The call came early.
I had barely stepped out of Nine's room, heart still unsteady from the night before, when a courier in all black handed me a folded note with the boss's seal. No words. No explanation.
Just a time.
A room number.
And a single command scrawled in elegant, cold ink:
Be there.
Nyx was already snarling before we even reached the hallway. Don't go. He's not ready. We're not ready.
"I know," I whispered under my breath.
But we both kept walking.
Because we didn't have a choice.
The room was dimly lit when I entered. Cooler than usual. The boss was seated at the end of a long conference table, flanked by two instructors I didn't recognize. A map was projected onto the wall—lines drawn in red across back routes and no-man zones I knew better than I wanted to.
He didn't look up when I stepped inside.
Just gestured to the empty chair across from him.
I sat.
Silent. Waiting.
He finally turned his gaze on me.
"We have a problem," he said. "One of our shipments is being targeted. Three different checkpoints. Two possible intercepts. We're rerouting it through Black Hollow Ridge."
My stomach dropped. "That's—"
"Dangerous," he said smoothly. "Yes. Which is why I'm sending you."
I blinked. "Me?"
"You're quick. Quiet. You know how to follow orders. And," he added, eyes narrowing slightly, "you can shift."
I stiffened.
He smiled faintly. "We need teeth on this run. If things go wrong, your wolf will give us a chance to salvage the shipment. You're a built-in contingency plan."
Nyx growled louder. Tell him no.
I stayed still. "You want me to escort it?"
"You'll be embedded," he said. "Not leading. Watching. We have reasons to believe someone in our own crew may be leaking intel. I want you there to observe. Report."
"And Nine?" I asked before I could stop myself.
The room chilled instantly.
He stared at me.
Flat. Cold. Patient.
"As of this moment," he said, "Nine is not your concern."
I didn't respond.
But my hands curled into fists beneath the table.
"He'll be monitored," the boss said. "Cared for. Handled."
Handled.
Nyx bristled. He's going to be cut open while we're gone. And we're just supposed to walk away?
"I'd prefer not to leave while he's—" I started.
"You don't have a say," the boss interrupted. "You made a deal. You're here to serve. You've proven useful. I'm using you."
His words weren't cruel.
Just true.
That made it worse.
"You leave tonight," he said, standing. "Briefing's already in your quarters."
I didn't rise right away.
Didn't trust myself to.
He walked past me without another glance.
One of the instructors smirked.
"Try not to miss your little pet too much," he said.
I left before I did something I couldn't come back from.
The hallway felt longer than it ever had.
Each step echoed.
Nyx was silent now, but I could feel her fury simmering like boiling oil under my skin.
They're going to gut him while we're gone, she said eventually. Slice him open. Put new things inside him.
"I know."
They'll touch him.
"I know."
And he'll think we left because he broke something.
That was the part I couldn't breathe around.
Because it was true.
Nine had only just started to look at me without flinching. He'd only just started leaning into my touch again. After everything—after the kiss, after the offer, after my voice whispering be a good boy for the boss—he still came back.
And now I had to leave.
I made it halfway to my room before I stopped walking.
I stood in the middle of the hall, fists trembling, throat locked.
Then I turned around.
I had to see him.
Just one more time.
He looked up when I entered.
Didn't smile.
Didn't speak.
But he stood. Crossed the room. Placed his hands in mine.
Like he already knew.
I cupped his face gently.
"I have to go," I whispered.
His eyes dropped.
Not in fear.
Not in confusion.
But in that same silent hurt I'd seen too many times.
Like he knew what leaving felt like.
Too well.
I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in close.
He didn't hesitate.
Just sank into the embrace like he was made for it.
"I'll be back," I said.
He nodded once.
Then pressed his face into my shoulder.
And stayed there.
Holding on like he could stop me from disappearing.
When I finally pulled back, his hands lingered at my wrists. His gaze searched mine—quiet, unreadable.
And then, softly—hesitantly—he leaned in and pressed the lightest, most fragile kiss to my lips.
Barely there.
Like he thought it might shatter us both.
My breath caught.
But I didn't move.
Didn't stop him.
Didn't speak.
Because anything I said might break the moment.
And then I left.
With the feel of him still warm against my skin.