The tear hadn't even dried.
It caught the light, glinting faintly on Nine's cheekbone like a crystal bead—delicate, pathetic, honest.
The Supreme Leader noticed.
"Oh?" he murmured, lips curling in amusement. "Are those tears?"
Nine didn't answer.
He couldn't. His mouth was closed tight, his body frozen in that perfect kneeling pose. But I felt the ripple inside him—shame and confusion and the sickening hope that maybe, now that he'd broken, it would stop.
It didn't.
The Supreme Leader grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back, hard enough that Nine flinched, just slightly. His neck arched, pale throat bared. And that tear—the one he thought no one had seen—slid further down his cheek.
"Look at that," the Supreme Leader said, voice bright with cruel delight. "Isn't he just lovely when he cries?"
The people nearby laughed.
He turned Nine's face toward them like he was showing off a painting. "All flushed, all glowy… and those tears—gods, it's like he wants to be ruined."
Someone whistled. Another leaned in to get a closer look.
Nine kept his eyes down, lashes trembling. His cheeks were already pink from humiliation, but the Leader wanted more. So he raised his hand and slapped him.
Lightly. But deliberately.
The sound cracked across the room.
Nine's head jerked to the side, but he didn't move otherwise. His hands stayed on his thighs, his posture perfect. One more tear spilled, tracing a fresh line down his already-wet face.
The Supreme Leader laughed. "There. That's better. Doesn't he look sweet like that? All rosy like he's shy. Like he likes it."
Another slap. This one a little harder.
Nine's cheek bloomed red beneath the impact.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood.
Through the bond, I felt him trying—trying—not to reach for me again. Like maybe he'd finally understood that I couldn't help him here. That whatever I was doing—whatever reason I had for staying still—it meant he had to endure this alone.
But he was still hoping.
Still hurting.
Still mine.
I forced a laugh and took a sip of my drink to hide the tremble in my hand. Every instinct in me was begging to lunge across the room, to rip the Supreme Leader's hand off at the wrist. But I couldn't—not yet. Not in front of all these people. Not without ruining everything.
Instead, I watched him humiliate my mate like it was sport.
And I smiled like I didn't care.
Nine's eyes met mine for a split second.
Only a second.
But it was enough.
I saw the question in them.
Why?
And I saw the answer I couldn't say aloud.
Not yet.
Hold on, I told him silently, forcing calm into the bond. Just a little longer.
Soon.