CAGED (#3, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 64

Jett's hand slipped from my mouth just as the adamere walls jutted up against one another with a resounding thunk that thudded through the corridor.

Frustration set my teeth on edge.

I stared at the black wall in front of me, not even a seam showing between the two doors. I'd been cut off from the Crowthers' armory and I'd failed in my quest to find Zrenyth's Mites within its hold. Despair sank heavily within my soul. A gray nothingness that whispered that everything was lost.

The tips of my toes met rough stone when Jett lowered me to the ground. Cool air washed between us when he let me go and stepped back to circle my tense figure with silent footsteps. He slowly came into view as the overhead lights dimmed erratically—a flash of overly bright before cutting out completely.

I shifted around to face Jett fully.

It was quiet, so quiet, but for my heart drumming in my ears.

Menacing shadows caressed Jett's lean physique clad in black adamere. He stared down at me with contempt gleaming in tiger-slanted eyes. The long hair was tied back but for a few errant strands, damp with perspiration, which had come free from the band and framed sharp cheekbones. His golden complexion was dusted with a sheen of Brunnie-claiming clinging to his skin.

Jett's gaze slid sideways to the wall in front of us and then back to me. "What are you doing here? Were you trying to sneak into the barracks to find a weapon?"

"I got lost in your home," I lied, ensuring my voice quavered. I took a hasty step back and made it seem as if I could barely meet his venomous stare. "I thought the Brunnie was chasing me." Latching my fingers around the messenger bag's strap, I kneaded it nervously, diminishing my appearance in the overly-big dress to look small and frightened, just as I'd done every time I'd encountered the brothers. I flitted a swift glance to the end of the corridor and into the empty chamber beyond as if I were considering making a terrified run for it.

Jett began to pace back and forth, a dagger in his hand. There was a deadly gracefulness to his movements, like a serpent readying to strike. His lips curled into an amused smirk as he scanned my face intently. "You might have fooled Penn with her tales of you breaking and crying in the tower..."

A memory tugged at me of Graysen saying something similar a few nights back. He'd been worried I was breaking. That I was sobbing in hopelessness when I was left alone in the tower. That I was terrified of his brothers.

Penn?

What had she been saying to the brothers? Had she tried to protect me?

"But you don't need to pretend with me," Jett continued as he stopped pacing, shifting his stance into a casual pose. "In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't." He flipped the dagger into the air and caught it by the tip before balancing the point on a finger. "Besides, I think the Brunnie's given you away."