The chase

Chapter Twenty-Three

MILLIE BROWN

The cold, damp cell was eerily quiet, save for the faint echoes of distant footsteps and the hum of magic in the air. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to be locked up like this—my freedom stripped, the walls closing in. Every breath felt thick and heavy, like breathing through a wet cloth.

At least this time, I wasn't alone. Reed was slumped against the far wall, though I wasn't sure if his company was comforting or just awkward.

"So..." Reed's voice cut through the silence, startling me. I looked over and saw him staring, his expression unreadable.

"So...?" I echoed, unsure of where he was going with this. I had expected we'd sit in silence until the guards dragged us away.

"Allister, huh? What's that like?" he asked with a bored tone, as if he wasn't all that interested but was trying to pass the time.

"What?" I blinked at him, surprised by the question.

"Clara won't stop talking about it," he continued, shrugging. "I don't really care, but she seems obsessed."

I relaxed a little, surprised by the casualness of his question. "It's pretty nice, especially in the winter," I said softly.

"Winter?" He raised a brow, waiting for me to elaborate.

I smiled slightly. "Yeah. During the winter in Allister, the whole town is blanketed in snow. It's like something out of a painting—the streets lined with snow-covered trees, and the mountains in the distance always glowing under the moonlight. There's this one street, right by the old clock tower, where the snow never quite touches the ground. It hovers, like magic suspended in the air... it's beautiful."

"So why'd you leave if it was that beautiful and magical?" Reed asked, his tone indifferent but his eyes curious.

"Because it didn't feel like home anymore," I whispered, my throat tightening at the memory.

The silence returned, heavier this time. Reed shifted against the wall, staring off at nothing. "Why can't you control your magic?" he asked, breaking the quiet.

"What magic?" I asked, turning to him, genuinely confused.

"The one I sucked out of you before it could kill you," he replied matter-of-factly.

I blinked. "That was magic? I don't... I don't know what that was. Everything's so confusing. I just found out my mother was a witch, and now this. Does that make me a witch too?"

"If you inherited the gene, yeah. But it's possible you got your father's traits instead. Was he human?"

"I don't know. Mum never talked about him," I admitted, feeling a pang of loss for the father I never knew.

"Oh," he murmured, his gaze drifting toward the guards patrolling outside the cell. "Your magic felt different though, like it had a life of its own,"

"Huh?"

"It felt pure, untainted. I can't explain it" he says, watching me with hooded eyes.

"Why did you help me back there?"

"Was I supposed to let you die?"

"Maybe, That will be one way to get rid of me." I joke and he bursts out laughing.

"Thank you," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For saving me back there. I don't think I would've made it without you."

Reed shifted uncomfortably, looking away. I could see the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck. He clearly wasn't used to gratitude.