Caged Hearts Novels & Stories

explaining without taking a breath I closed my eyes with fear. “Katie! What happened?” asked Sister Maya while catching her breath. Still catching my breath, I hold Sister Maya with my shaky hands. “There’s a man outside who is trying to get in the orphanage! Sister Maya we need to call the police quick!” “A man?” asked Sister Maya. She looked at me with full of concern and looked at the gate. When she took my hands off of her, I panicked and hid at her back. She opened the gate with no fear and I peeked at her shoulder.

It was love’s last fight. The village square faded, melting back into the cave’s dark. The silence was loud and deafening. They stood in a big cave. The walls glowed soft pink, like a living heart. In the middle, floating, was the Blood Moon’s heart. It was a swirling, beautiful, terrible knot of light, every stolen smile, every memory of love, every joyful moment from their village, all twisted into a desperate, lonely imitation of a heart. It beat with the pounding they heard outside. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Lalong lumakas ang tibok ng aking puso, at sa lapit nya ay pakiramdam ko ay maririnig nya ito. I tried to escape by walking through his side but he put his long broad shoulders to block me, I tried to the other but he then, again, locked me up with his another. Ngayon ay nakakulong ako sa gitna ng kanyang mga bisig, at sya ay nasa harap ko na mariin ang titig sa akin na kagaya kanina, ay parang pinapasok ang kalooban ng aking isip. Gaano man kalakas ang tibok ng puso ko ay nagawa ko pa rin na magtanong sa kanya ng diretso.

She must make up for what she has caused herself. Things weren't going according to her plan. She wanted to expose him, punish him and sent him to jail but seems like she is the one who's in jail, his house. She couldn't help but describe this luxurious penthouse as a jail. Afterall how can a house become a home when we are trapped in it without consent. She felt like a caged bird. No matter if the cage is made of gold or rubies if that makes you feel like hostage. The screeching sound of the car caught her attention and like a curious cat she peeked a little to see the familiar porshe car making its way inside. Her already accelerated heart started beating violently at the mere alert.

Your insights can guide me as I craft the next chapters, making them even more compelling and relatable. In writing “Caged by Him,” I aimed to explore themes of love, struggle, and resilience. Each character is a reflection of real-life complexities, and I hope their journeys inspire you as much as they inspired me while writing. The emotional highs and lows are meant to engage you, to make you feel every triumph and heartache. I believe that stories have the power to connect us, to spark conversations, and to foster understanding. I hope this book does just that.

Any other way, it will affect her life seriously and put her in a perilous position with him. Indeed. You heard it right. He is Caged. He is a prisoner, a bloody prisoner who didn't have cuffs in his hands yet his hands are tied together, more tighter than any chains. He was not able to hold her, at this moment. He needs to stand by a couple of more days or a few hours to do what his heart wants.

************* A message popped up on my phone, waking me up from my short nap, and checking my phone, I realized it was a message from Abel. "Check the FESTERING HEART Crew group." I read the message, and my brows creased. Festering heart? What happened? But I still clicked on the group's interface and read the numerous messages I had ignored for the past four months. Checking the last messages, I realized the members were tearfully wishing themselves goodbye as the drama had finally wrapped up. The director was also sharing gifts with the group, encouraging them to keep in touch as he would alert them when the editing was over.

And beyond them, the tiny pulses of heartbeats of the hidden ones. I hold the silver cage in my mind though even there it burns me, the silver too bright and hard. I force myself to hold onto it. I surround it with droplets of iron, soothing the sting of it's burn. Then, like a mother caresses her angry child, I re-shape.

Captive Heart "You think a cage can break me, Damien?" My voice broke, but the fire in my chest was stronger than his cocky grin. The room was made up of cold stone, dark corners, and chains that clanged every time I breathed. The damp air had the acidic taste of blood and the sweet taste of death. I could hear them. Other people. There are whispers coming from rooms down the hall. Not all of them are human. Damien leaned against the bars and was cocky and lazy. His eyes looked like they were made of liquid silver. "Are you broken?" Elara, no. "I'm here to... change you."

I finished the last stroke of my sketch and when I looked up, I looked right into Lilian's gaze as she leaned against the doorframe. She was holding two cups of coffee, squinting at my sketch behind those black-rimmed glasses. "The wings on the final draft of 'Caged' have three more fractures than the first version." My fingers froze. On the page, the bird's shattered feathers still reached stubbornly upward, exactly like my own heart the night I huddled in the supply room drawing this series. I drank the coffee, its bitter warmth spreading across my tongue. "Fractures are the price of breaking free from the cage, and the cracks let the light in."