Dark Room (Ashen Guards interrogation room)

The interrogation room was cold.

Not in temperature—the Ashen Guard kept their facilities comfortable enough—but in atmosphere. Grey walls. Grey table. Grey light from a fixture that hummed just loud enough to be annoying. Two chairs on one side. One on the other.

Voss sat in the single chair, her silver hand cuffed to the armrest with reinforced binders designed to suppress supernatural abilities. Her other hand was free, but she didn’t move it. She just sat there, leaning back, watching the door with the patience of someone who had done this before.

The door opened.

Alistair walked in.

He didn’t look at her immediately. He set a file folder on the table, pulled out the chair across from her, and sat down. The metal legs scraped against the floor. The sound was loud in the small room.

Then he looked at her.

Voss smiled.

It wasn’t a nice smile. It wasn’t cruel, either. It was the smile of someone seeing an old photograph and remembering things they’d tried to forget.

"Alistair," she said. "You look terrible. Has anyone told you that?"

He didn’t answer.

"Still wearing that same grey jacket? It’s been what, seven years? Eight? You could afford something nicer. I know what they pay senior hunters."

"Voss."

"Miranda," she corrected. "We used to be on a first-name basis, remember? Before all the..." she waved her cuffed hand as much as the binders allowed, "...drama."

Alistair’s face didn’t change. But his jaw tightened. Just a little.

"I’m not here to catch up."

"No," Voss agreed. "You’re here to ask about the pendant. The one your little friend Cora mentioned." She tilted her head. "She’s got fire, that one. Reminds me of someone I used to know."

Alistair opened the file folder. He didn’t look at it. He already knew what was inside. He just wanted his hands to have something to do.

"Cora said you claimed the pendant was with Lucian."

Voss nodded. "I did."

"I asked him. He said he doesn’t have it."

"Of course he said that."

"I also asked his team. They confirmed he wasn’t carrying anything unusual when they left the cave."

Voss’s smile widened. "So you believe them?"

"I believe Lucian isn’t a liar."

Voss laughed. It was short, sharp, and genuine. "Oh, Alistair. You haven’t changed at all, have you? Still trusting people. Still believing the best in them." She leaned forward as much as the cuffs allowed. "That’s what got you into trouble back then, remember? Trusting the wrong person."

Alistair’s hand stopped moving on the folder.

Voss saw it. Her voice softened. Not gentle—nothing about her was gentle—but softer.

"I know you like playing mind games," Alistair said. His voice was even. Controlled. "I know you lie. You did it to me. To the team. To everyone who ever trusted you." He looked up from the folder. His eyes were cold. "I’m going to ask you one more time. No games. No lies. Where is the pendant?"

Voss held his gaze.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the hum of the light.

Then she spoke.

"Look at you," she said quietly. "All rigid. All buttoned up. That day really messed you up, didn’t it?"

Alistair didn’t move.

"You were just a sweet boy back then, Alistair. Do you remember? You used to laugh. You used to make jokes. You were fun." She paused. "You were happy."

"Voss—"

"Let me finish." Her voice didn’t raise. It didn’t need to. "I’m sorry for what happened back then. I truly am. I know people died. I know I was the reason." She looked down at her silver hand. "But I’m not a lap dog, Alistair. I never was. I wanted out of the system. The Ashen Guard takes and takes and never asks what you want. I got tired of being a tool."

Alistair’s hands curled into fists on the table.

"I still regret how it ended between us," Voss continued. "You and me. We were good together. We could have been something. But you were so loyal to the Guard. So loyal to the rules. And it infuriated me."

She looked at him again.

"It still infuriates me."

Alistair slammed his hand on the table.

The sound cracked through the room like a gunshot.

"Shut up." His voice was low. Rough. Not controlled anymore. "Shut the fuck up."

Voss didn’t flinch. She just watched him.

"You destroyed our team." His voice shook. "People died because of you. Because you were selfish. Because you wanted more than you had. You risked everything—their lives, my life—for your greed."

He stood up. The chair scraped back. He didn’t seem to notice.

"So don’t you dare sit there and give me that crap about being sorry. Don’t you dare pretend you regret anything."

He leaned over the table, his face inches from hers.

"Answer the damn question. Where is the pendant?"

Voss stared at him.

For a long moment, she didn’t speak.

Then she smiled again. But this time, there was something different in it. Something almost sad.

"You really don’t know, do you?"

"Know what?"

Voss glanced at the file folder. Then at the door. Then back at Alistair.

"Your rookie. Lucian Vale."

"What about him?"

Voss leaned back in her chair. The cuffs clinked against the armrest.

"He’s not just a Prime Human, Alistair. You’ve seen his file. You’ve read the reports. You know something’s different about him."

Alistair said nothing.

"I saw him fight," Voss said. "Down in that cave. I saw him take on my team and a Glimmertongue at the same time. He didn’t break a sweat. He didn’t even look tired."

She paused.

"He used runes, Alistair. Sealing runes. The kind third-year hunters don’t even learn. And he did it like he was writing his name."

Alistair straightened. His anger was still there, but something else was creeping in. Something colder.

"What are you saying?"

Voss shrugged as much as the cuffs allowed.

"I’m saying your rookie isn’t a rookie. I’m saying he’s hiding something big. And I’m saying that pendant—the one you’re so worried about—might be connected to whatever he’s hiding."

She smiled.

"Or maybe I’m lying. You know how much I love mind games."

Alistair stared at her for a long moment. Then he picked up the file folder, turned, and walked to the door.

"Alistair."

He stopped. Didn’t turn.

"Be careful," Voss said. "That boy isn’t what he seems. And if you get too close, you might get burned."

Alistair opened the door.

"I already got burned once," he said quietly. "I’m not afraid of fire."

He walked out.

The door closed behind him.

Voss sat alone in the grey room, her silver hand glowing faintly under the binders.

"Liar," she murmured to herself. "You’re terrified."

The light hummed.

And somewhere in the Ashen Keep, Alistair walked down a long corridor, his mind racing with questions he didn’t want to ask.