Cade (26 page)

He seemed to calm as Gemma put her arms around him and held on. Her eyes locked with her brother’s, as if trying to ground him. Cade had seen these episodes often and knew that Stephen hadn’t been talking about a simple gut feeling he’d had about knowing Gemma was here. He had been witness to hundreds of times when Stephen had just seemed to
know
things—from beforehand—without a clue as to why. It scared the hell out of Cade—and seemed to totally fuck Stephen up. 

His breathing was deep, but then he turned to Cade. “I was meant to take Phoenix ... practise our shift together.”

“You still can,” Cade said to him.

“I can't,” he said, shaking his head. “I was doing it for you. I was shifting with him for
you
, Cade. Because you are meant to be my friend. And
this
is what you do to me.”

Gemma wrapped her arms tightly around her brother’s waist, resting her cheek against his chest. Stephen’s arms came around her, and he bent his head to press his lips to the top of her hair. His eyes stared down at Cade as he held her.

“I can't lose either of you. I can't. If they find out, they’ll execute you.”

“It wasn’t to hurt you,” Gemma murmured. “We’re here.”

He took a deep breath, then extricated Gemma’s arms from around his middle, pushing her away. He shot one last angry glance at Cade and stalked off the way they had come.

“Go to him, Gemma,” Cade rasped as he pushed himself up, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Go after him.”

“I’m sorry,” she said before turning to run after her brother.

Cade stared at her retreating form, his heart heavy with so many mixed emotions.

“I'm not sorry at all,” he whispered.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The cage. It really was as the name suggested—a cage. A six by six foot confinement of fear, pain and degradation, something to be feared by
Others
. Something to be used to tame even the wildest of creatures, and if that didn’t work, well, then it was execution or exile—but then exile was almost as good as execution … it was just slower. Exiled
Others
never made it very far, kind of like the half-breeds. Hunted by
Humans
, hated by
Others
. A thing that no one wanted to be because the survival rate of them was pretty slim. It was the terminal illness of one cast from society.

The cage wasn’t much better, but at least it didn’t mean death—not always at least. Not if one was strong enough to survive. But some weren’t—they didn’t make it past the first stage. There was a collection of six cages that the Society used, all lined up in a purpose built room that was underground. What appeared to be a harmless shed at the bottom of the garden was the doorway to, what anyone who had been there called, hell. It was made for the sole purpose of punishing
Others
. Each cage was made of silver—the only thing that could weaken and even kill
Others
. Silver bars ran deep into the ground, securing them in place so that there was no means of escape. The only part that was not made of silver was the floor. That was solid, hard, cold concrete.

The pull of the silver was draining for even those standing too close—much like the kryptonite of
weres
. Anyone other than a shifter to hold the bars would say they were stone cold—but to
Others
, they seemed to burn.

Cade stood in front of one of them now, unease and dread roiling in his gut about being locked in there for the whole night. To make matters worse, tonight was Phoenix’s run, and Cade wouldn’t be with him. It was his first run and he’d be by himself. Cade tried to push his concern from his mind, telling himself that Stephen would be with him, so there was nothing to be worried about—and worrying wasn’t going to do shit about it anyway. Whatever happened, Cade would just have to trust Stephen to take care of the boy while he was locked this underground prison … where no one could hear him. Like the meeting room in the house, once those doors closed, this room was silent and secret. It really was a place in which to put people and then just forget about them—and they did.

Gemma stood a few feet away, in front of her own cage, and Cade fought the urge to just turn and feast his eyes on her. This was the first time in nearly a week that Cade had seen her—since their night together. Cade He had run out of excuses to call the house, hoping each time that it would be Gemma who answered. But it was always Stephen, and Cade was pretty sure he was monitoring all incoming, and outgoing, calls. It was the only reason he could think of as to why Gemma hadn’t tried calling him at all. “Why do you need to talk to Gemma,” Stephen had asked him coldly, but any reasoning Cade had tried to do with him had met an impasse. “I’m saving your lives,” Stephen had stated flatly before telling him not to call again and hanging up on him. Cade had made the decision to let some time pass before he actually went to the house in an attempt to see her—let Stephen’s temper cool. There was no telling what would happen if he showed up demanding to see Gemma and came into conflict with Stephen again. This time he’d not back down, and this time, he’d fight back. But arousing the head of the Society’s suspicions, and putting Gemma in any kind of risk or getting her into any sort of trouble, was the last thing he’d ever do.

He longed to reach out now and take her hand in his. Even more, he longed to push her out of this god damn room and take the two-day sentence and save her this night. God knows why she had spoken up and dropped herself in it this way. Gemma didn’t even spare him a glance as they stood side by side, waiting to be pushed into their cages. For a week, every time he had heard a car, his heart had leapt with the hope that it was her. He tried to tell himself to stop, because the disappointment from it each time was just too great. At night, the hours ticked by so slowly, memories of Gemma in his bed keeping him awake and frustrated. He would bury his face in the pillow she had slept on and take her scent in. He couldn’t stand the separation, not now that he had had a taste of what it was he was craving. It had just intensified the hunger within him and the pleading of his
wolf
. 

She was avoiding his gaze now, her eyes bloodshot and rimmed red with dark circles under them. It looked like she had been struggling to sleep just as much as he had, and though it saddened him that she was suffering, he couldn’t help the feeling of satisfaction to see the evidence that she wasn’t doing well in his absence, either.

Stephen was nowhere to be seen this morning, but Cade knew he would come. It was the job of the upcoming alpha to close the gates on them. Malcolm was in the corner filling in paperwork, but his discomfort around all this silver was evident—he stood as far back as possible from the cage, sighing heavily as beads of sweat formed on his brow. Even the alpha wasn’t immune to the pull of the silver. “I’m going to do these upstairs,” he mumbled and piled up the file and papers.

Once Malcolm had left the room, Cade reached out to brush his hand against Gemma’s. She didn’t move her hand away, but she didn’t respond to his touch, either. She was sullen today—even her clothes seemed to match the mood that she was giving out. Rather than her summery clothes, she wore a t-shirt and sweat pants. Even when sick, Gemma would take care with her appearance. It didn’t matter to Cade what she wore, though. She always looked beautiful to him no matter what. His heart grew heavier with each passing minute that she didn’t reach for his hand, the need for some kind of response from her clawing at him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, starting to think that maybe she regretted what had happened between them. Maybe he had been wrong to touch her a week ago. It hadn’t felt wrong, though—it felt like they were meant for each other. A warmth settled inside him when she was around. He couldn’t explain it, but he could feel it deep down in his soul, right to the core of him. Gemma felt like home.

Her hand moved. Cade held his breath as she slid her fingers in between his, and relief surged through him. He curled his fingers around hers and ran his thumb lightly along her knuckles. She said nothing, still refused to look at him, but her hand in his was all the reassurance he needed from her. They stood there in silence, and Cade drew strength from the simple touch of her hand in his.

Malcolm’s muffled voice carried down the stairs, though Cade could barely discern it. The door was open, but the room dulled their senses and made it difficult to hear anything or distinguish whom he was talking to. The steps creaked as somebody started to descend, and Gemma snatched her hand from Cade’s. She glanced at him, their eyes locking for one fleeting moment, and in that moment, Cade saw right through her—he saw the need and love, the fear, and dread, the desperation. His heart twisted painfully in his chest, wanting so desperately to push her out of the room so that she wouldn’t go through any of this. He wanted to plead with Malcolm to spare her, but to do that would be to disrespect her and Malcolm and his orders. The alpha would then be in his rights to sentence Cade to longer, and so much as Cade didn’t care about that if it freed Gemma from this torture, he had to think about Phoenix now, too. He was already letting him down now, and the boy needed and depended on him.

Trevor came down with Malcolm and Stephen, and Cade struggled to knock back his surprise at seeing his father there—he wasn’t one to come to the cages. Malcolm and Trevor stopped at the foot of the stairs and came no closer. It was Stephen who came in, his face a mask of solemnity. He pulled on protective gloves to shield his hands from the burn of the silver, but Cade caught the slight tremble in his hands as he did so—no one was immune to the presence of the silver.

“You both understand why it is that you are here today?” Malcolm began. “As your alpha, it is my duty to uphold the laws set down for everyone who looks to us for leadership, morals and the knowledge of right and wrong.” He paused. “As your father, it pains me to be forced to do this. But it would be unfair that my own child would be spared this fate when doing something wrong.”

Gemma nodded at her father, her breathing shaky. Cade didn’t blame Malcolm for any of this. What kind of leader would he be if he were lenient on them because of blood ties? It would show weakness. But that didn’t stop Cade from hating Malcolm for what he was about to do to Gemma, or from hating himself for what his actions had caused.

Malcolm checked his wristwatch. “It is now eight thirty.” He nodded to Trevor. “Make note that the clock starts ticking now and that they will both be released at eight thirty tomorrow morning.” He glanced back at Gemma and Cade. “Is that clear?”

They both gave a nod, but neither of them looked at him. Stephen stepped forward with the keys, which were also made of silver, in another attempt to stop
Others
escaping should they get hold of them. His black gloves were secured with straps at his wrists, offering his hands total protection from the cage. He said nothing as he stood there, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the weakening force of the silver. Stephen opened the first cage and the gate swung back silently. All eyes were trained on Cade now—all except for Gemma’s. She kept her gaze firmly set on the floor, as if the sight of Cade entering the cage was too much for her to bear.

“Shoes and belt,” Stephen said to him, holding out his hands. Cade hesitated, then slipped his shoes off and kicked them out of the way. He slid his belt from his jeans and handed it to Stephen, and Malcolm came forward to check his pockets.

“The collar?” He held out a hand to Trevor, who was holding two boxes that looked like large jewellery cases—the kind that held a women’s necklaces. However, jewellery was not what they contained. Trevor opened the first box and pulled out a thick, white collar. Malcom took it, snapped it open and then placed it around Cade’s throat. It was cold and heavy, like lead, designed to prevent shifting. It would tighten if they tried, strangle them if it went too far, cut off their airway so that they would pass out—and if the change didn’t stop, then there was a chance they would die from asphyxiation, or their neck would simply break as it fought its confinement. Cade swallowed and felt his Adam’s apple move against the collar. With a deep breath, he stepped into the cage. The concrete was cold against his bare feet, the cage holding just a cushion to sit on and a bucket for bodily wastage. Stephen closed the gate, securing the main lock and slotting the three bolts into place. When he looked up at Cade from behind the bars, his eyes were not friendly. Gone was the best friend he had had, and Cade felt the loss and pain of it down to his very bones.

“The next one,” Malcolm said.

“You want them next to each other?” Stephen scowled.

“Yes,” Malcolm said, offering no reason for his decision. Stephen hesitated at the gate of the next cage, displeasure evident on his face as he reluctantly opened the cage next to Cade’s. Gemma said nothing as her father secured the collar around her throat, but her eyes were on Stephen—and they were blazing, anger deep in their depths. Cade caught the look in her eyes, and he was quite sure Malcolm had as well. It was hot enough that it would probably give the silver a run for its money. She stepped into the cage, her eyes fixed on Stephen. They stared at each other as he shut the gate and engaged the locks, and Cade was left without a doubt that some kind of argument or dispute had taken place between the two of them.

“We will send down meals at noon, and then again at five. At all other times, we will not come down here.” Malcolm nodded at both of them, but his eyes lingered on Gemma before he turned to leave, the only sign of worry he inadvertently showed for his daughter. Stephen followed him out in solemn silence, but Trevor stayed behind.

Trevor and Cade were matched in height, both impressively tall, and shared the same deep blue eyes—but that was where the similarities ended. Everything else about Cade, he had got from his mother, Katherine. It was Aaron and Danny who looked like Trevor. They were the unfortunate ones.

“We have found Phoenix’s maker,” Trevor began. Cade’s stomach lurched. He held his breath, waiting for his father to say more. “He can challenge his maker and if—
if
being the decisive word—he can beat him, then we will look at accepting him. But understand this ...” Trevor’s voice lowered to a menacing growl and his eyes grew cold. “He will never be completely accepted, and if you do not survive in here tonight, then we have no reason to keep your little pet.” The words were spoken so matter-of-factly, as if he were discussing the weather instead of the likelihood of his son’s death tonight. 

Cade said nothing, just stood there staring at his father defiantly, daring him to say more. The fuck with his act of bravado now that there were silver bars between them. “I will survive,” Cade said slowly. “And Phoenix
will
be part of the pack. He will earn it.”

Trevor’s expression hardened. “You used to make me proud. Your mother thinks that what you have done is wonderful. She is a fool. She has a woman’s heart and it is soft. If I am forced to take him into my pack, you and I … I can't disown you from the pack and I can't kick you from my life. I won’t shame myself that way. But you …” He pointed an angry finger at Cade. “You have chosen the half-breed over your family and your pack,” he spat. “You will do your duty by the Castle woman. It is the only thing that keeps you here, because otherwise, between us, we are connected in name only. You will give her children to bear, but when you seal your mating with her, you will denounce your claim to my seat. Should anything happen to Aaron, the honour will skip you and move straight to Danny. I will not have a half-breed linked to my seat. Do you understand?”