I didn't wait for clearance.
I shoved through the checkpoint and stalked straight toward the med wing of the facilty. One of the handlers called after me, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.
Because the moment I stepped through the door—
I smelled him.
Nine.
His scent hit me like a drug. Muted, dulled by antiseptics and chemicals, but still there. Still him. Lavender and warmth. A little off now. Like it had been strained thin.
I followed it.
And I found him.
Curled in a corner of the medical bay.
Just… pushed into the space between a storage cabinet and the far wall, like someone hadn't known what else to do with him. Like he was furniture. Forgotten.
He wasn't alone.
There were others here. Three more hybrids—each in various states of disrepair. One was lying on a cot, a slow IV drip trailing into his arm, bandages wrapped too tightly around his wrists. Another girl had her back to me, spine arched in an unnatural curve, eyes glazed and blinking at nothing.
All beautiful.
All broken.
But it was Nine that made my breath catch.
He didn't stir.
Didn't look up.
Didn't feel me.
"Rhea…" Kol's voice came from behind me, hesitant. "There's talk—quiet stuff. Gossip from the staff who were at the party."
I didn't look at him. Just knelt beside Nine, brushing a hand lightly against his shoulder. He didn't flinch. Didn't react at all.
Kol continued, voice lower. "They said the boss lent him out. To one of the executives. High-ranking. Wanted to show off what a 'responsive specimen' he was."
My throat closed.
"They kept him going for hours," Kol added. "Pushed him too far. Like—testing limits, seeing how long before the programming would crack. They wanted to see if they could get him to break in front of guests."
"They did," I whispered.
Kol didn't deny it.
"He hasn't woken up since," he said. "Not really. Just drifts in and out. No speech. No reactions. They sedated him to make him easier to manage when he started thrashing."
Thrashing.
I reached forward, smoothing his hair gently. His breathing was shallow. His scent dim.
He looked so small like this.
And worse—he looked like he was trying to disappear.
Nyx let out a sound I'd never heard before.
Not a snarl.
Not a growl.
Just quiet devastation.
He needed you, she whispered. And we weren't here.
I swallowed, throat tight.
"I'm here now," I murmured to him. "I'm here, Nine."