Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
But my hands were shaking at my sides. Because no one had ever bowed to me before. Not once in my life. And here, on an island full of killers and loyalists who had just watched a hundred bodies burn, I was being honored.
When we reached the golf cart, the assistants climbed in the front. Hiroko and I settled into the back.
The cart hummed to life and pulled away from the embers, heading deeper into the island.
I took that time to fully take the space all in.
Trees thickened around us. The sunset filtered through the branches in golden shafts.
Hints of the smog from the pyre still lingered faintly in the air, but it was clearing.
Lifting.
Making way for the clean salt of the ocean and the soft char of woodsmoke.
Hiroko glanced at my neck again.
I felt her eyes trace the left side. Then the right. Her expression didn't change, but her jaw tightened.
She said nothing.
The cart continued down the path. Further along the island, more people appeared—gathered in clusters, playing cards, sharing food. A group of children kicked a ball across a clearing. Someone had even set up a small grill and was cooking fish over open flames.
A woman at the grill looked up as we passed. She smiled at me and held up a skewer of fish like an offering.
I smiled back.
And something cracked open in my chest. Because this morning I woke up to ash falling like snow and a mountain of burning bodies. I thought morale would be shattered. Thought people would be hiding in their homes, terrified of the Dragon's wrath.
Instead, they were grilling fish and kicking soccer balls.
This island doesn't mourn traitors. It celebrates their deaths.
"You've been very busy since I’ve last seen you."
I turned to her. "I have."
"You found the spies."
I blinked. "How did you know that?"
"The whole island knows, Nyomi, that you're the one who found them. Reo definitely made sure the news spread. You're becoming quite important around here."
I didn't know what to say to that. So, I said nothing and glanced over my shoulder.
The pyre was far behind us now—just a faint orange glow through the trees. The crackling had faded. The smoke had thinned. But I could still see the embers. Still feel the heat of it in my memory.
"What did you think?" I looked back at Hiroko.
“What did I think about what?”
“What did you think, when you woke up this morning and saw that pyre of traitors?"
Hiroko didn't hesitate. "I felt safe for the first time since the Dragon bombed Tokyo."
"Safe?"
"Yes." She nodded. "That pyre told me that the chances of the Dragon being victorious against the Fox are high. Higher than I ever thought."
Damn. You were right again, Hiro.
She folded her hands in her lap. "It made me much more confident that this war will end faster than we all expected."
I watched her profile in the fading light. The sharp line of her jaw. The stillness of her expression. "Interesting."
Hiroko glanced at me. "Why?"
"I was just wondering." I turned back to face the path ahead. "That's all."
Just learning about this new world.
The silence stretched between us.
The cart hummed.
The trees thickened.
Hiroko spoke, "What's going on with these marks on your neck?"
My hand flew up instinctively. Touched the tender skin, and actually. . .relished in the sting of it.
"What happened?" Hiroko leaned closer and studied the wounds in the fading light. "Who bit you?"
"Kenji."
Hiroko’s face remained composed and unreadable, but I saw her hands fold tighter in her lap. Saw the slight tension in her shoulders. "I see."
The golf cart continued through the darkening trees. The sunset bled into purple and blue as the first stars began to emerge.
"Biting." Hiroko let out a long breath. "It is what we call edge play."
I looked at her.
"It sits on the border between pleasure and real danger. There are levels. Gentle bites—teasing, playful. They leave temporary marks that fade in hours. Then there are harder bites. Bruising bites. Those last days." She paused. "And then there are bites that break skin."
Her eyes moved to my neck again. "He broke your skin."
“He did.”
"When someone bites hard enough to draw blood, they've crossed into. . .”
“What?”
“Primal territory." Hiroko's voice remained steady. "It's not about pain or pleasure anymore. It's about marking. Claiming. Making you his in a way everyone can see."
The word claiming settled into my chest.
"The neck and shoulders are the most common places for this kind of. . .claiming bite. Visible. Undeniable." She exhaled slowly. "A brand."
Brand.
The word burned through me. And I didn't hate it. That scared me more than anything Hiroko had said so far.
I thought of Kenji’s teeth sinking into my flesh. The pain that twisted into pleasure. The blood running down my skin in the shower spray.
"In BDSM, we call the desire for biting odaxelagnia. The arousal from biting or being bitten. It releases endorphins for both people—the one biting and the one being bitten. It can create a high unlike anything else."