Chapter 5

Berrilyl POV

“You actually need to eat something,” Liah said, lowering herself to the same sitting level as myself. Her calm, steady presence always felt out of place in this hellhole.  

I let out a dry laugh to her words as I gazed at the stale and ugly looking food at my front. 

“What’s the main point? To stay alive so Cage can break me all over again?”  

Liah tilted her head, studying me with those sharp eyes of hers. 

“You’re still here, Berrilyl. That’s the main point of it all.”  

I shook my head and leaned back against the cold, damp wall, with different thoughts running through my head. 

“Surviving isn’t living dear. Not when you’re just a pawn in someone else’s twisted game.”  

Her face softened, but there was a resolve behind it.

 “You’re not just a pawn. You’re stronger than you think of yourself.”  

“Strength doesn’t mean much when you’re locked in a cage,” I snapped, gesturing around the disgusting cell.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? Cage, a man named after the thing he keeps me and others in.”  

Liah smirked faintly at that but didn’t let me derail her.

 “He watches you.”  

That caught me off guard at once.

 “What do you mean?”  

She leaned in, her voice low and cautious, like she was afraid the walls had ears to go tell him.

“He watches you, Berrilyl. You’re different to him. Even if he’d rather swallow glass than admit it.”  

I laughed to get word. 

“He’s obsessed with control, that’s all you should know. Watching me is just another way to remind himself that he has it.”  

“It’s more than that,” she insisted, her tone sharper and harsher now. 

“I’ve seen him with others. There’s cruelty, yes, but there’s no… focus. With you, it’s different.”  

“Different how?” I asked, crossing my arms.  

Liah hesitated, like she was weighing her words carefully, trying to maintain what she says.

“It’s not just anger with you. It’s... interest and something else. Maybe curiosity. And I think it scares him.”  

I laughed, but there was no humor in it.

 “Scares him? Cage Milton doesn’t get scared at all. He’s the one who makes people afraid. He's the one who makes people kill themselves.”  

She sighed, leaning back and staring at me like I was a puzzle she couldn’t quite solve all alone.

 “Do you ever wonder why he chose you? Out of all the people in the world, why you?”  

Her question lingered in the stale air between us both. 

I had wondered, of course, but I never let myself dwell on that. There were no answers in that kind of thinking, only more pain and sorrow.

“Does it even matter?” I muttered.

 “Whatever the reason, it can’t be good atleast.”  

“It matters,” she said firmly. “Because I think you have more power in this situation than you realize of yourself, Berrilyl.”  

That made me laugh again, louder this time.

 “Power? Liah, I’m literally sitting on the floor of a cell and you are here telling me shit. The only power I have is deciding whether or not to choke down whatever garbage he sends me to eat. like... I have never dreamed of eating a stale and ugly looking food.”  

Liah didn’t laugh to my angry words.

 She didn’t even smile to it. She just looked at me with that steady, infuriating calm.

 “Sometimes, power isn’t about where you are or where you belong. It’s about who you are and what you chose of yourself. Cage doesn’t just see you as another prisoner, Berrilyl. You’ve gotten under his skin. And that? That’s power.”  

I stared at her, searching her face for some sign that she was joking or lying, but there was nothing there to confirm my words. Just quiet conviction and so real.  

“Why are you telling me all of this?” I asked finally, with anger running in my veins already.

She hesitated, glancing toward the door.

 “Because I know what it’s like to feel powerless and stuck. And because I think you’re the only one who can stop him.”  

The weight of her words settled over me like a shroud on me. 

Stop him? I couldn’t even protect myself and Owen from him on that day. How the hell was I supposed to stop him now, now that have been caged under him?  

Before I could press her further, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. Liah’s expression shifted instantly, her calm replaced by urgency.  

“Eat,” she said quickly, standing up.

 “Stay strong. You’ll need it.”  

And then she gave me another kind of look, leaving me alone with the tray of food and the weight of everything she’d said.  

I looked down at the food, my stomach churning with unease as the food stink. But Liah was right about one thing before she slept, I would need my strength. Whatever game Cage was playing, I wasn’t going to let him win it, under my very own watch.  

As I forced myself to take a quick bite, the feeling that I was being watched prickled at the back of my neck. I glanced at the bars but saw nothing. Still, the sensation didn’t fade.  

Somewhere in the shadows, I knew he was there watching my every move.

 Watching. Waiting. Before he could strike.

And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if it was fear or anger that burned hotter in my chest.