Page 37 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)

In my dreams, Jed raced ahead of me on the hunting grounds. He was years younger, around eleven—the same age as when our parents

were arrested.

“Jed!” I screamed. But he didn’t hear me.

He took another step and fell into the ground, out of sight.

The pit.

I screamed his name again, but there was no answer. And it seemed no matter how fast and hard I ran, I couldn’t get any closer.

Couldn’t get to him. Couldn’t save him .

A familiar clinking broke through my nightmares, jolting me awake.

I blinked, listening.

It was the sound of cells unlocking, though the blaring buzzer that typically accompanied the locks was strangely absent,

and the lights didn’t come on—the corridor remained enveloped in darkness.

I lay still on my bed, straining my ears for any other sign of life, but I heard nothing aside from the various snores of

the sleeping inmates within the cellblock.

Maybe it was an accident. Maybe the night shift guard fell asleep on top of the controls.

Silently, I rose, the chill of the cement floor harsh against my bare feet.

It had to be an oversight. Larch would never allow us to mill about freely in the middle of the night.

If he thought an injured hunter was terrible for his reputation, I couldn’t imagine what the Council would think if they found

out about his negligence in handling an entire cellblock of inmates.

My fingertips brushed the cold metal bars of my cell, expecting to meet resistance and find the door latched securely in place. But it drifted open effortlessly beneath my touch.

It made the lightest of scraping sounds, and my heart stopped.

When I glanced into the corridor, expecting to find the blinking red lights from the cameras that lined the tops of the cells,

there was only blackness. None of them were recording. None of them would witness an attack.

I slid the cell door shut again and propped one of the novels Yara had lent me against the bars so that anyone trying to gain

entrance would send it crashing to the floor. Then I arranged my clothes on top of my mattress beneath my new plush comforter,

molding a crude silhouette of a sleeping figure as best I could in the dark.

Wrapping another blanket around myself, I sank to the floor between the foot of my bed and the farthest corner of my cell.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard the metallic groan of a rusty cell door rolling open. My pulse quickened.

Soft footsteps padded down the corridor. A predator stalking its prey. I clenched my hands into fists, my body tensing. What

would I do if they opened the door to my cell?

If I could get past them and into the hall, I could shut them in my cell until help came.

My other option was to fight back. The attack in the bathroom hadn’t been a fair fight, but I knew I’d have the upper hand

if an inmate came at me one-on-one.

Soft footsteps sounded in the corridor, growing closer and closer.

I clenched my fists at my sides.

But the footsteps stopped before they reached my cell, and I heard another door slide open. I couldn’t quite place the distance

of the sound. I stood—

A sudden commotion in the cell next to mine sent my heart racing.

August’s cell.

I heard a thump , a crunch , and then a cry so wretched it seemed to claw its way beneath my skin, burrowing into the marrow of my bones. I fought the urge to cover my ears, lunging for the door and bursting out of my cell as the lights in the corridor flickered on, illuminating the cellblock.

I glanced around wildly, catching Perri’s cell door reverberating. Her hands clenched around the bars of her cell, and she

peeked out into the corridor as if she were as shocked by the commotion as the rest of us.

Cell doors rolled open all around me, and inmates emerged, drawn to the anguished cries coming from August’s cell.

My feet thudded against the cool cement floor, and I reached August’s cell just as Yara did. She had a silky pink sleep mask

shoved up onto her head, and her normally smooth hair was mussed and tangled. We shared a look before turning to face the

scene before us.

Yara sucked in a breath and whispered, “ No .”

I felt the blood drain from my face, and my legs grew weak as dizziness set in. I reached out and gripped Yara’s shoulder

to keep from dropping to my knees, blinking as if what I was seeing would disappear if I could only clear my vision.

Inside his cell, August lay crumpled, his ankle bent at an impossible angle. At his side was some kind of metal rod. His blankets

and mattress lay in a heap on the floor as if he’d been yanked from his bed and had dragged the bedding right along with him.

“I think she broke my ankle,” August gasped, his breathing labored. “It hurts . I can’t move it at all. I’m not going to be able to walk.”

August’s words continued to tumble out as he rocked back and forth.

I swallowed against the bile in my throat, stepping forward on shaky legs to examine the injury. I bit back a sob. August

was right—maybe even conservative in his diagnosis. The way his ankle was bent, I imagined some of the bones had been shattered.

I looked over to find Yara shaking, mouth agape. Her hand was pressed to the wall, keeping her from collapsing. Seeing her

shock mirroring mine had me swallowing the rising wave of panic and fury within me, and I let logic seep in instead.

Kit stepped into the cell, eyes wide with horror as she knelt beside me and grasped August’s hand in hers. “Momo,” she called, voice slicing through the small crowd of onlookers and their nervous chatter.

The young boy appeared, Jed at his back with an arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders. Upon seeing August, Momo let

out a yowl and rushed toward us.

“Gus!” he cried, reaching out.

“It’s all right, Momo,” August said through his teeth, clearly pushing through his pain and fear to set Momo’s mind at ease.

“It’s going to be okay.” August looked to Kit, a message in his eyes.

“Go see if Vale is on duty, Momo. Tell him we need Dr. Row. Now,” Kit commanded.

Tears slipped down Momo’s cheeks as he darted away, pushing through the crowd of inmates who were clamoring to get a closer

look at August.

I glanced up and across the corridor to where Perri was still gripping the bars of her cell, grinning. Rage simmered inside

me.

I knew it had been her.

Kit was speaking in low, soothing tones to August, so I cast my attention around the cell, scanning the space for any clue

that would prove beyond a doubt that Perri was behind this.

“Out,” I hissed at the other inmates, glaring. And my reputation might have helped me for once, as most of them backed up

a few steps.

I checked the latch on the cell door, confirming it hadn’t been forced open. It had been unlocked just like mine.

There were no other weapons in the room. Just the rod.

I leaned over, picking it up. It was copper and about an inch in diameter. I hadn’t seen anything like it around Endlock,

or really even in Dividium, and didn’t know how Perri would’ve gotten access to it.

“It’s an industrial water pipe.”

I turned and saw Jed looking at the pipe over my shoulder.

I blinked. “How do you know?”

“We used them at the water treatment facility in Dividium,” he said, taking the pipe from me and rotating it in front of his

eyes. “They were just like this.”

I whirled around. “Yara. What’s Perri’s work assignment?”

Yara had moved next to Kit, leaning against her for support and holding August’s free hand, but her eyes snapped up to mine.

“She was in laundry. But when she fell out of favor with Larch, he moved her into plumbing. She’s assigned to Hyde.”

I shuddered at the thought of having to work with Hyde. But plumbing...

I turned back to Jed. “You think she’d have access to these?”

Jed’s mouth twisted to one side before he nodded. “Yes. We had bins full of them at the facility. If one went missing, it

would’ve been hard to notice.”

I ground my teeth together, my hands curling into fists as I made for the cell door. To confront Perri. To make her pay .

A hand wrapped around my wrist, yanking me back.

“No,” Jed said fiercely. “Attacking her will only make it worse.”

“She did this to him!” I hissed. “It’s one thing to go after me for turning her in. But to do this? To August ?” I’d known Perri was a force at Endlock, but this was a wild escalation from what I’d thought she was capable of. She’s as much as killed him.

I couldn’t say the last part out loud. Not with August writhing on the floor next to me.

“And what happens if you take out your anger on her?” Jed whispered. “August’s hurt. He’s not going to be able to help with

our plans for a while. And you think throwing a couple of punches is worth winding up in solitary, when we need you most?”

Jed finished, out of breath, and some of the fight left me. He was right. This wasn’t about acting on my urges or getting

revenge. This wasn’t about me or what I wanted.

I knelt back down, close to August, checking for any changes in his ankle.

Vale burst into the cell, chest heaving, panicked eyes scanning the room. They caught on me, and his entire frame visibly

relaxed as he exhaled. “Are you hurt?” The words tumbled from his lips, urgent and unguarded.

His eyes raked over me, burning with intensity as if he were committing every inch of me to memory. His hand reached out, hovering in the space between us. Then abruptly, he pulled back, shaking his head as if he’d forgotten himself—his role.

Kit’s eyes flicked between us.

“I’m fine. It’s August.”

Vale wrenched his gaze from mine with visible effort. His face went white at the sight of August’s mottled ankle, and he made

a choking sound.

He knelt on my other side, close enough that his arm brushed mine, as he laid a gentle hand on August’s shoulder. “Dr. Row

is on the way, Gus,” he said softly. Then he faced me again. “Tell me what happened.”

“The cells,” I began, an edge to my voice, even as my brain caught on how Vale had called August by his name, not his number.