The Cage (Book 2) ✔️

Bold Desperation

The next part is already up on Ritoria if you'd like to read ahead! OR you can join my Patreon where you'll find The Cage already completed! ;) You can also get a first look at Book 3 of the Prison Series -The Cell- on my Patreon. Check my profile bio for the Patreon link. 

Bold Desperation

I woke to the sound of steady breathing.

Not mine.

For a moment, I wasn't sure where I was. My body felt foreign, weighed down by exhaustion and a dull, lingering ache that pulsed with every breath. The last thing I remembered was blood—too much of it—heat spreading across my chest, Schneider's voice sharp with fear. But now, all I could smell was antiseptic, clean linen, and something faintly wooden, like aged floorboards.

I blinked up at the ceiling, my vision slow to adjust. Wooden beams stretched unevenly above me, dark with time. This wasn't a prison cell. That realization hit first, bringing a rush of quiet relief. Wherever I was, it wasn't there.

Then I saw him, and my heart swelled so violently it almost hurt—until the pain in my chest reminded me that I wasn't as whole as I felt.

Schneider was slumped in a chair beside the bed, arms crossed, head tilted slightly forward, his breathing slow and deep with sleep. His coat was draped over the back of the chair, his holster still strapped across his chest, half-hidden beneath his shirt. Even in sleep, his body remained tense, as if expecting a fight at any moment.

He was clean. He wore new clothes, the scent of soap and something sharper—disinfectant, maybe—lingering faintly around him. His hair, still damp in places, was pushed back from his face. I didn't know how long I'd been out, but it had been long enough for him to freshen up, to sit and fall asleep in the chair.

A year and a half.

That was how long it had been since I'd last seen him. Since we'd been in the same room together, breathing the same air. He looked worse for wear—thinner, shadows carved deep beneath his eyes—but he was alive. And that was all that mattered.

I watched him in silence, taking in every small detail, every shift in his expression. I'd imagined this moment too many times to count, but none of those imagined reunions had felt quite like this. It was real. Tangible. And yet, a strange weight settled in my chest, something unspoken stretching the space between us.

As if sensing my gaze, Schneider stirred, exhaling sharply before his eyes cracked open. For a brief second, there was only groggy confusion, his gaze unfocused as he registered the dimly lit room. Then his eyes landed on me—sharp blue, dark with too many thoughts.

Something in his expression changed.

I saw it, even through the haze of exhaustion. That fleeting flicker of relief, like something inside him had uncoiled, loosened. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by something heavier.

Guilt.

It settled over him like a shadow, like he'd just remembered all the reasons why I shouldn't be here, why I shouldn't have been dragged into the wreckage of his world. The space between us, despite being inches apart, suddenly felt like a chasm.

I swallowed, my voice hoarse from disuse. "Schneider."

He didn't answer right away. Just looked at me, quiet, unreadable. Then, finally, he exhaled, raking a hand through his hair.

"You should still be asleep." His voice was rough, as if he hadn't used it in hours. Or he'd been screaming. A lot.

I almost laughed. "I think I've had enough sleep to last me a lifetime."