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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. Everyone knows you're a target now. Pretty face, no alliance, walking around like you think rules apply to you."
I set the tray down. Turn to face him. "What are you offering?"
He leans in. "Protection. Core Zone access. A pass that says you're under Vane family interest. No one touches you without going through me first."
"And what do you want?"
His grin sharpens. "You. On my arm. At the Sector Review next week. Let people see we're together."
There it is. He doesn't want protection—he wants ownership. A trophy. The pretty girl who chose him.
I should say no. I should walk away. But I can feel eyes on us already. Lila's probably watching from somewhere, taking notes. Cain's mark is burning under my sleeve and I don't know what it means yet. I need time. I need cover.
I need Marcus to think he's winning.
"Okay," I say.
His eyes light up. "Yeah?"
"One condition." I step closer, drop my voice. "I'm not your pet. I go where I want, talk to who I want. You get me into Core Zone and you don't ask questions."
He's nodding before I finish. "Deal. Fuck, Ivy, you have no idea how good this is going to be."
I smile. Let him see dimples. "Show me the pass first."
He pulls it out right there—an actual Core Zone day pass, embossed with the Vane family seal. It's real. He's been carrying it around waiting for me to say yes.
I take it. Feel the weight. This thing's worth more than half the Threshold Zone's weekly rations combined.
"We're good?" Marcus asks.
I tuck the pass into my pocket. "We're good."
He wants to kiss me. I can see it in the way he's leaning, the way his hand starts to lift. I turn before he can, pick up my tray, and walk toward the seating area.
He follows. Of course he does.
The cafeteria's watching now. I can feel the attention like heat on my skin. I pick a table near the center—not hidden, not safe. Marcus sits next to me, close enough that anyone looking will draw conclusions.
I let him.
I eat slow. Let him talk. He's going on about the Sector Review, about who's going to be there, about how people are going to lose their minds when they see us together. I nod in the right places. Laugh once. Let my hand rest on the table where his can almost touch it.
Across the cafeteria, Cain's sitting with two other Core Zone fighters. He's not eating. He's watching.
I meet his eyes for half a second. Then I lean into Marcus, just a little. Let my shoulder press against his. Let Marcus's hand find my wrist—the one without the mark.
Cain's jaw locks. He's holding a metal cup and I watch his fingers tighten. The cup crumples. Slow. Like he doesn't even notice he's doing it.
Marcus is still talking. I tune back in.
"—take you to the Undercroft later. You'll love it. Real music, real food, none of this Threshold Zone shit."
"Sounds good," I say. I'm still watching Cain. He stands. Walks out. Leaves the crushed cup on the table.
I feel something twist in my chest and I shove it down. This is the play. Marcus is the shield. Cain is—
Cain is the one who killed me last time.
I turn my full attention back to Marcus. Smile wider. "When do we leave?"
He grins like he just won the whole academy. "Tonight. I'll meet you at the Threshold-Core border gate. Eight sharp."
"I'll be there."
He squeezes my hand and stands, riding high on whatever he thinks this is. I watch him leave. The cafeteria's still buzzing, people leaning together, whispering.
I finish my fake coffee. It tastes like rust.
My wrist aches again. I check under the sleeve when no one's looking. The mark's still there. It looks like script but I can't read it. It's not any language I know.
I think about Cain's wrist. Same mark. Same burn.
I think about the way he looked at me when Marcus touched my hand.
I stand and dump my tray. Walk out before anyone else can corner me.
—
Lila's office isn't really an office. It's a storage room in the old Sector C wing that she turned into a black market brokerage. She's got files stacked on metal shelves, contracts in locked drawers, and a scanner that's probably older than both of us.
She's alone when I walk past—I don't go in, just glance through the door that's cracked open. She's reading something. Flipping pages slow, her face unreadable.
I keep walking. I don't need her seeing me right now.
But later that night, after I've changed into something that'll work for Core Zone and I'm halfway to the border gate, I think about Lila's face. The way she was reading those pages.
Like she found something that changed the game.
—
In her office, Lila flips the last page of the contract manifest.
She sits back. Stares at the name at the bottom.
The death rights contract for Ivy Gray was filed two days ago. Signed, notarized, and logged into the Hunting Registry.
Buyer: Cain Locke.
Lila laughs once, short and sharp. She closes the file.
"Oh, this is going to be a fucking mess," she says to the empty room.