Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
A radio crackled.
Boots pounded.
A whistle blew somewhere down the south path.
But all this noise was still better than the smiling ghosts haunting me inside.
I walked to the far end of the balcony, where the moonlight could not reach. Then, I put my back against the cold stone of the mansion wall, raised my shaking hands to my new locket, and pulled it out from beneath my bulletproof vest.
How did Nyomi know I needed this?
I trembled.
My Tiger. . .
The locket pressed warm against my hand.
A boom rolled across the trees. The terrace railing rattled. Somewhere on the south path, a man yelled, and another man yelled back.
I slid down the wall until I crouched, and for several minutes. . .I stared at the locket.
The chain slid through my fingers. The gold oval rested against my palm. The Great Wave off Kanagawa was exquisitely painted across the front in foam and curling currents.
It had been created by the Japanese artist Katsushika Hokusai around 1831 during Japan’s Edo period. A gigantic wave towered over small boats, its claw-like foam reaching downward like white fingers toward the terrified fishermen beneath. Mount Fuji stood calmly in the distance.
Humanity facing inevitable forces.
Survival beneath overwhelming pressure.
Beauty existing beside danger.
I turned it over with shaking fingers. Koi swam upward across the back. Their scales had been etched one by one into the gold.
What was my Tiger thinking about when she asked the craftsman to do this for me?
I opened the locket.
The hinge released with a soft metallic click and I stared at Nura’s picture. She didn’t look at the camera. Instead, her focus was on something in front of her. Yet her dark brown skin glowed in the soft lighting, and a beautiful smile sat on her face.
My chest tightened and my throat burned.
I only knew you for a short amount of time, but I swear I’ll be grieving you for much longer. Why is that?
I thought of my brother, Kenji, who had decided to go to war against our father the night Nura died.
He loves me too much. . .
The accounting of the dead landed in my soul.
You died because of me, Nura. Then, Hiroko. . .Sora. . .Nao. . .more. . .
Kenji would argue that those were not my deaths. Perhaps that was why he was the Dragon. All I knew was that no matter what. . .my brother could not lose. . .not when he’d sacrificed so much for me and our Tiger.
I closed the locket. The hinge clicked soft against the night. I pressed my thumb against the koi on the back.
There is no other option tonight. Either the Fox dies, or I do.
I tucked the locket back inside my vest, rose, and stared at the moon.
And then after the war. . .whatever I am. . .a man. . .or oni. . .or nothing at all. . .I will just be. . .yet surely there will be more smiling ghosts or not. . .more sleepless hours. . .
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, even though no tears were there to wipe.
Or maybe. . .our Tiger can heal me one more time?
I crunched the lollipop into bits, let the candy melt on my tongue, and against all logic, cruelly smiled just like the ghosts that haunted me.
And deep in the corners of my dark soul. . .
I hoped the smile. . .
would stay on my face through the battle.
Chapter one
Home Advantage
Kenji
Every part of me wanted to be within the softest place on earth—the space between my Tiger's thighs. The wet silk of her wrapped around my cock. Her breath at my ear. Her nails sliding down my back. Her thighs trembling. Her back arching. My name breaking apart in her mouth. Her soul threading with mine.
That was the only war I wanted to fight.
The slow conquest of her body.
The surrender of mine.
I wanted her riding me slow in the dark until neither of us could remember our own names.
Since she had walked into my life, I had stopped craving blood. I craved her. Quiet mornings. Slow hours. A life where my hands learned her body instead of how many ways to end a man's.
Love instead of war.
I had spent my whole life learning how to take.
She had taught me how to receive.
I was supposed to be with her tonight. Buried in her. Counting her moans like a man counts his blessings. Drowning in her and truly living.
Then Kiko called the Fox.
And the soft night I had earned turned to ash before I ever touched her.
And now I stood over a map deciding how many men would not see morning.
“All hope is not lost.” Reo stood across from me at the long table. “We at least have home advantage, and that matters.”
A freshly painted map of the island rested between us. Needing to do one as quickly as possible, the artist had used a brush too wide for the coastline and the green had bled into the blue in places.