Chains.
Dark metal glints in the low light, heavy links whispering against each other as he steps back toward me. Instinct makes me retreat, but the wards flare and lock my feet in place before I can get more than a single step.
“Wait, what are you doing?” My voice spikes.
“Precaution,” Scar says simply, already moving behind me. The metal closes around my wrists with a cold, solid click.
The moment it touches my skin, an ache flares.
Not intense.
Not painful.
But enough to sting.
I hiss, jerking against the restraint. “Jesus, what the hell is on these things?”
Scar stills, eyes sharpening as he watches the faint red marks bloom where the metal rests. “Interesting.”
“Interesting?” I snap, breath hitching as the sting fades into a low, persistent ache. “It fucking burns!”
“They’re just iron,” he says, voice quiet, thoughtful now instead of detached.
“Then why do they sting?” My pulse pounds harder, unease crawling up my spine.
His gaze lifts slowly to meet mine, something colder settling behind his eyes. “That…” he murmurs, “… isexactlywhat we want to know.”
The chains settle into place, not tight enough to cut circulation but firm enough that I can’t slip free, the metal cool and heavy against my skin as the wards hum louder in response.
“Tonight, you stay here,” he continues, tone returning to businesslike calm. “Locked secure. Exactly where the prez can find you when he’s ready to ask better questions.”
The door starts to swing closed, and I lunge forward, driven by terror and desperation in equal measure. My hands hit wood with enough force to send pain shooting up both arms, chains rattling sharply against the movement, but I don’t care, because that door closing means darkness, isolation, and being trapped in stone that swallows sound like water.
“Wait! Please. I’m hurt. I need medical attention. At least let someone look at my ribs, at my head—”
“Ivy will check on you tomorrow if the prez allows it.” Scar’s expression doesn’t change—sympathy or mercy apparentlynotincluded in whatever he’s capable of feeling. “Until then, try not to bleed out. Would hate to waste a perfectly interesting mystery on something as mundane as a head trauma.”
The door slams shut with finality that echoes through my chest like a physical blow. I hear the lock engage, multiple mechanisms clicking into place with sounds that promise there is no picking this open, no forcing it from the inside. Then footsteps, Scar’s boots on stone, fading as he ascends the stairs and leaves me alone in the darkness.
The bulb overhead flickers once.
Twice.
Then stabilizes into weak illumination that barely pushes back the shadows gathering in corners.
I press my back against the door, sliding down until I’m sitting on freezing stone, chains clinking at my feet on the floor, and finally, I let the tears come. They’re hot against my cheeks, burning tracks through dried blood and exhaustion until I’m crying over the crash, over the dead hunter, over my destroyed car and shattered phone, over every stupid decision that led me to this mountain at this exact moment in time.
But mostly, I’m crying because I’m absolutely, unequivocally terrified.
Not the adrenaline-fueled terror of the crash or the ice man’s fury. This is deeper, colder, the bone-deep recognition that I’m trapped somewhere no one knows to look for me, held by creatures that shouldn’t exist, and nobody is coming to save me because nobody even knows I need saving.
The crying doesn’t last long. Exhaustion steals my tears before they can provide any real relief, leaving me hollow and shaking against the door. My ribs throb with each breath, my head pounds like something is trying to crack my skull from the inside, and the cold seeping up through the stone is already working its way into my bones despite my jacket.
I need to move.
I need to do something besides sit here and wait for whatever the hell comes next.
The cot calls to me with promises of rest, but I force myself to my feet instead, using the door for support as the room tilts dangerously. My vision swims, black spots dancing at the edges, but I breathe through it until the vertigo passes enough that I can shuffle forward without falling.