Chapter 194: Beginning of a trap
The holding facility wasn’t a dungeon in the old sense, modern concrete walls, reinforced glass panels, and the steady hum of fluorescent lights gave it a sterile, almost clinical air. But the effect was the same. It smelled faintly of disinfectant and metal, and the silence pressed in like a vice.
NovelFire
Misty sat on the edge of the narrow cot in her cell, a state-issued gray hoodie drowning her frame, her hair limp and unwashed. The cuffs around her wrists weren’t iron shackles but sleek black restraints with blinking security nodes. She flinched at every sound beyond the reinforced door, the shift of boots in the hall, the murmur of guards exchanging words.
She heard him before she saw him. The cadence of his steps was unmistakable, measured, deliberate, each one a reminder that he had no reason to rush.
Correct content is on NovelFire)
The reinforced door sealed behind him with a quiet hiss, and the faint vibration of the locking mechanism seemed louder than it should have been in that sterile little room. Caelan’s presence filled the space, not with noise or threat, but with the kind of weight that made Misty’s breath catch.
The man who stood there was immaculate, with crisp lines of his coat, polished shoes that caught the strip light above, and that controlled fall of brown hair with just a dusting of silver at the temples. Power radiated from him, cold and effortless, a far cry from the restless, searching young man she had once entangled herself with.
"Misty."
Her name was spoken evenly, not as a greeting, but more like a verdict.
She shifted on the cot, the restraints at her wrists clicking softly. "You... you came yourself," she said, trying for steadiness but hearing the tremor anyway.
Caelan moved closer, each step slow and measured. "I like to see certain things with my own eyes." His gaze swept over her disheveled hair, the inmate uniform, and the bare face stripped of jewels and polish. "You’ve... adapted to your surroundings."
Misty’s chin lifted slightly, a flash of old pride surfacing even through the fear. "How do you feel, Caelan? How do you feel knowing that now everybody knows what I did? Your little image, which you care so much about, is gone."