The door closed behind me with a soft click, and for a long second, I just stood there in the corridor, not breathing.
Not thinking.
Then, like someone had pulled a thread from my spine, I staggered forward.
The assistant was waiting with the blindfold, impassive as ever. He didn't say anything as he turned and began walking me down the long stretch of hallway. I followed in silence, each step scraping over the polished floor like an accusation.
He looked at you like property, Nyx snarled. And you did nothing.
I didn't answer her. I couldn't. My hands were shaking again.
He had been kneeling. Nine. In a sheer robe that barely covered him. At that monster's feet, like a well-trained pet. And his eyes—gods, his eyes. Shattered glass. Like every piece of him that had started to mend had been smashed all over again.
And I had just watched.
I let them parade him like a prize. I didn't speak. I didn't move. I didn't protect him.
I walked beside the assistant, but it felt like I was sleepwalking. My heartbeat was a dull, angry thud against my ribs.
"You will be assigned quarters for the night," the assistant said, voice brisk and cool. "The Leader will summon you when he is ready."
I barely nodded.
He stopped in front of a tall door near the eastern wing of the building. Without ceremony, he opened it, then stepped aside.
"This is yours."
The room was small. Luxurious, sure—plush bed, velvet curtains, a gold-trimmed vanity—but it felt suffocating. Like a cage with velvet walls.
I stepped inside without a word.
"Someone will come for you," he said. "Do not wander."
And then he left.
The lock clicked behind him.
I stood there for a long while, staring at the door like I could burn a hole through it with hate alone.
You should've ripped that mask off his face and made him bleed, Nyx hissed. You should've—
"What?" I whispered. "What should I have done, Nyx? Right there in front of all those guards? With Nine on his knees?"
Silence.
I ran both hands through my hair, dragging them down my face. My lungs burned. My skin was too tight. My body wanted to move, fight, destroy something, anything.
But there was nothing I could do. Not yet.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, head in my hands.
"Why is this happening?" I whispered.
Because he was beautiful. Because they made him to be something obedient. Something desirable. Because he wasn't supposed to fight back. Because when he did, it made them want to break him more.
Because the Supreme Leader saw people as things—and Nine was the shiniest thing of all.
He's not a thing, Nyx growled. He's ours.
"I know," I whispered. "I know."
I should have grabbed him the moment I saw him. Ripped him off that velvet rug and shielded his trembling body with mine. Told the Leader to go to hell.
But I didn't.
I played along.
I told myself it was to keep him safe. To keep me safe, too. But part of me wondered—if I wasn't just too scared. Too weak. Too slow.
What if I was already too late?
No. No.
I stood up and crossed to the window, yanking the curtain aside. The city stretched far below—lights like jewels scattered across the dark. I could see the faint outline of the lower complexes, the towers, the smokestacks still belching into the night.
Somewhere in that massive fortress, Nine was alone.
Maybe crying. Maybe being touched again. Maybe worse.
I pressed my forehead against the cold glass.
"I'll get him out," I said. "Even if I have to kill the Supreme Leader with my bare hands."
That's more like it, Nyx said, her voice low and pleased. Just say the word, Rhea. We burn this place down.
But not yet.
Not until I knew where they were keeping him. Not until I knew how to disable the chip in his head. Not until I could guarantee that if we ran, we'd survive.
I needed a plan.
And I needed to be clever. Patient.
Deadly.
I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe.
Nine needed me. Not as a hurricane. Not as a fury. Not yet.
He needed me as a knife hidden in silk. A whisper that cut deeper than a scream.
And gods help them all when the moment came.
Because I wasn't leaving without him.