Prompt: the price of freedom

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I seem to really lean towards writing about Corvus and Mars with these prompts and today is no exception.

In the days before Mars, when he'd first been cursed, Corvus spent a lot of time in his bird form, wondering how much he would pay, what he would sacrifice to get his freedom back. Anaximander had him under control - mostly. He could force Corvus into that shape, keep him from being hum, and make him do his bidding, but he couldn't break Corvus's will. One hundred years later and Corvus still fought back before he did what he was commanded. Like he'd fought over Mars.

He didn't mean to let on that Mars meant something to him, but after decades of refusing to get close to anyone, suddenly cozying up to someone new was a giant red flag to Anaximander. It meant Mars was different. Mars was special. Corvus had been drawn to him, and Anaximander wanted to know why. In his human form Corvus stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, and wiped the mirror clear. On his chest above his heart was what looked like a tattoo, that of a bird in a cage. Corvus passed a hand over it and sighed, the sound deep as though he'd pulled it up from his toes and dragged it through hell before issuing it from his mouth.

He could only hope that the price of his freedom wasn't Mars's life. If it was, he'd rather remain in that cage for eternity.

Writing about Corvus gives me feels.