CHAPTER 2 – A CAGE BUILT OF DUTY
I wake to his scent before I open my eyes.
It presses in on me from every side, thick and inescapable. Dark cedar, iron, something colder beneath it. It clings to the sheets, to the walls, to my skin. Even the air I breathe feels like it belongs to him.
For a moment, I don’t move.
I lie still beneath the weight of it, my body slow, heavy, as if the night never really ended. The memory of the clearing flickers behind my eyes. The torches. The watching eyes.
The stranger.
My chest tightens.
I open my eyes.
The ceiling above me is unfamiliar in its perfection. High beams, polished wood, everything arranged with careful precision. Nothing out of place. Nothing left to chance.
The Alpha house.
Daniel moved me here weeks ago. Said it was safer. Said I needed proper care now.
Said it was time.
I push myself up slowly, one hand resting on my stomach without thinking. The movement is instinctive now, protective. The life inside me is still quiet, but its presence is constant.
A reminder I can’t ignore.
Or escape.
My wolf stirs faintly, restless, brushing against my thoughts.
Not here.
The feeling is sharp, immediate.
I close my eyes briefly. “I know,” I whisper.
But knowing doesn’t change anything.
A soft knock sounds at the door before it opens.
“Miss Collins.”
I turn my head.
One of the Omegas steps inside, her gaze lowered, her movements careful. She carries a tray of food, placing it on the small table by the window without meeting my eyes.
“You should eat,” she says quietly.
“I will,” I answer.
She nods, already stepping back.
There’s no conversation. No pause. Just obedience.
Before she leaves, she hesitates, just for a second. Her shoulders tense, as if she wants to say something.
Then she thinks better of it and slips out, closing the door behind her.
Silence settles again.
I stare at the tray, untouched.
This is what life looks like here.
Everything provided. Everything controlled.
Everything decided.
A cage that doesn’t need bars.
The door opens again, this time without a knock.
I don’t have to look to know who it is.
Daniel’s presence fills the room before he speaks.
“You’re awake.”
I turn slowly.
He stands in the doorway, already dressed, already composed. Like he hasn’t slept at all. His eyes move over me, taking in every detail, lingering just a second too long.
Assessing.
Claiming.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” I say.
“I didn’t need to be heard.”
Of course he didn’t.
He closes the door behind him and walks in, unhurried. Every step measured. Every movement deliberate.
My body tenses without permission.
“I sent for breakfast,” he says, glancing at the tray. “You need to keep your strength up.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You should eat anyway.”
It isn’t a suggestion.
I push the blanket back and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The floor is cold beneath my feet, grounding.
“I will,” I say again, softer this time.
He watches me for a moment, then moves closer.
Too close.
His hand lifts, resting lightly against my stomach. The contact is sudden enough that I freeze.
Not from pain.
From the way my wolf reacts.
A low, warning rumble builds inside me, instinctive and sharp.
I force it down.
Daniel’s expression doesn’t change, but I feel the shift in him. The way his focus narrows.
“The heir is strong,” he says, his voice quieter now. “I can feel it.”
He doesn’t say child.
He doesn’t say baby.
Heir.
Legacy.
Power.
I swallow, my throat dry. “It’s still early.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he replies. “Some things show themselves sooner.”
His hand lingers, then slowly drops away.
I exhale, not realizing I’d been holding my breath.
“This is important, Emma,” he continues. “You understand that, don’t you?”
I nod automatically. “Yes.”
But the word feels hollow.
He studies my face, searching.
“For the pack,” he adds. “For our future.”
Our.
The word sits wrong in my chest.
“You’ve done well,” he says after a moment. “Better than I expected.”
Something about that makes my stomach turn.
“I didn’t do anything,” I reply.
“You carried on,” he says. “You stayed where you belong.”
My wolf pushes forward again, stronger this time.
No.
I look away, moving toward the window to break the moment. Outside, the pack moves through the courtyard below. Betas giving orders. Omegas following without question.
No one argues.
No one resists.
Everything flows from one source.
Daniel.
“You shouldn’t wander,” he says behind me.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
His reflection appears faintly in the glass, standing just behind me.
“You left the grounds last night.”
My chest tightens.
“I needed air.”
“You had air here.”
“I needed space.”
A pause.
“From me?”
The question is quiet, but there’s nothing soft about it.
I turn slightly, meeting his eyes. “From everything.”
He watches me for a long second.
Then he steps closer, closing the distance again.
“You don’t need space,” he says. “You need stability. Especially now.”
His gaze drops briefly to my stomach before returning to my face.
“I’ve given you that.”
The words hit harder than they should.
Because part of me knows they’re true.
He did take me in.
He did give me a place when I had nothing.
The guilt settles in my chest, heavy and familiar.
“You did,” I say quietly.
“And I always will.”
There’s something in his tone that makes my skin prickle.
A promise.
Or a warning.
A knock breaks the tension.
Daniel doesn’t move.
“Enter,” he calls.
The door opens, and Jason steps inside. His posture is straight, controlled, but his eyes flick briefly toward me before settling on Daniel.
“Alpha,” he says. “The eastern patrol reports movement near the border.”
Daniel’s attention shifts instantly. “From which side?”
“North ridge. They didn’t cross, but they didn’t retreat either.”
A rival pack.
The air in the room changes.
“Keep eyes on them,” Daniel says. “No engagement unless they push further.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
Jason hesitates, just slightly. His gaze flicks to me again, something unreadable passing through his expression.
Then it’s gone.
He nods once and leaves.
Daniel exhales slowly, his focus already returning to me.
“You see?” he says. “Everything depends on strength. On order.”
“I see,” I answer.
“And you are part of that now.”
The words settle heavily.
Part of it.
Or trapped inside it.
The memory of last night flickers again.
That scent.
Clean. Electric. Alive.
So different from the suffocating weight of this place.
My heart stumbles at the thought.
Daniel’s eyes narrow slightly. “Where are you?”
“Here,” I say quickly.
But I’m not.
Not completely.
Because something in me is still standing at the edge of the forest, searching for a shadow that disappeared too fast.
A pull I don’t understand.
A feeling I can’t explain.
Daniel steps back finally, as if satisfied with whatever he sees.
“I have matters to attend to,” he says. “Stay inside today.”
“I always do.”
His gaze lingers a moment longer, then he turns and leaves.
The door closes behind him with a quiet, final sound.
The room feels different without him.
Lighter.
But not free.
I move to the chair by the window, lowering myself slowly. My hand rests on my stomach again, fingers curling slightly.
“What is happening to us?” I whisper.
My wolf doesn’t answer.
But she doesn’t settle either.
Another knock comes, softer this time.
“Emma?”
Olivia.
Relief moves through me before I can stop it. “Come in.”
She slips inside, closing the door quickly behind her. Her eyes scan the room, checking, always careful.
“You’re alone?” she asks.
“For now.”
She exhales, tension easing from her shoulders as she walks closer.
“You shouldn’t be left like this,” she says under her breath.
“I’m fine.”
She gives me a look. “No, you’re not.”
I try to smile, but it doesn’t hold.
Olivia crouches in front of me, her voice dropping lower. “I saw what happened last night.”
My chest tightens. “Everyone did.”
“Not like I did,” she says. “You looked… wrong. Like you were fighting something.”
“I was just tired.”
“Emma.”
She doesn’t push harder, but her eyes don’t leave mine.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” she says quietly.
I look away.
Because I don’t even know how to tell the truth.
About the scent.
About the way my wolf reacted.
About how everything inside me feels like it’s shifting.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” I admit finally.
Olivia’s expression softens, but there’s something else there too.
Worry.
“Then listen to me,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper as she leans closer.
Her words brush against my ear, quiet and urgent.
“This isn’t protection anymore.”
She pulls back just enough for me to see her face.
“This is ownership.”
The word lands hard.
Before I can respond, the door handle turns.
Olivia goes still.
And Daniel’s voice cuts through the air from the other side.
“Emma.”