Chapter 6 · Borrowed Teeth

The mark stops burning but it doesn't fade. I pull my sleeve down and wrap my hand around my wrist like that'll help. Cain's doing the same thing three feet away, his jaw tight.

We don't talk about it.

I leave the old medical point first. He doesn't follow.

The cafeteria's loud when I walk in—chairs scraping, someone laughing too hard, the smell of burnt protein and fake eggs. I grab a tray. My wrist aches under the sleeve. I don't look at it. If people see a mark they'll ask questions and I don't have answers yet.

Marcus finds me before I finish the food line.

"Ivy." He slides in next to me, close enough his shoulder brushes mine. His voice drops. "Heard you had a rough morning."

I don't ask how he heard. Ironridge doesn't have gossip—it has intelligence networks. I pick up a cup of something brown that might be coffee. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." He's scanning my face like he's cataloging damage. "You look like you fought half the Threshold Zone and won."

"I didn't win. I survived."

"Same thing here." He grins but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Listen. You need backup.