The Ruthless Alpha’s Mate

The cage

Chapter Four

Chapter 4 – The Cage

POV: Amelia

The walls closed in around me—cold stone wrapped in steel bars, and the air was thick with the scent of the pack. I paced the cell like the caged animal I was. My claws scraped against the floor as I shifted back to my human form, feeling my skin prickling and my breath coming in gasps.

The ropes that had bound me were gone, but those bars were still there. Reinforced. They knew how to hold a wolf.

I slammed my palm against the bars anyway, the sharp clang echoing through the packhouse basement. My voice was raw as I shouted, “Cowards. All of you.”

No reply. Just silence and a faint murmur of voices somewhere above. My heart pounded, fueled by fury. Did they really think they could keep me here? Did they think I’d kneel? I’d been trapped before, and I always managed to break free.

I grabbed the bars again, shaking them until my arms ached. The metal didn’t budge. The cell held firm. My chest heaved, the fire inside me burning bright, but a nagging truth hissed in the back of my mind: I wouldn’t win this fight with brute strength.

Letting go, my fingers throbbed, and I stepped back. My heartbeat slowed, yet the anger remained. Packs. They were always the same. Always building cages, enforcing rules, and claiming to promise safety while deciding who lived and who didn’t. I’d seen it before—packs had destroyed my family just as much as hunters had. If I allowed it, they would destroy me too.

Execution. That word sank deep inside me. That’s what was happening here. They were just waiting for the Alpha’s command.

I touched my wrist again, brushing against the scar hidden beneath my skin. The trap. The steel teeth clamping shut and the pain of silence when no one came to help. I had vowed never to let anyone chain me again. And yet, here I was.

A low sound snapped me back to the present. A door creaked open. Boots descended the steps—heavy, measured.

I turned, every muscle tense.

At the bottom of the stairs stood Ryan. The Alpha. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, and his cold blue eyes found me instantly, cutting through the dim light. He didn’t speak at first—he just watched.

I despised the way his gaze lingered on me—steady and unreadable, as if he were examining a weapon he wasn’t sure he wanted to use. Even worse was the way my chest twisted toward him, the bond tugging at a part of me I wanted to tear out.

I crossed my arms and lifted my chin. “Here to watch the show? The rogue in her cage. Must make you feel powerful.”

His jaw tightened. “You should be dead.”

His words hit me like a punch—hard and final. Yet he didn’t step closer or give the order to strike. He just stood there, his eyes cold and mouth set.

I forced out a laugh, bitter and sharp. “But you couldn’t do it, could you? The mighty Alpha, too soft to finish the job.”

His eyes flashed with anger for a moment, raw and hot. “Don’t confuse restraint with softness. Rogues are filth. Dangerous. That’s all you are.”

The word ‘filth’ burned hotter than any bar could. My wolf surged, demanding I tear through the metal and rip out his throat. But the bond whispered too, soft and insistent, twisting my anger until I hated myself for feeling it at all.

I moved closer to the bars, close enough to see the faint scar on his jaw and the tension in his shoulders. My voice dipped to a murmur. “Then why am I still breathing?”

His silence said it all. He didn’t know. Or worse, he did, and hated it.

For a moment, the air between us thickened. I felt the bond pulse, sharp and heavy, pulling us together despite everything. My breath caught, my chest betraying me. I pushed it down, forcing all I had into the fury.

I gripped the bars, staring into his eyes. “I don’t care what you think you feel. You won’t own me. I’ll never bow to you. I’d rather die than let your pack break me.”

His gaze remained unyielding, but I saw that flicker again. Something in him wavered, just as I felt myself waver. He loathed this bond as much as I did.

Good.

I leaned back, releasing the bars. My voice was steady, sharp as a blade. “You can chain me. Try to starve me. But I’ll find a way out. I always do.”

The bond tugged at me again, whispering false ideas of fate and connection. I ignored it. I’d lived my whole life without a pack. I didn’t need him. I didn’t need anyone.

Ryan said nothing. He turned, the light catching the edge of his scar as he ascended the stairs. His silence was worse than his words. He left the door open behind him, and his footsteps faded into the packhouse above.

Again, I was alone. Alone, but not broken.

I pressed my forehead against the cold bars, breathing heavily, the fire still burning in my chest.

They thought they could cage me. They were wrong.

I would get out.

I swore it.