Chapter 17 Kairo #3
It was small. It was nothing, to anyone watching. To me it felt like a reward, the kind you gave a dog that had stayed at heel instead of biting.
My throat tightened, and I nodded. I kept my hand still and let her choose the ending, because the point was not to take.
When she finally let go, she did it gently, and her gaze held mine for a breath that said, good. Then she picked up her water, leaving me to sit there with my pride bruised and my heart stupidly full.
Outside, I guided her toward the SUV, hand at the small of her back without pushing. She leaned into it.
“Third thing,” I reminded her. “Nest supply.”
Nyx’s eyes flicked to mine. “You said I get to pick.”
“You do,” I said. “But I’m still buying it.”
She considered, then said, “A blanket.”
“A blanket,” I repeated.
“Yes,” she said. “Something heavy. Something that smells like me, not like disinfectant.”
We stopped at a small shop that sold weighted blankets and home goods that did not scream luxury. Nyx picked a deep charcoal blanket, soft but heavy, and hugged it to her chest. The motion made her shoulders drop a fraction.
It had been almost two weeks now since the skating rink, long enough for the penthouse to develop routines around her.
Long enough for her to learn which hallway cameras were real, which doors clicked on a delay, which of Meridian’s men knocked before entering, and which ones only pretended they would.
She had been living there for twelve nights now.
Everything she’d owned before Meridian had been boxed, disposed of, or transferred without her input.
Not as a guest, not as a prisoner she could fight her way out of, but as a problem they kept close and a woman who refused to be broken into gratitude.
“You can keep it in your room here,” I mumbled. “Or in the nest spot you haven’t admitted you picked yet. Either way, it stays yours.”
“This one,” she said.
I paid without haggling. Meridian did not bargain for what mattered.
Back in the SUV, Nyx rested her cheek against the blanket and stared out the window.
“You’re thinking,” I said.
“I’m always thinking,” she answered.
“Tell me the part you’re not saying,” I said.
Nyx’s gaze slid to me. “Those men knew about the Underworld Council.”
My hands tightened on the wheel before I could stop them. Leather creaked under my grip, and the cabin seemed to shrink by a fraction.
“You heard him,” I said.
Nyx did not look away. “I heard the word. I don’t know what it means. Who are they.”
I kept my eyes on the road, but my voice lost its play without asking permission. “The Underworld Council.”
Nyx blinked once, slow. “That’s not an answer.”
“It is,” I said. My grip tightened on the wheel until the leather creaked. “They’re the head honchos to the city. Not Meridian. Meridian operates because they allow it. Pack Meridian handles the mess and things on the streets,” I said. “The Council decides where it’s allowed to exist.”
Nyx’s fingers curled into the edge of the blanket. “I’ve never heard of them.”
“You’re not supposed to,” I said. “They don’t put names on paper and they don’t put faces where cameras can find them. People like us hear whispers. People like them make sure the whisper is the only thing you ever get.”
Nyx swallowed. “And they rarely involve themselves with Meridian.”
“No,” I said, and the word came out flat. “They rarely touch Meridian business because my father’s territory is its own problem. So hearing they’re sniffing is not good.”
Nyx’s eyes stayed on me. “If nobody meets them, how do you know they exist.”
“Because men like that one don’t say things they can’t prove,” I said. “And because when someone gets invited to meet them, it never ends in a handshake.”
Nyx’s throat worked. “It ends in what?”
I glanced at her long enough to make sure she was still breathing, still with me. Then I looked back at the road.
“It ends in an untimely demise,” I hissed. “Bodies that don’t get found right away. Families that stop asking questions. People who learn the hard way that curiosity costs.”
Nyx went still, and her scent shifted, sharper at the edges. “So if they ever want to see me…”
“They won’t,” I said, too fast. My thumb rubbed a slow circle against the steering wheel. “Not if we do our job.”
Nyx’s eyes narrowed. “We.”
“We,” I confirmed. “Your heat is coming, and it’s going to make stupid people brave. Our job is to make them regret it before they get close enough to breathe your name.”
Nyx held my gaze. “My heat is going to make this worse.”
There it was, said out loud, and my body reacted. Blood warmed low and heavy, and my alpha surged forward.
I swallowed hard and kept my breathing even. Control was a gift in Meridian, not a weakness.
“It’s going to make everything louder,” I said. “Your scent, their instincts, the city’s appetite. But we’re going to be ready.”
Nyx’s brows lifted. “We.”
“We,” I confirmed. “You’re not doing it alone, and I’m not letting anyone make your heat a weapon against you.”
She stared at me for a long beat. Then she shifted closer and rested her shoulder against mine, blanket between us.
“Good,” she murmured.
I let my smile come back.
“Yeah,” I said. “All play, no work.”
On the horizon, her heat was coming. When it hit, the pack would either rise to meet it or we would burn down everything trying.
I planned to rise. I did not have another option.