The room smelled like nerves.
Not fear, exactly—but the sharp, sour tang of apprehension. Like everyone seated around the polished war table had already decided something terrible was going to happen. Or maybe they were just waiting for me to be the one to do it.
I didn't blame them. Half of them had only recently stopped calling the Supreme Leader by name. The other half had worn their loyalty like armor until I'd personally ripped it off them, piece by bloody piece.
I sat at the head of the table. My chair was too ornate, the cushions stiff and cold beneath me, the carved crest behind my head a constant reminder of the man who used to sit here. I didn't try to look comfortable in it.
They didn't look comfortable with me sitting there either.
"Project WRAITH containment has held for now," growled Commander Thorne, tapping a thick finger against the datapad in front of him. "But it's temporary. The creatures have already adapted to three of the sedative protocols. We'll need new chemical restraints by the end of the week."
"That won't be enough," said Doctor Serrin flatly. "They're not just adapting—they're learning. You can see it in the report from Sector Six. One of the younger Wraiths mimicked a guard's posture for seventeen minutes straight. This isn't mutation. It's cognition."
A murmur passed through the room. I could feel it—restlessness masked as professionalism, anxiety disguised as concern. These people were terrified, and they should be.
I opened my mouth to speak—
—and the door opened without ceremony.
I didn't need to look to know who it was. His scent hit me first—soft, familiar, with that strange brightness that still made my chest clench around it.
Nine stepped into the room barefoot and in one of my shirts. It swallowed him completely, sleeves dragging past his hands, hem brushing mid-thigh. His white hair was mussed from sleep, violet eyes bleary, but he moved with singular purpose.
He didn't even glance at the others.
Just walked across the wide floor like he owned it, reached my chair—and climbed straight into my lap.
No hesitation. No asking.
Like it was normal.
Like it had always been normal.
The room went completely silent.
I blinked down at him. His arms wrapped loosely around my waist as he nuzzled into the crook of my neck, right where my scent gland pulsed beneath the skin. His breath was warm. He sighed contentedly.
"Found you," he said through the bond, barely audible, warm as a sunlit blanket.
I didn't even try to stop the smile that tugged at my mouth.
Nyx practically vibrated."Look at him!" she preened. "He's claiming us in front of all of them. Let them see. Let them remember."
I ran my fingers through his hair, letting the silence stretch. Let them squirm if they needed to.
When I looked up, Thorne's expression had gone blank with discomfort. Serrin looked like she was about to start chewing glass. And Kol—who I hadn't even realized was present—was just staring at Nine like he'd seen a ghost.
"Is there a problem?" I asked lightly.
Kol finally found his voice. "You—he—Rhea, do you know how much that looks like—?"
"I know exactly what it looks like," I said, my voice cold. "But the difference is, he came here by choice."
Nine shifted slightly, resting his cheek against my collarbone like he couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
"And if anyone in this room has a problem with that," I added, letting my power rise just enough to ripple under my skin, "you can get out."
No one moved.
"Good," Nyx whispered smugly.
I looked down again. Nine had already fallen half-asleep, curled in my lap like he'd finally found his den.
And maybe he had.