Chapter 4: The Cage with No Bars

  [Sara’s POV]

  The van finally stopped.

  A deep hush fell over everything. No more tires grinding gravel. No more muffled growls from the front. Just… silence. Heavy. Expectant.

  The doors opened, and cold night air greeted my skin like a sp.

  Raven didn’t say a word. She just reached in, unfastened my wrists, and nodded toward the exit. Her eyes were unreadable, but her presence… it made the air feel thinner.

  I followed. What choice did I have?

  Her pce was nothing like I expected. Not a crumbling warehouse or underground pit. No, this was a mansion. Modern, sleek, steel and gss—hiding its cruelty behind clean lines and expensive silence.

  Inside, it smelled like leather, faint cologne, and something else… muskier. Unpceable.

  The lights were dim. Controlled. No hallway paintings or pictures of smiling families. Just bnk walls and long shadows.

  She led me upstairs.

  Third door on the left. She opened it. And stepped aside.

  It wasn’t a prison. It was a bedroom. But not mine.

  The walls were dark gray, with shelves full of books—philosophy, strategy, old crime novels. The bed at the center was massive. The sheets bck, perfectly tucked. A single pillow dented like someone had just gotten up.

  I stepped in hesitantly.

  That’s when I saw it.

  At the foot of the bed… low to the ground… was something else.

  A second “bed.” More like a rge cushion. Thick. Covered in brown faux fur. Square-shaped. A little too big for any average dog. But just small enough that a human—if they folded their knees—could crawl in.

  And beside it, on the floor… a heavy-looking colr and a neatly coiled leash.

  My stomach tightened. I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to.

  Was it for a dog?

  Was it for me?

  She didn’t expin. Just gave me one look and said, “This is your room now.”

  My breath caught.

  My room? Or… hers?

  She turned away and walked out.

  The door clicked shut.

  And I stood there, surrounded by too many questions… and too few ways out.