The bandage wasn't enough.
I could still see the glow.
Faint, silver, like starlight through a curtain. Soft enough to miss—unless someone was looking for it. Or had reason to.
I stared at it like I could will it to vanish. Like if I just concentrated hard enough, the bond would learn to hide.
Nyx paced inside me, unusually quiet now. Alert. Uneasy.
It's too bright, she said. They'll notice. Someone always does.
"I know," I whispered.
I hadn't moved in minutes. I was just sitting beside Nine, one hand still on his shoulder, the other tangled in my lap, numb with dread. My stomach coiled tighter with each breath.
Nine didn't seem to mind the silence. He had his head resting gently against my thigh, his eyes closed, breathing slow and even.
But he wasn't asleep.
And I knew it because I felt him through the bond now.
Not just emotions—but intent.
A thread of focus, tightening, concentrating on something.
Then—his body stiffened.
Not alarm. Not pain.
Concentration.
I sat straighter, eyes narrowing.
"…Nine?"
His brows were pinched faintly. The hand that had been resting against the side of his neck curled inward, fingers lightly brushing the edge of the bandage. And suddenly, beneath my palm, I felt it:
The heat of the bond—the steady pulsing energy of the mark—
It dimmed.
I blinked.
The faint glow bleeding through the gauze dulled like someone had drawn a curtain over the sun.
I leaned in, carefully peeling the bandage back, just a sliver.
It was still there. Still etched into his skin, clear and beautiful and mine—but the silver light had pulled back, recessed deep into the skin.
Contained.
Hidden.
"…How are you doing that?" I asked softly.
Nine opened his eyes.
He didn't look dazed. He looked… tired. Like he'd just finished holding his breath for too long.
"I didn't want to scare you," he said.
"You didn't—"
"You looked scared," he interrupted gently. "So I thought maybe I could help."
My throat tightened.
"You felt that?"
He nodded.
"I didn't mean to," he added quickly. "It was loud. You were loud. I just wanted to make it quiet again."
Loud. Gods.
Of course I'd been loud.
I hadn't realized the bond would carry this much through so soon. But now that it was active, now that he'd accepted it with no hesitation, it was open. A clear line between us.
He must have felt everything.
All my fear. All my guilt.
And instead of asking me to comfort him, he'd tried to comfort me.
"You suppressed it," I said quietly. "You figured out how to hide the glow."
His expression flickered. "Is that… good?"
"Yes. That's—yes. It's very good."
He relaxed slightly at the approval. Then frowned. "But it takes a lot of… I don't know what to call it. Holding. Inside. It feels like holding my breath with my skin."
That sounded about right.
"But I can keep doing it," he said. "If you want me to."
"You shouldn't have to," I said, brushing his hair back from his face. "This isn't your job."
"It's ours, right?" he said. "We're bonded now."
That word.
Bonded.
I hadn't heard it from anyone but Nyx in years. But now, from him, it sounded sacred.
"I'm going to figure this out," I said. "All of it. The instructors. The handlers. The Supreme Leader. All of it."
Nine smiled faintly.
"You don't have to fight everything alone," he said.
"I do if it means keeping you safe."
"But I want to help."
"You already are."
And gods help me, it was true.
He reached for my hand again, pressing it gently against the side of his neck.
The glow didn't return.
But the bond buzzed faintly beneath the skin, warm and loyal and sure.
Like he was telling me: This doesn't have to be seen to be real.
And somehow, that mattered more than anything.