The Cage: 1. The Bars Between Us

The first thing she noticed was the sound. A steady drip, drip, drip somewhere in the dark. Water on stone. Her head pounded, and when she tried to move, the weight of iron bit into her ankles. She gasped, her hands shooting down to feel the cold bite of shackles.

Not a nightmare. Not a dream.

She was inside a cage.

The room was bare—concrete floor, iron bars enclosing one side, a bed pressed against the far wall with a single blanket. A low light hummed overhead, the only thing separating her from absolute darkness. The air was damp, metallic.

Panic surged hot in her throat. She stumbled forward, the chain tugging her back. “Hello?” Her voice cracked. “Is someone there?”

And then she heard it. The sound of a chair scraping across the floor.

He was there.

A shadow moved, pulling into the dim light. He sat just outside the cage, casual, as though this was his living room and she was an inconvenient guest. A man—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed