brushed my ear, a low whisper that made my stomach twist.
"Where are you going, little mate?"
"Let me go!" I thrashed, kicking at his legs, but he was stronger—too strong. His arms wrapped tight around me, holding me in place. Then he leaned in, his nose brushing my neck. I froze when I realized what he was doing.
"Did you just—did you sniff me?" I spat, disbelief flooding my voice.
He chuckled, dark and low, his grip still firm. "You smell good."
Before I could process what that even meant, he pushed me onto the bed. My back hit the mattress hard, and in one quick move, he grabbed my wrists and snapped cold metal around them. Handcuffs. I yanked hard, the chain rattling against the headboard.
"Let me go!" I screamed, kicking helplessly. "You psycho! Get these off!"
Enzo straightened, wiping his mouth, that cruel smirk crawling back onto his face. "You'll learn, Ethan. One way or another."
He turned and walked out, the door slamming shut behind him.
I pulled at the cuffs until my wrists burned, but they didn't budge. Tears filled my eyes, hot and useless. I sank back against the pillow, my chest heaving. How long had it been—an hour? Two? The room was silent except for my breathing.
It looked beautiful—silk sheets, big windows—but it was still a cage. I'd been sold like property. By my own mother. Locked up by two men who called me mate. What did that even mean?
The door creaked open. I flinched, curling up as much as the cuffs allowed.
It was the other one—Dean. His dark eyes scanned me quietly, softer than Enzo's but still dangerous. He stepped inside and shut the door with a soft click.
"Easy, kid," he said, his tone calm, almost gentle. He crouched beside the bed, pulling a key from his pocket. A moment later, the cuffs clicked open. I yanked my hands free and rubbed my sore wrists.
I didn't speak. Couldn't. My throat was dry, and fear sat heavy in my chest as he watched me. Dean sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, close but not touching.
"Look, Ethan," he said softly. "I'm sorry about Enzo. He's… intense. Always been like that. Doesn't know how to hold back."
I stared at him, my heart still racing. "Intense? He handcuffed me to a bed! You're all crazy!"
Dean's lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh. "Yeah, he's got a temper. But he won't hurt you. Neither will I. You're safe here."
"Safe?" I let out a bitter laugh. "You kidnapped me! My mom sold me to you! How is that safe?"
He leaned a little closer, his eyes locking on mine. "You don't understand yet, but you will. You're not just some debt payment. You're… special. To us."
"Stop saying that!" I snapped, scooting back against the headboard. "What does that even mean? Special? Mate? You sound like a damn cult!"
He chuckled again, low and warm, like I'd just told a joke. "Not a cult. Just different. You'll understand soon. But right now, you're a mess. Blood, bruises, sweat. Let me take you to the bathroom. You need to clean up."
I froze, my eyes wide. "Bath? With you? No way."
Dean stood, towering over me, but his voice stayed calm. "Not with me, kid. By yourself. I'll just help you get there. You can barely stand."
"I'm fine," I lied, my voice trembling. I swung my legs off the bed and tried to stand—big mistake. My knees gave out almost instantly. The room spun, and before I could hit the floor, Dean's arms were around me.
He caught me easily, one arm around my waist, the other steadying my shoulder. My chest pressed against his, and his scent filled my head—strange, warm, and oddly familiar. His eyes met mine, deep and dark, and for a second, I couldn't breathe.
Not from fear.
Something else.