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And now Tavi’s care had been upgraded because of Daven. Because Daven had decided it. He had touched the one part of Ryneth’s life that had never belonged to anyone else.

He grunted at the stupid, impossible dream. He’d wanted to learn how to make walls that held. Reinforcements that didn’t fail. Housing that didn’t crack in winter. He’d wanted to rebuild the Ward so boys like Tavi never had to sleep one leak away from freezing.

But right now, right here, he felt so small that he’d do anything to be back home. Working in the docks, or in the mines, or in the refinery, it meant not talking to others much. It meant being insignificant.

Ryneth had accepted being insignificant. He could even have survived being a prisoner, no matter how awful that sounded. If it was to put him to work somewhere, it would have just been the same shit, different scene.

But this…

Daven terrified him. Men had always backed off once his static showed its teeth. Daven only came closer.

Daven was handsome and he knew it. He was privileged and he knew it. He was stronger, and he fucking knew it. The way his air trapped Ryneth’s static, the way his strong hips rolled against his own, trembling ones.

Daven had been his first real kiss. His first real fuck.

Ryneth rolled over and bit his fist to prevent himself from breaking down. He waited for the static to rise, to shield him the way it always had. Needed the tearing pressure behind his eyes, the familiar grind that had greeted him every morning since he was twelve.

But it didn’t come.

Lifting his head, he looked around the bedroom, taking it in properly for the first time since he had arrived on Helion. No one was watching him. No one was waiting to escort him somewhere. No one was there to claim him.

For the first time since he’d arrived, it felt like he had a choice.

He could just get up and leave, couldn’t he?

The thought didn’t even feel real.

Even in the empty room, some part of him was already waiting for Daven to come back.

He scanned the room, eyes moving from the balcony doors to the empty bathroom and down the hall beyond.

“Daven,” he called again.

His gaze snagged on the coffee table at the far end of the room.

No.

“What the fuck?”

He shoved the sheets aside, ignored the ache in his body, and crossed the room fast.

The holochip. Mara’s holochip.

Ryneth thought he’d lost it after his captivity. But there it lay.

Ryneth lifted the small metal disc and studied it.

He still couldn’t believe the Imperial prince had used his little brother’s disease to get exactly what he wanted.

A public statement.

The words sat wrong in his chest. Daven had said them like a promise, like a threat, like something already decided. Ryneth didn’t fully understand Helion’s rules yet, but he understood enough to know that public meant visible. It meant people talking. It meant becoming something in front of everyone before he even knew what name they’d give it.

Ryneth turned the chip over in his hand.

At first, the back looked smooth. Then thin lines of silver began to crawl across the metal, surfacing like something waking beneath the surface.

He froze.