~

I woke up lying down — weird, since I’d gone under tied upright. And the muzzle was gone.

I bolted upright, my vision spotting. My head throbbed, my neck ached where the rod had burned, my fingertips cold to the touch.

I groaned, pressing my forehead to my knees until the lightheadedness faded.

For a second I thought I was thirteen again, about to wake to Thornblade’s voice.

When the black spots were gone, I could see I was still in the same room—only the chair had been removed, replaced by the bed I was in.

I shifted in the bed, a metal frame with the worse excuse for a mattress and blanket ever. That’s when I heard the chain clink against the bed frame.

I was shackled to the floor, wrists and ankles alike. My bare feet were freezing but at least I had a small blanket.

That was the last time I didn’t wear socks during a mission.

I inspected what I was wearing, the muzzle had earlier blocked my vision below. I was wearing a simple black tshirt that fit too tight, my dog tag still on it’s chain around my neck, and boring plain cargo pants that were a few sizes too big.

I swear did they mean to make me look tiny or did the laundry get mixed up?

The metal shackles were heavy and cold against my skin, it hurt to move my right wrist at all from the bone sticking out wrong. I avoided looking at it at all costs.

I sat up in the bed, feet against the cold concrete, it actually grounding me in ways I didn’t think would ever help.

That’s when the door opened yet again. 

Alastor came in again, he had discarded his cloak and pushed up his sleeves. He had a smear of blood on his forearm that definitely wasn’t his, and looked like he had been busy.

“Ah, my little flame is awake.” He grinned expectantly. I scowled, trying to get closer to him but the chains connecting me to the ground were too short to do anything more than sitting up.

“Enjoy the nap?”

I tested my voice. “Go to hell.” It came out raspy but the message clear.

He didn’t seem anything but amused by my now returned stubbornness. In fact, he seemed to thrive on it.

“Do you know why you’re here, Ronan?” He asked, taking slow steps toward my bed as the door locked behind him.

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say you want all us Holder’s dead so you can continue to exploit the Eternal’s relics for money.” I snapped, my wrists grinding against the metal clasps.

 “Ro,” I flinched at the nickname. “I think you’re mistaken. We want you and your little group very much alive.” He said pityingly.

“But…” I was going to ask why, then I remembered why i was even pulled into Thornblade’s army in the first place. 

Thornblade wanted a weapon. One stronger than any other.

I was that weapon.

If Alastor or River could have us under their control, they’d be unstoppable.

Alastor grinned, watching me put the pieces together.

“You can never have us.” I snarled. “You’re a piece of shit for thinking you can ever just use us like we’re fucking objects.” My voice cracked slightly.

I knew what it was like to be used for what you had—and not just because I was the Fire Holder.

And I was not going to feel like that again, and I wouldn’t let any of my friends feel that way either.

Alastor sighed, clipping his walkie talkie off his waistband. “Down ten degrees.” He said into it.

The words hit me harder than the shock rod. “What—no—“

“You give me what I want, your precious Sun Holder doesn’t freeze.” Alastor explained again.

I looked over at the screen, still displaying the camera in the Ice Room. Max shivered more than before, he curled in on himself tighter as the cooling kicked on.

Rage flooded through my body faster than I could tame it.

I lunged at him.

“I swear to every living thing, if you fucking touch him or hurt him you will not live to see the next day.” I told him through gritted teeth, inches from his smug face. My wrists burned against the shackles, my body at a weird angle but I could barely even feel it compared to the anger inside of me.

Alastor took a smooth step back, putting distance between us. He circled around the room once in silence, fiddling with a ring in his hands that I didn’t notice till then.

The silence was worse than him interrogating me.

“You know, we've been watching you for months," he said. "Watching all of you. But you-" His gaze flicked over my arms, the scars, the shackles, the bone that never healed right.

"—you've always been the wild card."

"Good," I snapped, forcing a grin. "Would've been boring otherwise."

He actually smiled. "Oh, I don't mind wild. Wild can be trained."

I spat at his feet.

He flinched, but only for a second. "That temper's gonna get you hurt."

I smiled, slow and shaky. "Everything gets me hurt," I muttered. "Try again."

Alastor took a deep breath. “Your dear Max will freeze if you don’t start cooperating, flame.”

He said flame like it was my name.

Like he owned me and could call me what he wished.

That thought made me grimace.

“I’m not telling you anything.” I said, suddenly smug.

Alastor told me himself he didn’t want to kill any of us—so he wouldn’t kill Max.

I just had to hope that Max could hold on while I chipped away at Alastor’s bravado.