"You know," said one of the hybrids—Del, I thought her name was—as she stirred her tea, "we never actually got to talk to you properly before. The Supreme Leader kept us… isolated."
Another nodded, her pale lavender hair swaying with the motion. "We weren't allowed to speak unless spoken to. And even then, it was usually just to agree."
"I'm glad things are different now," I said honestly, giving them a small smile. "And I'd like to keep it that way. You're free to speak your mind here."
"That's dangerous," the redhead—Ari—chimed in, voice light. "You've never heard Del go on about her favorite flowers. Or heard Nira rant about shoes."
"I can rant about other things," Nira said primly.
"I believe you."
They all laughed lightly, a comfortable sound. For a moment, things felt… almost normal.
Except for the low, disgruntled hum coming from my lap.
Nine hadn't lifted his head. His cheek was mashed against my thigh like it was glued there, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. Every so often, he made a noise—a quiet whine, a sharp little breath, a rumble of discontent.
The hybrids were politely pretending not to notice.
Nyx was not pretending.
He's vibrating like a fridge. Rhea, your boy is malfunctioning.
He's just sulking, I sent back. Adorably.
One of the hybrids glanced at Nine, then at me. "He really doesn't like us, does he?"
"It's not personal," I said mildly. "He doesn't like anyone who flirts with me."
"We weren't flirting."
"You existed in the same room."
That earned another round of giggles.
"Would it help if we told him we all see you more like a terrifying older sister?" Nira offered.
"It might. But I wouldn't risk it," I said, lightly scratching Nine's scalp.
He made a noise like hnnnngh and shifted, arms tightening around me.
"He's going to strangle your waist if you let him keep doing that."
"Worth it."
"I can hear you," Nine muttered.
"We know," Del said cheerfully.
"You're mean."
"You're adorable."
That did it.
Nine finally lifted his head, narrowed eyes fixed on them, and pouted with enough intensity to put a child to shame.
"Stop calling me that."
"You're not helping your case, sweetheart," I murmured, brushing his bangs from his eyes. "You've been whining like a wounded puppy for twenty minutes."
"I'm not whining."
"You are."
"I'm not."
Del placed a dramatic hand over her heart. "If he glared at me like that during training, I think I'd faint."
"I am not glaring."
"You're glaring," I said, smiling faintly. "And it's not very scary."
Nine's glare intensified. He looked betrayed.
I kissed his temple and felt him go still again, eyes fluttering half-shut.
"I love you," I whispered.
He huffed, but the bond pulsed with contentment.
"I know," he mumbled back. "But they're still mean."
Nyx purred in my head, smug and delighted-This is the best entertainment I've had in years.