Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 66993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“What did he get you?”
I gestured at the two packages, “I have no idea.”
“I can’t believe he sent you gifts. You’ll need to give him something back.”
I lowered to my knees. “I will?”
“Definitely.”
“Why do I have to give him a gift?”
“Gift-giving is traditional and almost a social obligation at times. I’m always buying things when I go traveling. I store tons of stuff in my closet for these occasions. Here, if someone gives you a gift, you’re to give them something of at least equal value.”
“Awesome. Now he's bound me to buying him something,” I tore off the pretty paper and lifted the top of the box to open it. “Meanwhile, he’s stolen my freaking recorder.”
“Would you let the damn recorder go? It barely worked.”
“It served me just fine.” I pouted.
He mocked me. “It served me just fine.”
“Oh, just go fuck yourself, Zo.”
“I sure will, after we check out what the Dragon has given you.”
I picked up the smaller box and looked at it. I almost didn’t want to tear away the gold paper. It looked custom—too thick, too decadent, as if it had been rolled out of a secret boutique meant only for billionaires with sins to disguise.
Let’s see what he got me.
Carefully, I pulled the gold wrapping away and lifted the lid.
A book rested inside, nestled in tissue paper.
Alright.
Slowly, I pulled the book out and studied it. “When the Dragon Swallowed the Moon.”
“Oh.” Zo walked over. “What an interesting gift. I never figured the Dragon to be a fantasy reader.”
“Have you read this?”
“No. I’ve heard of it but never have been able to get a copy, especially one in English.”
“Kenji told me that only a few copies existed.”
“And now you have one.”
“Yeah.” I stared at it.
The cover shimmered as if it had been forged, not printed—deep obsidian and molten gold, blending like fire fading into the night.
The title curled across the surface in delicate silver ink: When the Dragon Swallowed the Moon.
The letters were soft, looping, and almost sensual.
I ran my fingers over the front without opening it and thought back to what he’d said about this book where a powerful hero could transform into a dragon.
“His every step to conquer the world had been greatly calculated. Every ally chosen. In fact, in his mind, all of his enemies were already buried. Then, he saw her. . .”
I flipped the book open. The pages smelled faintly of incense. There was no bookstore label. No price tag. No markings inside except a handwritten note on the title page.
To the one who made me lose my breath.
—K
I blinked.
The words weren’t long but they hit me with so much damn warmth.
My pulse jumped.
I closed the book and quickly put it down. Not because it looked dangerous—though, to be fair, it kind of did—but because he had chosen it. Wrapped it. Sent it to my door with a demand disguised as an invitation.
Zo crossed his arms over his chest. “Well. . .I don’t think we’re going to die now.”
“Yeah but. . .why this book?”
Zo shook his head in disbelief.
“He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who makes impulsive decisions.”
“You don’t hold the power he has from being impulsive.”
“So then why did he give me a book about a man who transforms into a dragon to conquer the world. . .only to falter when he sees a woman?”
Zo grinned. “I hadn’t pegged the Dragon for the sentimental type.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s definitely a smooth move,” Zo picked it up, turned to the first page, and read it out loud, “The world had already begun to burn when he saw her.”
I blinked. “Well. . .that’s a good start.”
“It is.”
I looked down at the other package and opened it. “O-kay. . .let’s see what the other gift is.”
I tore through the gold paper.
A plant sat inside.
Instead of a vase, it rested in a glass tray with tiny smooth pebbles. A sweet scent rose from it.
What's that beautiful smell?
It reminded me of strawberries mixed with cream.
The flower sensually arched forward with two large lavender petals folding over on the sides, inviting the viewer to peer into her opening. In the center were two tiny, pink petals folded inward.
Uh. . .What the hell?
I wasn't a perverted person but I did try to discover the deeper meaning and origin of things that sat before me.
Therefore, I could not ignore the erotic vibe radiating from that lush plant. It teased at my senses—captivating my eyes, luring my nose into memories of fingers sliding against skin.
I stroked one of the soft petals. A silky texture greeted my fingertips. “Is it just me or does this flower look like a vagina?”
Snorting, Zo covered his mouth. “Oh no. It’s not just you. The name of it is clitoria.”
“Stop playing. That’s not funny.”
“It’s true.”
“How do you even know something like that?”
“How do you not?” He chuckled. “It’s my favorite sort of plant, but I've never given one to a woman before.”