(A few days later)
Nine had been pouting for the last forty minutes.
I wasn't even gone yet. I was still in the process of packing, meticulously folding lightweight, breathable clothes into a sleek duffel bag while he sprawled dramatically across the bed like a prince wronged by the universe.
Nyx, ever unhelpful, had decided to encourage him.
"He looks like he's been personally betrayed by the sun," she purred, snickering as Nine shifted again with a sigh so heavy I was surprised the ceiling didn't crack.
"I'm not going for long," I reminded him gently, casting a glance toward the bed. He was now hugging one of the extra pillows, his face smushed into it as if it had personally offended him.
Nine's muffled voice rose up in protest. "Too long."
"It's two days, Nine."
"Too long," he repeated firmly, refusing to look at me.
I let out a slow breath, shaking my head as I zipped the bag closed. "You're being dramatic."
"I'm being abandoned," he corrected with absolute seriousness, finally turning to look at me. His violet eyes were glassy and wide, a silent weapon deployed at full strength.
Nyx let out a sound that was a cross between a cackle and a howl. "He's perfect. Keep him."
"I already did," I muttered under my breath before walking over to the bed. "Come here."
He didn't move at first, and I thought he might dig in his heels. But eventually, he uncurled like a cat, slipping into my arms and climbing onto my lap with practiced ease. His arms wrapped around my waist, and he buried his face in my shoulder with a low, sulky huff.
"You're only going to check if they're okay," he mumbled, as if trying to convince himself more than me. "But what if you get tired and forget to come back?"
I blinked. "Tired and forget—Nine, I have literally waged a war for you. I'm not going to forget to come back."
He tilted his head just enough to peek up at me with a faint pout. "But what if someone else needs you more?"
Ah. There it was.
Nyx immediately recoiled with a growl that echoed in my chest. "No one needs you like he does. You are ours. Period."
I carded my fingers through his white hair, tugging him closer until his face was pressed right into the crook of my neck—right where my scent was strongest, right against his bite mark. "No one needs me more than you, Nine," I said softly, brushing my lips against his temple. "And even if someone did, I'd still come back to you."
He didn't respond right away, but his fingers curled into the back of my shirt. I felt the faintest tremble in his body—not from fear, but from the sheer weight of trying to believe me.
The bond between us buzzed softly, a subtle thrum of longing and reassurance. I let him feel everything I meant through it—my certainty, my devotion, my unwavering intent to return. I let it pour through the thread connecting us, warm and heavy like honey.
"You're the only person I want to come back to," I whispered.
He nodded, just once, but the tension in his shoulders eased. Slowly, his pout began to melt into something else—something smaller and softer. He leaned up to nuzzle into my jaw and then down again to tuck his face against my neck.
"I still hate it," he said.
"I know."
"You'll call me?"
"Yes."
"Every hour?"
"Every three."
He made a wounded sound. "Two."
I laughed. "Fine. Two."
Nyx was practically doing cartwheels in the back of my head. "You're doomed. He owns you."
I didn't argue. I wasn't sure I wanted to.
After a few more minutes of holding him, I gently eased him off my lap and stood, grabbing my coat and sliding it over my shoulders. Nine followed me to the door like a shadow, his hand firmly clutched in mine until the very last second when I had to pull away to step outside.
As the door clicked shut behind me, I could feel his eyes on it. Watching. Waiting.
It physically hurt to walk away.
x-x-x
The shuttle ride to the private island was quiet, the air thick with humidity and the sound of waves crashing against the hull. My thoughts wandered between logistics—habitat quality, medical care, reinforcement protocols—and the image of Nine's face, half-buried in my neck, whispering his clingy little complaints.
The creatures of Project WRAITH had been relocated here to provide them peace, not containment. They deserved better than sterile glass cages and sedatives. They were not mistakes. They were made this way by someone else's hand—monstrous, yes, but still sentient, still capable of pain and longing and rage.
I owed them safety, even if they could never live full, long lives.
But the weight of that responsibility pressed down on me like wet cloth. These were lives with expiration dates. No cure, no fix, just time trickling through fingers that couldn't hold it. I tried not to let it show on my face, but Nyx was always watching.
"We're doing better than what was done to them. That has to count."
I didn't reply. Because even if it counted, it didn't feel like enough.
The facility came into view—sleek, quiet, nestled into the lush green of the island's center. Far enough from the world. Close enough to care.
As the doors slid open, I stepped inside and forced myself into the role they expected of the Supreme Leader.
Back at home, Nyx whispered fondly into my mind.
"You realize he'll be standing by the door when you get back. Possibly vibrating."
I smiled despite myself.
Good.