We hadn't even made it to the exit.
Alira caught my sleeve just as I turned toward the hall. "Wait—wait. You haven't seen the music room yet! We hung up all the instruments they let us keep."
I glanced down at Nine. His grip on my hand had somehow gotten tighter. His jaw twitched.
"I'd love to see it," I said gently, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. Just a few more minutes, I told him silently through the bond.
He didn't respond in words, but the flare of emotion I got back was something like reluctant agreement… tangled with sharp little flecks of wariness.
The music room wasn't far. A small, sunlit space with long windows and cushions thrown across the floor. A few string instruments were propped up on stands, and someone had arranged a circle of chairs like it was a gathering spot. It felt warm. Lived in.
Inviting.
Several hybrids were already inside, lounging comfortably. One of them sat at a low harp, fingers idly plucking at the strings while another tuned a wind flute. They perked up when they saw me.
"Sit with us, Supreme."
"I brought the tea set!" someone chirped, holding up a delicate tray. "We were hoping you'd come back."
I felt Nine bristle beside me. He hadn't let go of my hand since we stepped through the door, and now he was nearly plastered to my side like a shadow stitched to my skin.
"Is that alright?" I murmured down to him.
His ears were pink. But he gave a tiny, jerky nod and followed me to the cushions like a good soldier going into battle.
I sat first, cross-legged, and no sooner had I settled than Nine crawled into my lap like he belonged there.
Because he did.
The room fell quiet for half a breath.
Then one of the hybrids sighed dramatically. "Oh, he's here again."
"Like he ever leaves her side."
"He's so cute though, look at that face—he's glaring at me. He's glaring."
I laughed. Actually laughed.
Nine buried his face in the crook of my neck.
You know they're only teasing, I told him, running my fingers through his hair, You don't have to growl every time someone smiles at me.
He didn't respond. Not in words.
But his tail was wrapped around my waist now, holding me like an anchor, and his little huffs of breath were warm against my skin.
I turned to sip the tea one of the girls handed me, and every time I so much as smiled at one of them, Nine shifted slightly—pressing closer, or laying his head on my shoulder, or tugging my hand into his lap like a child claiming a toy no one else could touch.
And gods, I couldn't stop smiling.
All this time, even after everything—my reassurances, my words, my bond humming like a heartbeat between us—he still felt the need to stake his claim. To curl around me, soft and stubborn and embarrassingly adorable.
It should've been possessive. Maybe even annoying.
But it wasn't.
It was just… him.
My Nine.
The one who once wouldn't meet my gaze, who flinched from touch, who couldn't speak in full sentences.
Now he wrapped himself around me like it was nothing. Now he glared at anyone who looked at me for longer than two seconds. Now he defended what was his, even in the pettiest of ways.
And it melted me.
I kissed his temple.
He looked up at me, a bit surprised, but didn't move.
"They're not a threat," I whispered with a tiny smile.
He blinked at me. Then leaned in and pressed his nose to my neck. Not a kiss—just a firm little claim.
The hybrids across the room let out a synchronized awwww.
Nine didn't even flinch.
Progress.