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He crossed around the table and stopped behind me, close enough that I felt him there before he spoke again.

"My hair's probably over it."

"Can I move it?"

"Yes."

His fingers found my braid, lifting it away from my neck and laying it across my shoulder. His hand paused there, a beat too long, close enough to my throat that I felt the warmth of it before he found the small crystal housing at the back of the collar.

A soft click sounded.

The band loosened.

For one strange second nothing else happened.

Then Nykos lifted it away and threw it onto the table hard enough to rattle the plates, like the metal had offended him personally.

Cool air touched the skin beneath it.

There was no burst of power, no sudden pain or blinding rush, just the overwhelming return of something absent long enough that I'd forgotten how much space it occupied.

Life filled the room.

Blood moving beneath skin. Muscle resting around bone. Four heartbeats, each running its own rhythm. Small shifts of breath and tension, warmth from everyone close enough for my awareness to brush against before I pulled it back.

Outside the window, another person passed the house.

A bird moved somewhere near the roof.

Roots spread through the damp soil beneath the garden.

Ashter resting in my room, familiar and strange at once, bound to me tightly enough that finding him inside the flood of sensation felt like finding the edge of a wall in the dark.

My hand twitched toward my wrist anyway, an old habit reaching for warmth that wasn't there to give. I made myself lower it before anyone noticed.

I closed my eyes.

Years of training took over. I didn't chase it. I didn't follow every heartbeat. I let it exist without reaching, breathing slowly until the world settled into something manageable. The men became people at a kitchen table again, instead of four biological systems close enough to unravel if I looked too deeply.

When I opened my eyes, Nykos had dropped back into his chair, arms crossed, glaring at the collar on the table.

I looked at it.

Black crystal and dark metal. Nothing that should have mattered enough to make the pressure building behind my eyes sting.

I blinked.

Absolutely not.

My body had picked an inconvenient moment to get emotional. I reached for my cup and took a drink I didn't need, hoping swallowing would do something useful about the tightness in my throat.

It didn't.

My hand shook when I lowered the cup.

That made me angry.

I had wanted the collar gone. There was no reason to behave as though somebody had handed me back a missing organ. It was a piece of crystal. I was still in the same kitchen, still stuck with the same squad assignment the Council had chosen without consulting me. Nothing fundamental had changed.