The room they brought us into was blindingly white—sterile, quiet, and too clean in a way that made my skin itch. I stood there with Nine at my side, the leash gripped tightly in my hand, as the guards took their places along the perimeter. Not one of them spoke. No one told us what was happening. We just waited.
I could feel Nine trembling beside me, the subtle tremor in his shoulders barely perceptible, but I felt it through the bond, pulsing like a faint echo in my chest. He didn't speak, didn't look at me. His head was bowed slightly, hands at his sides, every inch of him radiating submissive stillness.
Then the door at the far end of the room slid open.
He didn't walk in like someone important. He slithered in.
The Supreme Leader's assistant—young, polished, reeking of entitlement—wasn't what I'd expected. He wore a sleek black suit that hugged his narrow frame, eyes sharp and glittering behind delicate gold-rimmed glasses. A permanent smirk rested on his face, like he already knew he was above us and didn't need to try to prove it.
"Ah," he said, looking Nine over like he was a car on display. "So this is the one."
I said nothing. My grip on Nine's leash tightened as the assistant circled us, slow and deliberate. Nine didn't flinch, didn't react, not even when the man stopped right in front of him and tilted his chin up with two fingers.
"He's very pretty," the assistant murmured, more to himself than to me. "I can see why His Eminence would be interested."
I kept my expression neutral. Barely. Nyx snarled inside me, the sound low and guttural.
Don't react, I told myself. Don't give him a reason.
The assistant's hand moved lower. "On your knees," he said, with no heat, no kindness—just command.
Nine obeyed immediately, lowering himself with fluid, trained grace. His hands rested on his thighs, head bowed again.
The assistant crouched down in front of him, brushing a gloved finger against Nine's lips.
My heart started pounding, but I didn't move. Couldn't move.
He shoved two fingers roughly into Nine's mouth.
I saw Nine's body jolt, his breath hitching as the assistant forced the digits deeper between his lips. His jaw worked around the intrusion, gag reflex kicking in for a moment before Nine steadied himself, falling into trained compliance. His lips closed around the fingers, cheeks hollowing slightly as he sucked them.
"That's good," the assistant murmured, watching him like he was admiring fine art. "His mouth is just the right shape. And he listens. I like that."
My nails bit into my palm. I couldn't look away. I couldn't breathe.
Do something, Nyx snarled. Rip his throat out.
But I couldn't. Not here. Not now.
The assistant pulled his fingers out slowly, wiping the wet sheen off on Nine's cheek like he was cleaning a knife on a rag. "The Supreme Leader will be pleased."
He turned his head slightly toward me, that smug smirk never leaving his face. "He won't be meeting him personally just yet. First, I'll be taking him for preliminary assessment."
My jaw clenched. "He's still recovering from transport," I said tightly. "If anything happens to him before the official handover—"
The assistant waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry. He'll be perfect by the time His Eminence is ready."
He stood, brushed imaginary dust off his pants, then yanked the leash out of my hand before I could stop him. Nine flinched again as the collar jerked against his neck.
"Come, darling," the man said sweetly, voice dripping with mock affection.
Nine didn't look at me as he rose to his feet and followed him.
I didn't blame him.
The door closed behind them with a cold, final hiss.
I stood there alone, fists clenched, stomach twisting.
Nyx was pacing inside me like a caged animal. You should've stopped him.
"I know," I whispered under my breath.
You let him touch our mate.
"I know."
But I also knew if I had tried anything—just one wrong move—they'd kill him.
There would be time. I just had to survive long enough to take it back.