Page 43 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)

I closed my eyes, relishing the warmth of the scalding water raining down from the shower. Sloughing the dirt from the tunnels

off my body with a cloud of jasmine-scented soap swirling in the steamy air almost made me forget where I was.

I could practically taste freedom. With Vale on our side, I knew it wouldn’t be long before we were out of Endlock.

A sharp tug on my hair yanked me back to reality, tearing me from the privacy of the shower stall I occupied. The cool air

of the bathroom replaced the hot stream of water, sending shivers through my body. My scalp screamed in protest.

Perri stood there, holding me at arm’s length, strands of my wet hair clamped in her meaty fist.

“You think you and August can get away with what you did to Cyril? You killed him!” Her voice erupted into a raw, furious

scream. I’d been concerned about leaving August alone, worried that Perri or Larch might target him again, but I hadn’t given

my safety a second thought.

She didn’t bother to lower her voice, hinting that she’d taken care of the guards who usually monitored the bathroom—bribed

them or distracted them in some other way.

Perri reared back to punch me in the face, but I pulled against the hand she had knotted in my hair and moved enough that

her fist grazed my skin instead of landing a direct hit. Still, a stinging sensation spread across my cheek, followed by a

warm trickle of blood sliding down my chin. She had a shard of glass in her hand, and when I looked across the room, I found

the tall mirror in the corner shattered.

Her hands shook, and her eyes were wild. “You’ve ruined everything . You’re the reason I’m here. The reason Cyril’s dead. The reason the warden dropped me.”

She screamed the words in my face, spit flying from her mouth, and her cheeks going red.

I should’ve been afraid, but Perri had made a mistake this time. Before, she’d had other inmates backing her up. Now, it was

just the two of us.

A grin unfurled across my face.

Perri’s blow had loosened her grip on my hair, and as she pulled back for another strike, I turned my head to the side and

out of her grasp, letting her arm fly past me. My hands shot up, locking around her wrist, and I pulled, redirecting her momentum

and sending her crashing into the wet shower wall.

She managed to stay on her feet and lunged forward, swinging the shard of glass wildly. I ducked, backing away, and she tried

to match my steps.

She was strong, but I was faster than her.

I pretended to stumble, and she took the bait, shoving the glass forward to slice my neck—but I caught her wrist again, twisting

until she dropped the shard, and it shattered into pieces against the damp floor.

Without hesitation, I slammed my knee into her groin.

Hard.

It was a dirty move, but if anyone deserved it, it was Perri.

She doubled over, gasping in pain. My scalp still throbbed from the force of her grip, and my teeth clenched together, anger

thrumming through me.

Before she could recover, I lifted my knee again, this time driving it straight into her nose. I couldn’t help the tiny thrill

of satisfaction that ran through me when I heard the crunch of breaking bones.

She fell to the wet tiles, yowling in pain.

I snatched my clothes from the floor, hopping into loose pants and then pulling a camisole from Yara over my head. I didn’t

bother towel-drying my hair, and water droplets dripped down my back and over my chest as I headed for the exit.

Two guards stood watch outside the bathroom, barring other prisoners from entering. Their mouths dropped open when they saw me relatively unharmed, but they didn’t say a word or move to stop me from leaving.

I offered them a tight smile and a bow of my head. “I think someone in there might need your help,” I whispered conspiratorially.

“What did you do?” one of the guards asked, gripping her baton—a woman with shiny black hair that I’d seen hanging around

Hyde—terrible taste in company.

“The guard that usually waits inside and monitors the showers was gone,” I said, crinkling my brow. “An inmate attacked me,

and I defended myself. There’s a lot of blood. I don’t think one towel will cut it.”

The guards stepped into the bathroom, and I rushed away before they changed their minds and decided to question me further.

When I rounded the corner, I nearly collided with Vale, who was hurrying toward the bathrooms.

“What’s the rush?” I said, using his arm to steady myself.

“Kit said she tried to go into the bathroom, but guards stopped her. I had a feeling Perri was up to something and—” He stopped

mid-sentence, staring at my cheek. “What the fuck happened? Who did that to you?” he demanded through gritted teeth, moving

his hand up to my face and tracing the skin beneath the cut with the pad of his thumb.

I glanced around, noting the cameras in the corridor were down—Perri’s doing, most likely. It seemed that even if Larch had

dropped her, she still held some sway over the guards. She might even be desperate enough to still be calling the shots on

her business beneath Larch’s nose.

I leaned further into Vale’s touch, even as I told myself I should be shaking him off. “It’s nothing. A scratch,” I murmured.

His eyes darkened further, but the sound of heavy-booted footsteps around the corner had him clamping his hand around my arm

and dragging me into the nearest supply closet.

It was nearly black inside, and there was barely enough room for one person, let alone the two of us.

The door pressed into my back, and there wasn’t an inch of space be tween Vale’s chest and mine. I was all too aware of my heavy breathing. And his.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the sliver of light seeping in from under the door, and I saw Vale staring intently at me.

I cleared my throat once I heard the footsteps pass by our hiding place and move farther down the corridor.

“I really am okay,” I whispered. “The blood makes it look worse than it is.”

Vale’s jaw was still hard, his eyes flicking over every inch of my face, fingers prodding gently along my skin as if worried

I’d hidden more injuries from him. Finally, he nodded, letting out a breath. “Those guards are still losing their jobs—and

they should feel lucky to keep their lives.”

I went still for a moment, an unexpected thrill coursing through me at the idea of Vale unleashing his wrath on my behalf.

I shook my head to clear the sensation.

“I can take care of myself, Vale,” I murmured.

He chuckled. “I’ve known that since the day I met you,” he said. “It doesn’t mean you don’t deserve protection.” His eyes

stayed on mine. “From what I can tell, you’ve always been the one protecting those around you—you’ve never been taken care

of.”

“My parents took care of me once,” I whispered, without quite meaning to.

“I’m so sorry, Raven.” The words were so soft I felt them like a caress over my skin.

“Everyone in the Lower Sector has a sad story.”

“That doesn’t mean that yours doesn’t mean anything.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“And what about your story?” I forced the words past the tightness in my throat before the memories of my parents could choke

me. “What was your father like?”

Vale shook his head, pausing for almost a full minute, seeming to weigh whether he wanted to answer. He took a deep breath,

his jaw clenching. Eventually, he let out a sigh.

“I loved my father very much.” Vale’s voice came out fragile.

“When I was a child, he was like the sun. Bright and happy and bursting with light. In the safety of our home, he would tell me of the kindness of all people—how the only thing that separated us from those in the Lower Sector was the number of credits in our account. That we could easily be in their situation instead of ours and that we needed to help each other.”

Vale’s face thawed beneath his vulnerability, his brow smoothing out and his full lips softening.

“But as I grew older,” Vale continued, “I noticed he only said those things when my mother wasn’t around. They had completely

different beliefs. It all made sense to me when he confessed to being a rebel, but I still have a hard time reconciling myself

to the fact that my mother supports this system.”

“Do you think your mother would have turned your father in to the guards if she’d known?” I couldn’t imagine having to hide

such a big part of myself from a life partner.

“I think she would have,” Vale whispered. “She never had the chance to do it, but somehow, I can’t forgive her anyway. And

yet I’m doing the same as my father did—I’m too cowardly to challenge her beliefs to her face.”

“It’s not always as easy as doing what you know is right,” I whispered. “I always knew being a bounty hunter wasn’t right—but

letting Jed starve wouldn’t have been right, either.”

“You didn’t have another choice.” Vale rubbed a hand up and down my arm.

“Still. There are things I would’ve done differently. Fears I would’ve faced.”

“You would have,” Vale agreed, nodding. “Endlock has changed you.”

He was right.

I’d spent the years before my arrest pushing everyone away just to face my biggest fear and have it bring more community into

my life than I’d imagined I could have again.

They made me want to live , instead of just surviving.

And together, we’d become the first to leave Endlock.

“There’s no way I’ll give Larch the satisfaction of letting this place kill me.” I smirked. “I can’t wait until we get out of here. My only regret is that I won’t see the look on his face when he realizes we’ve bested him.”

Vale chuckled, but the sound cut off abruptly, and I watched how his eyes flicked to the top of my camisole and then away

so quickly I almost missed the movement. He sucked in a sharp breath, and when I looked down, I noted how the water from my

wet hair had soaked the already-thin fabric, leaving little to the imagination.

His eyes darkened, and I knew we were both thinking about what had happened in the workshop a few nights ago.