The air in the facility changed.
Not in the subtle way that cold drifts in or heat slowly suffocates—this shift came sharp and metallic, a taste in the back of the throat, like blood and static. I felt it before I heard the footsteps. Nyx stirred instantly, ears up, hackles raised, her energy scraping along my skin.
Something bad is coming.
The door hissed open, and I didn't have to turn to know who it was. The boss always moved like he owned the ground under his feet. Two guards followed, guns slung across their backs, their presence more for performance than protection.
Nine tensed behind me on the bed, his fingers curling into the edge of my shirt.
The boss's eyes landed on me first, unreadable. Then, they slid to Nine—and the smile that tugged at his lips made my wolf snap her teeth in my head.
"We've had a change of plans," he said, clapping his hands together once. "The Supreme Leader wants him earlier than expected. You'll be part of the team delivering him."
I stood up slowly, careful to keep myself between Nine and the men. "Why now?"
"Why not?" His grin widened, then flattened just as fast. "You don't need to worry about the why. Just know the order's final."
Nyx's growl vibrated through me like a warning siren. I didn't respond. Not yet. Because I'd learned that when the boss got that look in his eyes—calm, smug, a little bored—it usually meant something worse was coming.
And it did.
"If you so much as breathe wrong on the journey," he added, his voice dropping an octave, "I'll blow his brain to pieces."
The words didn't register right away. It was the casual way he said it, like he was talking about a malfunctioning toaster. Like Nine was just another device with a kill switch.
"What?"
He smiled, slow and cruel. "You didn't think we'd send something that valuable without a little insurance, did you?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver device, flipping it in his palm. "Implanted chip. Buried nice and deep in that pretty little skull. One signal, and boom—no more toy."
Behind me, Nine shuddered. I turned around, fast, sinking down to his level. His face had gone pale, lashes fluttering, lips parted but speechless.
He'd known. I could see it in the way his eyes didn't widen in surprise, only in shame.
I pressed my forehead against his gently. It's okay. I'm here.
He didn't speak, but his fingers found my wrist and gripped tight, trembling.
"Transport begins in twenty-four hours," the boss said. "Make sure he's presentable. And docile."
I didn't look up. I couldn't. Because if I did, I might snap. And we'd both die.
The door hissed shut behind them.
Nyx exploded in my head, pacing, snarling, slamming her rage into the walls of my skull.
HE'S OURS. THEY CAN'T—
"I know," I whispered. "I know, Nyx. But we can't fight this. Not yet."
Nine leaned into me, his weight a whisper against my chest. He wasn't crying. But his breath caught like he wanted to.
"Alpha," he whispered. His voice was raw, rasped from everything he'd endured, and everything still to come. "I… don't want to go."
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them away. He needed me calm. Grounded. Not shattered. I cupped his face gently, thumbing away the cold sweat on his temple.
"I know," I said. "But you're not going alone."
He blinked up at me, like he hadn't expected that. Like part of him still couldn't believe I was staying.
"I'm going with you," I said. "And we'll find a way, okay? Just hold on. Just a little longer."
His lip quivered. He nodded once, and then buried his face into my shoulder again, as if trying to disappear inside me.
And I held him.
Gods help us—I held him.