He was curled against me, breathing softly, his fingers tangled in the hem of my shirt like he thought it might float away if he let go.
I sat with my back against the cold wall of the room, knees drawn up, and Nine nestled between them like he belonged there. And maybe he did. Maybe I did too. Because even in this cage, this cold, sterile facility, this room was the only place that felt real.
"I like it when you smell like that," he murmured suddenly. "All warm. Like… soft things."
I didn't answer right away.
My hand was in his hair again, stroking gently, trailing from scalp to nape in slow, grounding sweeps.
He shifted slightly, his face resting more fully against my shoulder.
"If I stop being good," he said, voice barely a whisper, "will you stop liking me?"
My heart stuttered.
"What?"
He pulled back a little, looking up at me with those wide, liquid eyes. "If I mess up too much. If I don't do the things right. Will you go away?"
I cupped his face with both hands, thumbs brushing the apples of his cheeks. "No. Never."
"But… you only come when I'm good."
I shook my head slowly. "That's not true. I come because I want to be near you. Because I care about you. Not because of what you do."
He blinked. "But they say I'm not supposed to be cared for. Just used."
A tight breath hissed through my teeth.
"I don't care what they say."
He looked at me, utterly earnest. "So… you'll still like me even if I'm not useful?"
"Gods, Nine," I whispered, pressing my forehead to his. "You don't have to earn love."
He blinked again, puzzled. "But what else would it be for?"
Something inside me cracked.
I wanted to tell him everything. That he wasn't a thing. That he was mine. That I could tear this whole place apart just to keep him breathing.
Instead, I sat still.
Let him breathe me in again.
And watched, out of the corner of my eye, the soft swell of his neck—just below his jaw. Right where the gland rested, pulsing gently beneath the skin. The place where wolves bit to claim what was theirs.
My fingers hovered close.
He wouldn't stop me.
If I did it now—bit down, marked him—I'd have access to his mind. A direct bond. I could send him words, emotions. Soothe him during sessions. Warn him when to act. Pull him back when he started to spiral.
I could protect him better.
But I'd also be branding him.
Making him mine.
Fully. Irrevocably.
And in doing that—I'd be declaring war against everyone else in this facility. Against the boss. The handlers. The entire system that had turned Nine into something to be trained and sold.
Was I ready?
Was he?
Nyx purred low in my chest. Do it. Just do it. Make him yours. Protect him. You know you want to.
My mouth hovered near his throat.
And Nine, sweet, trusting Nine, tilted his head slightly.
Offering.
Not knowing what he was offering.
My breath caught.
"What are you doing?" I asked, barely managing a steady tone.
He blinked up at me, puzzled. "You were looking. So I thought you wanted to bite me."
"I was thinking about it," I admitted, voice hoarse.
"That's what wolves do, right?" he said. "To each other."
"To their mates," I corrected gently. "It's not just a bite. It's… it means something."
"Oh." His brow furrowed. "Like a rule?"
"Like a promise."
"Is it a bad promise?"
"No," I whispered. "It's a… forever kind of promise. It links two wolves together. Permanently."
Nine's eyes widened slightly. "Forever?"
I nodded.
"That sounds nice," he said softly. "Forever's a long time."
I leaned back slightly.
Looked down at him.
He was still watching me with that open, guileless gaze.
He had no idea what he'd just said.
No idea what it meant.
And I—
I wasn't strong enough to risk taking advantage of that innocence.
So instead of biting him, I pressed a kiss to his temple.
He leaned into it.
Sighed.
Relaxed.
And for now, that had to be enough.
But I knew this could only last for so long.
Because every time he pressed close, every time he offered his neck so trustingly, every time Nyx whispered ours—
It became harder not to claim him.
Not to make it real.