Page 42 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Let’s assume this all works out, and we find a way to access the other section of tunnels. How are

seven of us going to slip out of Endlock without anyone noticing?”

Jed watched us all in brooding silence, and I could tell from the look in his eyes that I’d be in for it later.

August grimaced. “Once Kit disables the wristband tracking and we access the other tunnels, the only thing I can think of

is to make sure we’re all selected for a hunt while Vale’s on duty. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I just don’t know what

other option we have. We’re open to suggestions.”

“If we can even manage to get Kit what she needs to disable the tracking. I thought I’d be able to get a tablet for her, but

my lead fell through,” I grumbled. Then my eyes shot to Vale. “Wait, she can use your tablet.”

“She can’t,” Vale responded, and I frowned. “I would’ve handed mine over ages ago if it wouldn’t have put us all at risk.

If someone looked into the activity log before we had a chance to escape and saw that my tablet had been used to disable the

tracking, we’d be fucked. There’s no lie in the world to explain why I would disable the tracking on six active wristbands.”

I groaned.

“But she can use Mort’s tablet.”

My gaze snapped to Vale’s face, only to find him grinning .

“I—what?” I couldn’t have heard him right.

“I took it. Before anyone found his body.”

Jed laughed. “I guess we can trust you.”

We stepped into a new cavern that looked similar to the first pit we’d entered.

It had an old ladder leading to an exit in the earthen ceiling.

Vale pulled out his tablet, tilting the screen in my direction so that I could see the tiny red dots that were moving across a map of the grounds. The hunters.

“No hunters nearby.” Vale pointed to our location, then climbed the ladder first, poking his head out of the ground and scanning

every direction to double-check before signaling for us to follow. Jed scampered up the ladder, and then I pushed August up

before me to where Vale was waiting to help pull him out of the hole.

After so long in the dark with only the artificial glow of the flashlights, the sunlight forced me to squint.

I scrambled up the rudimentary ladder, edging closer to the lip of the hole. But as my fingers closed around the final wooden

rung, it gave way, splintering, and I fell backward onto the hardpacked ground below.

“Raven!” Jed cried out.

I groaned, lying in the dirt and allowing the breath to return to my lungs.

“I’m fine,” I croaked reflexively, not wanting to worry Jed.

There was a thud, and I glanced over to see that Vale, now dimly illuminated by the light above, had jumped back into the

hideout without the ladder’s assistance. “Are you all right?” He knelt in front of me, scanning my body.

I assessed myself for injuries, feeling a rush of sticky warmth seeping from the fleshiest part of my palm. I lifted my hand

toward the light filtering in from above, wincing at the gouge left by the splintered rung.

Ouch.

Vale sucked in a breath, taking my wounded hand gently in his. His hand was warm against my skin, the rough calluses he’d

earned over the years rivaling my own.

“You’ll need stitches for that,” he said, shaking his head. “I could do it right now, but then they’d know I helped you today.”

I nodded. “I can wait until we get back. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

But the wound was steadily oozing blood, and I felt a hint of dizziness creeping over me.

“Take your shirt off,” Vale said abruptly.

My breath caught, and my gaze flew to his face. “What?”

The smile that lit his lips was devastating, and his warm eyes glittered in amusement. “To stop the bleeding, Little Bird.

I’d enjoy watching you take your shirt off under much different circumstances, too, but I think you knew that already.”

A small thrill coursed through me as I painstakingly unzipped my jumpsuit and removed the shirt beneath with my uninjured

hand, noticing that Vale was struggling not to stare at my bare skin.

I wrapped the garment tightly around my bleeding hand, then zipped my jumpsuit.

“Okay, I think that will do for now,” I whispered, looking up.

Vale was staring at me. Or more accurately, staring at my mouth. He was close enough that his breath mingled with my own.

And just like that, all sense of reason disappeared, like it had in the basement a couple of nights before. I thought about

how easy it would be to lean in.

But he was already leaning in.

I licked my lips, anticipating how his skin would taste.

His mouth was just a breath away from mine—

Someone coughed above, and I jumped back from Vale as if struck by an electric current.

“You two coming up?” August asked. “The tunnel will have given us a lead on the hunters, but they can’t be too far from the

Blood Tree now that the force field has moved to the center of the grounds.”

Vale closed his eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yes. Of course.”

What am I doing?

We were in the middle of a hunt. Jed and August were barely ten feet away from us.

Vale touched my shoulder, gently urging me toward the broken ladder.

August reached for me, and Vale spotted me from behind. His fingers pressed into my waist until I emerged into the early afternoon

sunshine, in the middle of another berry-laden bush.

Vale stuck his head out of the tunnel exit, checking his tablet one more time before nodding. “Get to the Blood Tree. I’ll be waiting at Endlock, and I’ll get you to the infirmary once you’re back.”

He gave me a lingering look before he ducked back into the tunnel, replacing the pit’s cover. I leaned down, covering the

lid with sticks and dead leaves, ensuring it blended seamlessly with its surroundings.

As the three of us staggered from the cloak of the forest and across the clearing to the Blood Tree, I knew if any hunter

were within shooting distance, we wouldn’t have stood a chance—August limping and leaning heavily on Jed and me, my hand clutched

to my chest, my now-ruined shirt already soaked through with blood.

This time, only one other target joined us at the Blood Tree. Three of the seven of us selected had fallen to the hunters

or Larch’s obstacles.

When we returned to the prison, I caught a brief glimpse of the Councilors in their impeccably tailored, specially designed

hunting attire as they stormed back toward Endlock.

Councilor Elder was tall and wraithlike, striding toward the prison with graceful movements, the light breeze blowing her

black curls from her face. She bared her teeth at Larch, the whiteness contrasting against her ruby-red lipstick and brown

skin. She was young for a councilor. Her father’s death had been unexpected, and Caltriona had taken his spot on the Council

at fifty-three years old.

Councilor Baskan, on the other hand, was approaching seventy. His silver hair was neatly knotted atop his head, his mouth

stretched to the side in a sneer, and his lips were like a thin slash of blood on his milky-white face.

I loosed a breath when I didn’t see Roald with them.

Following a terse exchange, the Councilors retreated into the building, leaving the door to slam shut behind them, inches

from Larch’s nose.

They must have been embarrassed that they hadn’t been able to kill August, even with his injured leg.

It brought me no small satisfaction that citizens from the Lower Sector had outsmarted some of the most powerful people in

Dividium.

Instead of berating us, Larch entered the prison without a word, presumably to follow the Councilors and plead with them to forgive him for their experience.

We lined up against the side of the building, waiting to be escorted inside. The sun-warmed stone soaked through my jumpsuit,

and rivulets of blood ran down my forearm, mirroring the veins beneath my skin.

“What happened to you, 224?” Vale asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

“I was climbing a tree, and the branch I grabbed snapped in half. It sliced my hand,” I stated.

“Clumsy.” He blew out a harsh breath, rolling his eyes. “Come with me.”

I shot a glance at Jed and August before following on Vale’s heels. I didn’t like leaving them alone. Now that I’d all but

confirmed that Perri was actively trying to kill August, it didn’t seem wise to let him go anywhere without a few of us by

his side. But given I’d gone from slight wooziness to feeling like I was moments from passing out, my first priority had to

be getting my hand stitched up.

Vale led me into the prep room and through two locked doors before we reached the staircase leading to the basement.

The halls of the sublevel were lit up with the warm glow from the sconces, but no trace of natural light reached its depths.

The darkness left an uneasiness in my stomach each time I ventured to the basement, reminding me of what might’ve happened

with Mort if Vale hadn’t shown up. Or, worse, the darkness of the apartment in Dividium the night my parents got arrested.

Jed and I had sat in the living room for hours after they were taken, silent, the only sound coming from the blood dripping

off my back from the two fresh strike marks on my shoulder.

We stopped outside the infirmary, and Vale pounded on the door. “Amelia? I have an inmate here to see you. Hand injury. Stitches

are needed.”

As Vale raised his fist to knock again, the door swung open. Dr. Row came bustling out with an armful of medical supplies.

“Oh!” She jumped, nearly dropping her supplies. “Vale, dear, you scared me half to death! What is it?”

Vale gestured to me and my hastily wrapped injury. “224 was wounded during the hunt just now. She needs stitches.”

“Goodness, with all that blood, it certainly looks like it,” Dr. Row said, distracted. She bent her head, using her shoulder

to push her glasses higher on her nose. “A guard called me to the mess hall. There’s been a fight, and one of the inmates

is in bad shape. Can you stitch Raven up? You know where all my things are.”

Without waiting for an answer, she hurried past us toward the stairs leading to the main level. I didn’t know why her use

of my real name and not my inmate number threatened to bring tears to my eyes.

Vale waved me toward the infirmary, and I stepped inside.

I raised an eyebrow at him once the door shut behind us, and we were alone in the small room. “Did you learn to stitch wounds

when you were volunteering at the medical center?”

He nodded. “I was attending the medical academy in the Upper Sector. I was in my second year, which is when they have the

volunteer requirement for their students. After everything that happened, I never got my degree.”

He motioned for me to sit. I did, choosing one of the wheeled chairs that occupied the space, and he settled across from me.

“Let’s take a look at that cut,” he said in a low voice, hooking his hand around the back of my calf and pulling gently to

bring my chair closer to his.

My breath hitched at the unexpected touch. The warmth from his fingers leaked through the fabric of my jumpsuit and pressed

into my skin, and the memory of his lips on mine filled my head.

I flushed, and my eyes flicked up to his and then higher, over his head to the corner of the room where a camera was pointed

directly at us. A red light was blinking at steady intervals.

Watching us.

I stopped breathing, trying to remember everything we’d said since entering the room. Had we implicated ourselves? Betrayed an intimacy we shouldn’t have?

Vale’s brow wrinkled at the look in my eyes, and then he glanced over his shoulder and spotted the camera. He tensed, releasing

my leg like it had burned him.

He took hold of my wrist, unwinding the soiled shirt from my injured hand.

I sucked in a sharp breath as the fabric pulled at my tender flesh.

Vale paused, eyes flitting to my face before he began again with far gentler movements.

He moved away to the attached washroom, returning with a stack of gauze pads. He used the gauze and some saline solution to

clean the wound. When he finished, he picked up the needle and sutures.

“Wait. Aren’t you going to numb the area?”

“We don’t stock numbing agents for inmates, 224,” Vale answered, but his eyes said I’m sorry. “It would be a waste of Endlock’s resources.”

Of course it would.

I swallowed, bracing myself, and he began the painstaking process of stitching. As the needle pierced my skin, I bit my lip

to keep from crying out.

Just breathe.

Breathe.

Keep breathing.

Vale’s eyes moved between my face and my hand, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he worked. I could feel

the tension in his muscles even as his hands remained steady each time the needle pierced my skin.

Every few moments, he met my eyes, urging me to see the apology in them. His jaw was clenched so tightly I half expected to

hear his teeth crack.

He tied off a suture, his hands steady as they deliberately brushed against my fingers, soothing me.

I watched his face, not his movements, letting my eyes trace over his strong jaw and dark hair.

I remembered taking his hair down and knot ting my fingers in his locks.

I remembered things I shouldn’t be remembering, but I allowed it just the same.

I needed something to draw my attention from the throbbing in my hand.

He caught me staring and stopped, pausing for almost a full minute as if he could sense my thoughts. He licked his lips, took

a deep, shuddering breath, then looked down at my hand again, forcing himself to focus.

I watched as his lips twisted into a teasing smile, and warmth pooled in my stomach.

Without speaking, I knew he was remembering our kiss, too.

Wondering what would have happened if we’d been allowed one more uninterrupted minute.

Vale’s shoulders blocked most of my body from the camera’s view, so I allowed my free hand to loosen and slip from where it

rested on my thigh. It dangled between us for a few moments before I brushed my fingers, featherlight, across his knee.

It might have been an accident, except that I wasn’t sure I’d ever done something so purposeful in my life.

Vale leaned forward into my touch under the guise of scrutinizing my wound. His breath mingled with mine as he worked.

I rolled my lips together, fighting a smile.

He tied off a final suture, then dropped his hand from my skin, letting out a shaky breath as he turned his back on me to

clean up the healing supplies.