I waited until Nine fell asleep.
He'd curled up on the sofa beside my desk after dinner, head resting in my lap again like it was the only place he ever wanted to be. His face was soft in sleep, lips parted just slightly, the mark at his neck still faintly glowing.
It should have comforted me.
Instead, it twisted something deep inside.
I gently moved his hair away from his temple and just stared at him. Every breath he took felt like something I didn't deserve.
How much of him did I break?
Nyx didn't answer. She sat with me in that silence, ears flattened, her tail wrapped tightly around herself like she couldn't bear the answer either.
He trusted me.
Even when I didn't deserve it.
Even when I was the one who stood there while they touched him. Ordered him. Paraded him around like a perfect, docile thing. Because the boss told me to. Because it was safer. Because I thought if I pretended not to care, I could protect him longer.
But I didn't always protect him, did I?
I remembered the first time I slapped him. It hadn't even been hard. The boss had wanted a display—he wanted to see how obedient Nine would be when I was the one hurting him. And Nine had flinched—but only just. His eyes had gone still, wide, like a frozen lake. And when it was over, he had looked at me and said, "Did I do something wrong, Alpha?"
I had wanted to scream.
Instead, I'd patted his cheek and told him to behave.
And that was only the first time.
Nyx whimpered low in my chest. You didn't have a choice, she said—but even she didn't sound convinced.
I did. I could have said no. I could have risked more. Fought earlier. Refused to play their games.
But I was too afraid.
Too slow.
Too careful.
And now, Nine might never know which parts of himself were real and which parts I helped destroy.
My hand trembled as I stroked his hair, more carefully now. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
He stirred slightly but didn't wake.
"I'm so sorry," I said again, throat tight. "For every time I let it happen. For every time I pretended you weren't in pain. I didn't know how else to keep you alive, but that doesn't make it okay. I let you think obedience was love."
His fingers twitched, curling a little against my thigh.
I swallowed. "But it's over now. I promise, Nine. He's gone. The Supreme Leader is dead. And no one will ever hurt you like that again."
Still no response. But maybe he didn't need one. Maybe, for now, just being here—just feeling my warmth and the quiet honesty in my voice—was enough.
I leaned forward and pressed my lips gently to his temple. "You're safe now," I murmured. "Even from me."
A few minutes later, he stirred fully. His lashes fluttered as his eyes opened, and for a brief second he looked confused.
"Alpha?" he whispered, voice thick with sleep.
"I'm here," I said. "You fell asleep on my lap again."
He blinked at that, then reached up and touched the glowing mark on his neck, as if just remembering it was there.
"Is it still okay?" he asked softly. "That it's glowing?"
I nodded. "It's more than okay."
He hesitated. Then, with his cheek still pressed to me, he said, "You look sad."
"I was just thinking."
He studied me for a moment, then said quietly, "Was it about... before?"
I nodded.
Nine looked down, like he wasn't sure he was allowed to say what he wanted next. "It wasn't your fault," he murmured.
"It wasn't yours either," I said firmly. "Don't carry that for me."
"But I don't hate you," he whispered. "I don't even blame you. I'm still here, aren't I?"
I looked at him, eyes burning. "You shouldn't have to forgive me."
"I already did," he said simply. "A long time ago."
Nyx whimpered again, but this time it was something closer to relief.
Nine's voice dropped even softer. "You were the only one who talked to me like I was real. Even when you were pretending not to care. Even when you hurt me. I always knew your voice. It sounded different. Like it didn't want to say the words it had to say."
I closed my eyes and took a shaking breath.
He reached up then, hesitant but deliberate, and placed one small hand over my heart.
"I remember all of it," he said. "And I still love you."
The words struck through me like lightning—gentle, soft, but burning. Not because I hadn't heard them before. But because now I knew what he was loving me in spite of.
I wrapped my arms around him, slow and careful, and held him to my chest.
"I'll make it right," I promised. "I don't know how yet. But I will."
His voice was muffled against me when he said, "You already are."
And maybe he believed that. Maybe Nyx did too. But it would be a long time before I could believe it for myself.