It wasn't every day someone saw a scene like this, so such a reaction was one that could be warranted, but... Rowan wasn't just someone. He was the son of a cruel and sadistic woman who had exposed him to far worse than just the aftermath of death. Rowan was no stranger to scenes like this, his reaction to the one that took place in his mother's office where we were both present was evidence of that, but...
It wasn't the gore that had him in such a state. It was the pair of broken chains that were bolted to the ground that had all the blood draining from his face.
The iron chains as he had noted.
I shrugged, unease giving a sharp twist in my gut. "I'm not sure what metal they're made out of," I started, my mind struggling to follow his line of thought, unable to handle having any more surprises sprung on me. "They could-"
A sizzle sounded as Rowan crouched to reach out and gave a link of the chain a touch. Smoke rose from charring flesh as he sucked in a breath and pulled his hand back, the burned skin beginning to heal in seconds.
"Definitely iron. I smelt it the moment I opened the door, I just wasn't expecting..."
"What?" I prompted when his voice trailed off into contemplative silence that had his lips pulling down in a frown as he straightened to a stand again.
"Chains," he answered, his eyes still focused on the metal links.
If I hadn't been so shell-shocked by the discoveries I made in the last few minutes, I might have rolled my eyes. "Them being iron means nothing here, we're not in Faerie."
"No, we're not," he agreed. Pulling his eyes away from the chains, to level them on me. I couldn't help but shiver at the unexpected ice I found in them. It caught me by surprise, making me take a step back.
He stepped forward to close the distance between us that I had widened until our clothes were brushing against one another. Instead of backing down at the intimidation, I lifted my chin and stood my ground.
Until his hand snapped up to wrap his fingers around my neck and squeezed gently in warning. One I should have recognized in the ice that was hardening his eyes before he reached for me. It had been there the last time his hand had struck out for my neck as well.
My hands rose to knock him away, but I was surprised when his loose, yet firm grip didn't budge. It remained, holding me against him. That only had my struggles growing while he pulled me forward until I was pressed flush against him. He bent down for my ear, his lips brushing its outer shell.
"Yet, under the permeating odour of decay, the smell of the burnt flesh and blood of a fae clings to these walls," his anger-laced words were accompanied by a tightening of his fingers that threatened to seal my airway for a fraction of a second before relaxing against the base of my throat where I felt my heart thrashing violently under his hold. I was sure he felt it too.
Pulling his glare away from me, he turned his head to return his focus to the chains on the floor while lost in his thoughts. "Ash. Ash... A-" He started slowly, as though he was trying to place the name before this voice abruptly cut off.
His eyes widened and I felt him stiffen against me, his fingers growing rigid at my throat. It made it easier to pry his fingers away enough to jerk myself free, a faint burn lingered where his unrelenting fingers dragged across my skin. But he couldn't care less, oblivious to everything but the turning cogs of his mind.
While I rubbed at the fading burn and tried to keep tears at bay, Rowan began to pace. Stuck in his head, it was like I was no longer there while he struggled through a mental equation that had a line forming between his brows, one he didn't care to share. At least doing that could have done something to calm my nerves that he had frayed more with a single action than the sight of two bodies had.
