CAGED (#3, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 2

My aunt brushed a hand over my mother's forehead to gently push the locks of hair, golden like wheat, away from her bright green eyes.

"I'm fine, really," my mother said, trying not to wince. "I mean, sure my spine might be fractured, my ankle is broken as well as my arm, and this finger." She gingerly twisted her wrist and presented her middle finger, broken badly and snapped to the side.

"Mom just flipped you off," I snickered, jabbing Caidan in the ribs. He shirked aside and burst into a cackling laugh that joined mine and filled the foyer.

She blinked. "Pardon?" Then her eyes thinned as she put it together.

Both of us cut short our laughter and tried for studious, repentant expressions, suddenly interested in everything else in the entranceway than our mother.

"I just need a moment to lie here and mend," she said to reassure my aunt. "You know..." She looked upward toward the vaulted ceiling, her lips slightly curled into her mouth, as a shudder of pain racked her body. "I've never seen the foyer from this view before. It really is quite a majestic home." Aunt Valarie ran soothing strokes up and down my mother's arm. My mother returned a small grateful smile before looking at me. "Are you set for tomorrow, Gray?"

I was to go with my father to the office. Which wasn't an office like the rest of the mortals knew it as. I was to accompany him to House Novak's estate. House Novak was our Upper House. We were in liege to them and oversaw the crime lords, cartels, and syndicates that sold our magic-infused drugs. Tomorrow was a sort of bring-your-kid-to-work-day. I was excited but also apprehensive to be entering the world of Horned Gods for the very first time.

"Weapons bag packed," I replied, shifting Ferne to my hip and widening my stance.

"Suit?"

I screwed up my face. "No fucking way—"

"Gray! You know how I feel about that kind of vulgar language. You're on dishes duty for the week," my mother shot back whip-smart.

No fucking way! So fucking unfair!

I cocked a brow. "How come Dad gets away with it?"

"Trust me, he doesn't—"

"He never seems to be put on dishes duty," I grumbled, batting away Ferne's hands as she pinched my eyebrow, pulling the skin taut. Dishes duty was a punishment that my mother liked to deal out to each of us when we crossed her line. There was a shitload of dishes to be done every single day, and it sucked ass to be put on it.

"No, he has his...own punishment dealt out." Her mouth twitched and I saw a glitter of amusement in her eyes which kind of made me feel like Dad didn't receive the same sort of punishment we did. "And I'm not raising your father. I'm raising you. You are representing our House, therefore you will be wearing a suit."

I heaved a sigh, trying a different tactic. "How about a halfway deal? Jeans—"

"A full suit, Gray."