Chapter 216: Caged

One Week After the Summoning

Caelan was going to lose his mind.

He had spent the last hour pacing the length of the bedchambers.

For an entire week, he had been confined to this room.

Seven days of sitting in the same damned room, staring at the same walls, sleeping in the same bed, and listening to the sounds of people moving around the palace while he remained hidden like a criminal.

He was beginning to understand why prisoners sometimes lost their minds in captivity.

At least they had the comfort of knowing they were alive.

He, on the other hand, had returned from the dead only to find himself locked away in a room that smelled faintly of the remnants of its former occupant.

A dead man’s room and a dead man’s body... a dead man’s life.

Curse that!

He stopped in front of the bed and stared down at his hands.

They were not his hands.

He had spent the first few days examining them, turning them over, clenching his fingers into fists, and watching the tendons move beneath the skin. It was a strange experience, seeing a body respond to his commands while knowing that every part of it had once belonged to someone else.

Miranda had assured him that the body would serve his purpose and she had been right.

After recovering from the summoning spell, she had returned to the cave and worked on the burns that covered his face and arm. The process had taken hours, but she had eventually healed them, leaving his skin smooth and unblemished.

He was perfect now or, at least, the body was.

The burns were gone an his arm no longer ached. Even the stiffness he had experienced after waking had disappeared.

There was nothing wrong with his physical appearance. The problem was that this body might look like him, but it was not him.

It was in the eyes.

Everytime he looked into the mirror, he could not recognize his own eyes.

The moon goddess was a jester. Was this her own way of making sure the world righted itself? A reincarnation of himself, Morgana and the princes to overturn what they had done in the past.

There was a faint sound from the other side of the room and Caelan’s head snapped up.

He listened for the knock before he crossed the room, stopping in front of the bookshelf.

He grabbed the book on the second shelf, moving it out of place and pressing his fingers against the panel, pushed it inward,

He heard the mechanism release and the bookshelf shift.

Miranda’s face emerged from the darkness of the narrow passage.

She looked considerably better than she had the last time he saw her, although her skin remained pale and there were dark circles beneath her eyes. She had clearly not recovered completely from the spell that had dragged him back from the dead.

"I cannot remain here any further." Caelan turned away from her before she could speak. "This skin... this room. Everything is driving me crazy."

Miranda closed her eyes briefly and sighed internally.

Of all the things she had anticipated when she brought Caelan back, this had not been one of them.

She had forgotten how much of a complainer he was.

It had been only a week... a single week since she had completed the spell, and he was already pacing around the room like a caged animal.

She should have known better.

Caelan had never been a patient man.

Even before his death, he had struggled with the idea of waiting for something he believed he deserved. He had always wanted more, always wanted it immediately, and had spent years resenting anyone who seemed to possess the things he lacked.

Death, apparently, had done very little to change that part of him and it was now grating on her last nerves.

"Listen, Caelan..."

"No, you listen, Miranda." His voice rose sharply, cutting her off mid sentence. "I agreed to do what you wanted of me. I agreed to take Alistair’s place. I agreed to your little arrangement with the Alpha Council, and I agreed to remain hidden until you deemed it safe for me to appear."

He gestured toward the corner of the room.

"I have reread those parchments so many times that I could recite every word in my sleep. I know every pattern on the wall, every crack in the ceiling...what more do you want from me? How long will this plan of us take? When will it begin? What even is the plan? Can you tell me that much?"

"Patience." Miranda muttered.

"Patience?" Caelan snorted in disbelief.

He turned away from Miranda, dragging a hand through his hair.

"This skin, this room, this damned silence. Everything is driving me mad. I cannot even open the window without worrying that someone will see me."

His gaze shifted toward the window.

It was tall, with heavy curtains that had been drawn since the day he arrived. A thin line of sunlight slipped through the gap, illuminating a small portion of the floor.

It was the only reminder that there was a world outside the room.

"I understand you that you feel caged," Miranda said in a calm voice. "But we need to take this as carefully as we can. One wrong move and we would be hanging by our necks."

Miranda took a slow breath.

She could not afford to lose her temper with him. She needed him, and he needed her, whether he was willing to admit it or not.

They were both bound to this arrangement now.

"Just give it another week," Miranda said softly. "In another week, you will be out of here."

"One week and I will no longer have to sneak around like a rat?" Caelan turned to her.

"If everything goes according to plan." Miranda answered.

He could endure one more week, Caelan thought.

But if Miranda failed to keep her promise, he would find his own way out.