Caged No More: The True Heir's Wrath novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Blood-Right

Jonah Dray claims Ivy under the Accord, chains her in his own silver and walks her through a gauntlet of her own pack's stones, then shows her six weeks of messages from someone who was pretending to be her.

Jonah Dray walked into the torchlight with his hands empty and two silver chains coiled at his belt.

His wolves fanned out behind him, and every Grimjaw guard in the courtyard reached for a weapon.

"Alpha Dray," Dane said, wiping the last of the blood from his lip. "You're early."

"My sister is dying," Jonah said. "I'm not waiting for the moon."

His voice was low and flat, and it carried to every wall.

Dane held out an arm toward me.

"The accused, as the Accord requires. She sent the message. Her own mate has judged her."

"Her former mate," I said, and my voice cracked. "I rejected him ten minutes ago, in front of all of you."

Jonah turned his dark eyes on me for the first time.

They went to my wrists, to the silver, to the burns already blistering under the links.

"Grimjaw's silver," he said. "Thin as its word."

He knelt, unlocked the guards' cuffs with a key from his pocket, and threw them in the dirt.

Then he closed his own chain around my wrists, and it was heavier and tighter, and it bit deeper.

I hissed, and he did not look away.

"If you didn't write it," he said, "you have nine days at the Moot to prove it."

"And if I did?"

"Then I will personally walk you to the Shadow Forest."

He wound the end of the chain around his fist and pulled, and I stumbled forward.

"Wait," Bree called from the steps.

She came down in her cream cardigan with tears shining on her cheeks and caught my sleeve.

"Ivy, please tell him the truth," she whispered. "Please, for Corinne's sake."

"Let go of me," I said.

"I'll pray for you every night," Bree said, and she kissed my cheek before she let go.

I could smell her sweet vanilla soap, and it made my skin crawl and I did not know why.

Jonah led me toward the gate by the chain.

He did not slow down for me, and he did not look back.

The first stone hit me on the cheekbone.

I tasted blood.

"Murderer," someone screamed, and the second stone caught my shoulder.

They threw dirt and gravel and a whole shoe, and a woman I had once carried groceries for spat in my hair.

An old wolf who had taught me to shift as a child pulled back his arm and threw a rock the size of his fist.

It hit my ribs and drove the air out of me.

I fell to my knees on the cobbles and the chain jerked tight.

Jonah stopped.

He stood over me with the chain in his hand and watched the pack throw things at me.

He did not tell them to stop.

I looked up at him through blood and hair.

He looked down at me with no expression at all.

"Get up," he said.

So I got up, and I walked the rest of the way through my own gate with my own people hating me.

Behind me I heard Dane say, "Justice is served," and a cheer went up.

At the gate I turned my head one last time.

Bree stood at the top of the steps with Dane's arm around her.

Neither of them was watching me anymore.

They were looking at each other.

Jonah's wolves loaded me into the back seat of the middle truck, and Jonah climbed in beside me and shut the door.

The truck pulled out through the gate and down the old road.

The torches of Grimjaw shrank behind us, and then the trees closed in.

I sat very still with my wrists burning in the silver.

"Nine days," Jonah said, staring ahead. "The Moot meets at the full moon. Until then you are my prisoner under the Accord."

"I'm not a prisoner. I'm innocent."

"Then you won't mind waiting."

His eyes flicked down to the blood on my cheek, and then away.

"My house, my chain," he said. "You will sleep in the cage in the barn."

"A cage."

"You'll have water and a blanket. No one will lay a hand on you."

"They already did."

He did not answer that.

A long time passed, and the headlights cut a tunnel through the dark pines.

I pressed my forehead to the cold window and tried to breathe through the pain in my ribs.

My chest was hollow where the bond had been.

It hurt, and underneath the hurt something stirred.

It was very small, and it had been asleep for ten months.

I did not know what it was.

"One thing," Jonah said suddenly.

He took out his phone and held it up so I could see the screen.

It was a message thread from Corinne, and her name sat at the top with a photo of a red-haired girl laughing.

The last message was dated three days ago.

"Jonah, I'm going to meet my friend Ivy at the Moon Fair. She says Grimjaw is nothing like the rumours. You'll like her."

Cold went through my whole body.

"She told me about you for six weeks," Jonah said, and now his voice shook. "She called you her friend."

"I have never spoken to her," I said. "Not once."

"Six weeks of messages," he said. "From your number."

I stared at the screen until the words blurred.

Someone had been Ivy for six weeks.

And that someone had known exactly where I would be standing tonight.

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