"Let's retreat," I said, backing away from the ridge.
Isaac's head snapped toward me. "Why? We know how many they are. We can—"
"We don't know shit," I cut him off. "We can see six people from here. That doesn't mean there aren't twenty more sleeping in those buildings. We go in blind, we die."
"Let me go," David said suddenly.
Isaac and I both looked at him.
"I'll walk in," David continued, his voice steady. "Hands up. Unarmed. If they're hostile, you cover me from the ridge. If they're friendly, I make contact and report back."
I stared at him. Six weeks ago, this kid was sobbing in a cage. Now he was volunteering to walk into an armed camp alone.
Part of me was impressed. The other part knew exactly why he was doing it.
Sophie. Mia's friend. He wanted to be the hero who brought her back.
"No," I said flatly.
"Jack—"
"It's too dark. Too many unknowns. We could lose track of you in the valley and shoot you by mistake." I looked him dead in the eyes. "Unless you want to be a stupid hero and get everyone killed."
David's jaw clenched, but he didn't argue.
"We come back," I said. "In daylight. With a real plan. Let's go."
We headed back through the jungle in silence.
---
The cave was dark and quiet when we returned. Everyone was asleep—except Martha.
She was sitting on a crate near the underground entrance, a lantern burning low beside her. When she heard us coming through the passage, she stood up and unlatched the heavy wooden door from inside.
The warm light from her lantern spilled across the tunnel as we climbed through.
"Everyone's asleep," she said quietly. "How did it go?"
Isaac and David moved past her without speaking, heading toward their sleeping areas in the main chamber. They were exhausted and frustrated.
I stayed.
"Terrible," I said, setting the rifle against the wall. "We found a girl matching Sophie's description. Brown hair, slim build. Sitting by the fire, talking and laughing."
Martha's eyebrows rose. "Laughing?"
"Like she was at a dinner party. Not a prisoner. Not scared. Comfortable."
"So she chose to be there."
"Looks like it."
Martha was quiet for a moment. "What do you plan to do?"
I rubbed my eyes. The exhaustion hit me all at once—hours of hiking, the tension of the night scout, the frustration of not having answers.
"I don't know yet," I admitted. "Martha, do yourself a favor and go to sleep."
Something shifted in her expression. The concern hardened into something else.
"You're pushing me away," she said.
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are." She stepped closer, the lantern light catching the lines of her face. "Every time something real happens, you shut me out. You'll talk to Chloe. You'll disappear with Rachel. But with me, you put up walls."
"Martha—"
"Is it because I'm not like the other women?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly. "Because I won't just drop to my knees and call you master? Because I actually challenge you?"
I looked at her. Really looked at her.
The lantern light softened her features—the sharpness of her jaw, the tension in her shoulders. Her eyes were bright and fierce and vulnerable all at once. Her hair was loose, falling around her face. She was wearing a thin cotton shirt that did nothing to hide the shape of her body—full breasts, narrow waist, the kind of curves that came with age and experience.
She was beautiful. She'd always been beautiful. But right now, standing in the dim tunnel with her guard completely down, she was stunning.
"That's exactly why," I said quietly.
She blinked. "What?"
"The reason I haven't pushed you is because you're the only one worth waiting for."
Her breath caught. Her eyes went wide. Her lips parted slightly.
Then she sat on my lap.
Not hesitantly. Not shyly. She sat down like she'd made a decision and nothing in the world was going to stop her.
Her ass settled against my thighs, warm and solid. Her hands came up to my chest, her fingers pressing flat against my skin. I could feel her heartbeat through her palms—fast and erratic.
"I've spent weeks hating you," she whispered, her face inches from mine. "Weeks telling myself you're a monster. Weeks pretending I don't lie awake at night thinking about you."
"And?"
"And I'm tired of pretending."
She leaned in and kissed me.
Not soft. Not gentle. Not tentative.
She kissed me like she was trying to destroy every argument she'd ever made against wanting me. Her lips were warm and firm, her tongue pushing into my mouth with a desperation that surprised us both.
I kissed her back immediately, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her harder against me. She moaned into my mouth—a sound so raw and honest it made my cock throb against her ass.
My hands slid up her back, pulling her closer. Her breasts pressed against my chest, soft and full through her thin shirt. Her hips ground against me instinctively—feeling my cock hardening beneath her.
For ten seconds, we were just two people who had been fighting this for far too long.
Then she pulled back.
Her eyes were wide. Her lips were swollen and wet. Her chest was heaving.
"I..." she started.
"Don't," I said. "Don't ruin it by overthinking."
She stared at me, her breathing ragged. I could see the war happening behind her eyes—desire fighting duty, need fighting principle.
"You've changed," she said quietly. "Or maybe I have. I spent so long fighting you that I forgot... you're the reason we're all still alive."
"I know," I said.
She almost laughed. "And there's the arrogance."
"It's not arrogance if it's true."
She looked at me for a long moment—her expression soft and complicated and beautiful.
Then she stood up from my lap.
"Goodnight, Jack," she said.
"Goodnight, Martha."
She walked toward the main chamber. At the tunnel entrance, she stopped and looked back at me over her shoulder.
"That kiss doesn't change anything," she said.
"Yes, it does," I said.
She didn't argue. She just turned and disappeared into the darkness.
And we both knew I was right.
---
Morning light filtered through the cave entrance, casting pale gold across the stone walls.
Chloe appeared in my chamber doorway carrying a wooden bowl of food and a cup of herb tea.
"Morning, sweetheart," she said, her voice bright.
"Morning," I said, sitting up on the cot. I was shirtless, the blanket pooled around my waist. Chloe's eyes traced my chest appreciatively as she set the food on the table beside the cot.
I reached out and grabbed her ass with both hands, squeezing firmly.
She yelped, nearly spilling the tea. "At least let me drop the food first!"
She set the cup down carefully, then turned to face me with a smirk. But the smirk faded quickly, replaced by something more serious.
"Isaac and David left this morning," she said. "Before dawn."
I froze. "What?"
"They suited up and headed out. Said you gave them orders last night—a capture and observe mission at the settlement."
"I didn't give that order."
Chloe's face went pale. "Jack—"
"How long ago?" I was already on my feet, pulling on pants, grabbing the tactical vest from the hunters' supplies.
"Maybe two hours. I thought it was strange, but Isaac said—"
"Isaac doesn't give orders. I give orders." I grabbed the Glock, checked the chamber, and tucked it into my waistband. Then the hunting rifle, slung over my shoulder. Extra magazines in my vest pockets.
"What do we do?" Chloe asked, her voice tight.
"You stay here. Protect the women. All of them."
"Jack—"
"If I'm not back by nightfall, you take everyone deeper into the cave and seal the underground entrance. Don't open it for anyone. Understand?"
She stared at me, her jaw clenched, tears forming in her eyes. But she nodded.
"I'll be back," I said.
Then I ran.
---
I moved through the jungle fast, following the trail markers Isaac had set two days ago. The morning sun was climbing, casting long shadows through the canopy.
My mind was racing.
Why would they go without me? David's motivation was obvious—Sophie. He wanted to bring her back for Mia. Wanted to be the hero. The brave one.
But Isaac? Isaac was smarter than that. He wouldn't disobey a direct order. Unless David had convinced him the order existed.
That little shit.
I covered the four miles to the ridge in just over an hour, pushing hard, sweat pouring down my back.
When I reached the observation point, I dropped to my stomach and crawled to the ridge.
The settlement was below, bathed in morning light. The fires had burned down to embers. People were moving around—the same armed men, the same routine.
And there, in the center of the clearing, was David.
On his knees.
Shirtless.
His hands were bound behind his back. Two broad-shouldered men stood on either side of him, holding his arms. His pants had been pulled down to his ankles.
And standing in front of him was the old woman.
She was heavyset, maybe sixty, with gray hair pulled back in a severe bun. She wore practical clothing—a long skirt and a heavy shirt. But there was nothing frail about her. She stood with the authority of someone who was used to being obeyed without question.
She was holding something metallic in her hands.
I raised the rifle scope and focused.
A cage. A small metal cage with a padlock attachment.
She knelt down in front of David—who was struggling, his face twisted in panic—and she fitted the cage over his cock. The metal encased him completely. Then she produced a small padlock, threaded it through the cage's clasp, and clicked it shut.
David screamed. The men holding him tightened their grip.
The old woman stood up and tucked the key into a leather pouch hanging from a cord around her neck. She patted David's cheek almost gently. Then she turned and walked away.
David was dragged toward one of the buildings, still struggling, his caged cock swinging between his legs as they hauled him away.
"Jesus Christ," I whispered.
A hand touched my shoulder.
I nearly shot Isaac in the face.
"Don't do that," I hissed, lowering the Glock from his temple.
"Sorry," Isaac whispered, his face pale and sweating. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Jack, you need to hear this."
"I can see it," I said, my voice tight. "David's been captured and they put a cage on his cock. What the fuck happened?"
Isaac swallowed hard. "It was David's idea. He convinced me you'd given the order—said you told him privately last night. I believed him." He looked sick with guilt. "I'm sorry, Jack. I should have confirmed with you directly."
"Yeah, you should have." I glared at him. "What else did you see?"
Isaac's eyes were wide. "When David walked in, they didn't attack him immediately. They surrounded him calmly. The old woman came out and talked to him. Asked questions. He answered—told them about us, about Mia, about looking for Sophie."
My jaw clenched. "He told them about us."
"Everything. How many we are. Where we live. All of it."
"That stupid—"
"But here's the thing, Jack." Isaac grabbed my arm. "After she got the information she wanted, she gave an order. And the men stripped David and caged him. Like it was routine. Like they'd done it a hundred times."
"And?"
"Look at the other men," Isaac said. "Look carefully."
I raised the scope again and studied the men moving around the compound. Isaac was right. Now that I knew what to look for, I could see it—the way they walked, slightly bowlegged, with an uncomfortable hitch in their step. The way their loose pants couldn't quite hide the outline of metal underneath.
The way they deferred to every woman in the settlement. Eyes down. Voices quiet. Moving out of the way when a woman passed.
Every single man in the compound was wearing a cock cage.
"The old woman controls everything," Isaac whispered. "She decides who eats, who works, who sleeps where. She controls the men by controlling their dicks. She has the only key."
"All the men?"
"Every one of them. I watched for an hour before you got here. Not a single man makes a decision without looking at a woman first. They're not soldiers or guards—they're servants. Workers. The women run everything."
I lowered the rifle and sat back against the tree.
A matriarchy. A female-dominated society where men were literally caged and controlled. The exact opposite of everything I'd built.
"And Sophie?" I asked.
Isaac hesitated. "Sophie's... she's not a prisoner, Jack. She's practically the old woman's right hand. I saw them talking, laughing together. Sophie gives orders to some of the men. She looks... comfortable. Happy."
"Happy," I repeated flatly.
"She chose this," Isaac said quietly. "She saw what the world does when men are in charge—the hunters who captured her and Mia—and she chose the opposite."
I stared at the settlement below. At David on his knees somewhere inside those buildings, freshly caged. At the old woman with her key around her neck. At Sophie sitting comfortably by the morning fire.
"No fucking way," I muttered.
Isaac looked at me. "What do we do?"
I was quiet for a long moment. Thinking.
David was captured. He'd given away our position, our numbers, everything. The old woman now knew we existed. She knew where to find us. She knew there were women in our group.
And she had David as a hostage.
"We can't attack," I said. "Not without knowing their full numbers and defenses."
"We can't leave David either," Isaac said.
"No," I agreed. "We can't."
I looked at the compound one more time. At the watchtower. At the armed men—caged but still carrying weapons. At the buildings that could hide any number of people.
"We need to negotiate," I said.
Isaac stared at me. "Negotiate? With the woman who just put a metal cage on David's dick?"
"She didn't kill him," I said. "She caged him. That's control, not murder. She wants obedience, not corpses."
"So?"
"So she's rational. She has a system. Rules. Structure. That means she can be reasoned with." I paused. "Or manipulated."
"And if she can't?"
I checked the Glock's magazine. Full.
"Then we do it the other way."
I stood up, brushing dirt from my clothes.
"Go back to the cave," I told Isaac. "Tell the women what happened. Tell Chloe to keep everyone inside and ready to move. And tell Mia..."
I paused.
"Tell Mia that Sophie is alive. And that I'm going to bring both of them home."
Isaac stared at me. "You're going down there? Alone?"
"Not alone," I said, looking toward the jungle behind us.
Somewhere in the shadows, I could hear heavy breathing. The soft crunch of massive paws on dead leaves.
Goliath stepped out of the brush, his dark eyes locked on mine.
"I've got backup," I said.
Isaac looked at the bear. Then at me. Then at the settlement below.
"You're insane," he said.
"Probably," I agreed. "Now go. Before they spot us."
Isaac hesitated for one more moment. Then he turned and disappeared into the jungle, heading back toward the cave.
I looked at Goliath. The bear huffed, his massive head tilting slightly.
"Ready?" I asked.
He huffed again.
I started walking down the ridge, toward the settlement, the Glock in my waistband and the rifle on my shoulder.
The old woman wanted to cage men and control them through their dicks.
She hadn't met me yet.