Chapter120

Deborah's POV

As the door clicked shut behind us, it felt like the rest of the world had been sealed away. Inside the room, it was just Chad and me.

The room wasn't large. A small armchair stood near the window, bathed in a sliver of moonlight slipping through the curtains. I settled into the seat, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to steady the turmoil within.

Chad crossed the room without hesitation, his gaze briefly sweeping over the furnishings before he perched on the armrest of the chair. His casual posture contrasted sharply with the intensity of my thoughts, and I instinctively leaned away from him, creating a small gap between us.

"Be careful," he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. "The walls might have ears."

I blinked, caught off guard by his warning. He sat so still, his expression unreadable, yet his words carried an undeniable weight. After a moment's hesitation, I inched closer, narrowing the gap I had just created. If I had brought him here, it meant I trusted him—at least for now.

"If you have questions, ask," he said, breaking the silence. His tone was calm, almost indifferent. "If there's something you want to know, say it."

I hesitated, then decided to start with something that had been lingering in the back of my mind. "When did you find out that Mary was your mother?"

Chad tilted his head slightly, his arms resting loosely in front of him. My question didn't seem to faze him in the least. "When does anyone 'find out' who their mother is?" he replied with a slight shrug. "She was always my mother."

His nonchalant tone caught me off guard. It sounded so simple, as though the answer was self-evident.

"So, you've always known your mother was a werewolf?" I pressed, curious to see how he would respond.

He snorted softly, the sound carrying a faint note of amusement. "Is that supposed to be some kind of shameful secret? There's no reason to hide being a werewolf."

His casual dismissal only deepened my confusion. It didn't seem like he was pretending, yet I couldn't reconcile his attitude with the man I had known in my past life. Back then, Chad had never once mentioned his mother—or his father, for that matter. Family simply wasn't part of the person he had shown me.

"And your father?" I ventured, testing the waters further.

This time, his lips curved into a faint, teasing smile. "You seem really interested in my background," he said, his voice laced with humor. "What's the matter? Taken an interest in me?"

The playful tone of his question momentarily threw me off balance. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. He chuckled lightly, waving off his own comment.

"Relax," he said, his amusement evident. "I'm joking. But since we're on the subject of family, tell me about your mother. What was she like?"

The question caught me off guard, though his tone carried an unexpected sincerity. It wasn't often that we spoke about anything personal.

"My mother?" I echoed, the memories surfacing before I could stop them. "You know she was a witch."

He nodded, his gaze steady, as if waiting for me to elaborate. "Did she pass on any… special skills?"

"Special skills?" I echoed, my confusion evident.

"I've heard that members of your family each have their own hidden abilities," he said. His voice was calm, yet his words carried an undercurrent of curiosity. "Animacommunicatio, Telepathy, things like that. It's like a mystery box—every member of your family gets something unique."

So, Telepathy was considered a hidden skill. The realization gave me pause. After a moment, I shook my head. "I wouldn't know," I admitted. "My mother didn't teach me much magic."

Chad's lips twitched into a knowing smile, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "But I know you're pretty good at Teleportation. Blink, and you vanish."

I couldn't help but laugh softly, playing along. "You think Teleportation is my hidden skill?"

"Who knows?" he said with a laugh, the sound deep and rich. After a moment, his expression grew more serious. "But I do have some good news for you."

"What is it?" I asked, watching him closely.

"Next week, I'm heading down to the surface for an inspection," he explained, his voice measured. "I might be able to get Matthew out of Sky City and back to Tirfothuinn while I'm there."

His words struck me like a bolt of lightning. I straightened, my breath catching in my throat. "You… you're really going to do that?"

He nodded, his calm demeanor unwavering, though there was an unmistakable determination in his eyes.

"Why?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. "Why are you helping us?"

"There's no 'why.'" His voice was steady, devoid of hesitation. "It's because I can."

For a moment, I was speechless. The man before me felt so different from the Chad I remembered—so different from the one I had blamed, mistrusted, and resented. Despite everything, his actions now spoke louder than words. Whatever his reasons, he was helping us. And I couldn't ignore that.

After that night, Chad became a familiar presence in my room. I began inviting him over more often, not just to talk but to learn. He shared information about the Sky Cities Coalition Forces' plans, his calm and collected demeanor a stark contrast to the urgency of our situation.

True to his word, he managed to get Matthew out of Ablach and back to Tirfothuinn. It was a feat I hadn't dared to believe possible, yet he had done it. I couldn't deny that my perception of him was changing. Whatever his motives, he was proving himself to be a valuable ally.

But then, one day, I overheard a conversation among the house staff. Their whispered words stopped me in my tracks.

"Did you hear? Chad's been injured. They brought him back to Ablach," one of them said.

"He's in the hospital," another added.

I froze. My mind raced, my heart pounding in my chest.

Chad was injured. Why? Was it because of the Sky Cities' plans? Or had he gotten hurt helping Matthew escape?

I didn't know the answer, but one thing was certain—I had to see him.