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)
I held onto that thought.
Let it settle.
But then I focused on Reo again. At that careful expression. That guarded stance. The way he was watching me like a man waiting for a blow he knew he deserved.
And I remembered the way Nyomi had slid down the wall this morning.
The way her legs had buckled.
The way she'd gagged on nothing, hand flying to her mouth, body trying to reject what her eyes had taken in.
The way she'd told me not to touch her.
Don't touch me.
Three words I'd never heard from a woman in my life. Three words that ripped through my chest like a serrated blade, twisting between my ribs, shredding everything vital inside me until. . .on the inside. . .I was drowning in my own blood, gasping for air that wouldn't come.
She might be in the kitchen now. She might be planning movies, getting her hair done, and thinking about my people's morale.
But she'd still woken up to a mountain of burning bodies. And none of that had to happen.
And then the fury returned, hot and righteous, because none of this would have happened if Reo had followed my fucking orders.
Fast, I grabbed him by the lapels of his designer suit and slammed him into the wall.
Reo's head cracked against the plaster and he grunted but didn't fight back.
Didn't even try.
The Fangs reacted.
Kaoru's hand flew to his Colt, though he didn't draw—his eyes going wide, all that heartbreak-handsome composure cracking for the first time I'd ever witnessed.
Yoichi stepped back so fast his rifle case swung against his hip. His mouth opened like he was about to speak—maybe one of his pretty haikus about violence—but nothing came out.
Rin pressed himself against the wall, white suit stark against the plaster, his usual calm shattered into something that looked like genuine fear.
Satoshi's military training kicked in—he dropped into a defensive stance, but even he looked uncertain. This wasn't an enemy he could fight.
This was his Dragon punishing his Roar.
I growled into Reo's face. "Why the fuck would you put the pyre by the window where my Tiger could see it?! And don't say it was a fucking accident. Don't tell me you didn't think this through because I know you did. You do nothing without thinking it through."
Reo met my eyes. No fear. Just that calm, measured certainty that made me want to put my fist through his damn face. "I did it because she needed to see it."
The words didn't register at first.
Couldn't register.
Because what he was saying—what he was admitting—was that he had deliberately disobeyed a direct order from the Dragon.
"She needed to see, Kenji." He didn't struggle against my grip, didn't try to break free. "She's in our world now, and if she's going to truly accept you—all of you, not just the parts you let her see—then she needs to understand what that means."
I slammed him into the wall again.
Harder.
His head snapped back and this time I saw it—a flicker of pain crossing his features before that mask slid back into place.
My shoulders burned. My jaw ached from clenching. I hadn't realized how hard I was breathing until the sound of it filled the hallway.
Kaoru stepped forward like he was going to intervene.
Satoshi caught his arm and yanked him back, shaking his head in a sharp warning. The ex-military man's grip was iron, his eyes carrying a message that needed no words: Don't. You'll die.
I looked at my Fang. “Do you have something to say?”
Kaoru's jaw worked, but he retreated. His hand fell away from his weapon.
I put my gaze back on Reo. "I told you to hide it from her. Putting it directly in front of her wasn't your decision to make."
"Someone had to make it."
For a heartbeat, I just looked at him. At that calm fucking face. At the certainty in his eyes.
Then I let go of his lapels and hit him.
Not a slam to the wall this time.
A punch.
My fist connected with his jaw and his head whipped to the side, blood spraying from his split lip onto the pristine wall. The copper scent hit me immediately. Sharp. Metallic. His blood in the air between us.
Behind me, Yoichi inhaled sharply—a sound I'd never heard from the man who made violence look beautiful. The sniper who quoted haikus while reloading was completely silent now, watching his Roar bleed with an expression that bordered on devastation.
Reo slowly turned his face back to mine and spat blood onto the floor between us. A thick, dark glob that splattered against the polished wood.
Then he looked at me like I hadn't touched him at all.
More blood ran down his chin, dripping onto his white collar, staining that impeccable suit.
And still—still—he didn't fight back.
"You want to keep her wrapped in silk." His voice was steady despite the blood. "Protected from every ugly truth. You want her to love you without ever seeing the Dragon. But that's not love, Kenji. That's a fantasy. And fantasies shatter."