Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
When the smoke clears, nothing—and no one—will ever be the same
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Buried Alive
Kenji
Grief was a burial that came with no ceremony nor folded hands.
No earth disturbed once and left to settle.
While the dead rest in peace, the survivors were buried alive.
Lying flat on their backs in the darkness of sorrow. Dirt shoveling over their faces. Pressure pressing the air from their lungs and the light from their eyes.
Standing became a performance and existing became the bravest and most exhausting thing a man could do.
Tonight, I was buried alive under Yoshiwara.
Lying right next to Hiroko and every name Hiro had spoken aloud at that table in his toast to the dead.
I was buried under the weight of what I'd ordered, what I'd permitted, and what I could undo by no act of will regardless of how necessary it had been.
I should have been incapable of standing.
Incapable of eating.
Incapable of laughing at Reo's story or pressing sake to my lips or feeling anything other than the particular suffocation of a man swallowing his dead.
But the Dragon refused to grieve where anyone could see it. I was the very skeleton of this massive body called the Yakuza. The beast who hovered over Japan—jaw set, eyes calm, spine straight.
My stillness was the only thing standing between my men and their own fracturing.
They ate because I ate. They laughed because I laughed. They believed the war was survivable because I looked like a man who was already victorious.
This was the silent burden I held close to my chest.
The Dragon's strength lived inside the pain—managed, compressed, driven down through the body and stored below the sternum where it could never reach my face, voice, or hands.
Where it could burn quietly and privately.
Anxiety lived alongside the grief.
Was Yoshiwara only the first shovelful of dirt over my face?
Was more death coming?
Heavier ones.
Suffocatingly sorrowful ones that would strip away my breath and everything I thought I understood about the man I was?
I had no way of knowing.
All I could do was keep walking forward into the dark and trust that my feet knew the floor.
But I had my Tora, my sweet loving Tiger who had thought enough through her grief to welcome our return with food and comfort. She gave us space to eat together.
She had fed us all and asked for nothing back.
My Tiger.
My queen.
My love.
The only anchor stable enough to hold on in this raging storm.
The meal wound down.
Absolutely well fed, my men pushed back from the table and stretched in satisfaction of the full meal.
All the sake bottles were emptied and the chopsticks had been set to rest.
“We must do this after every battle.” Daisuke stood and rolled his neck until it cracked twice. Even after all the fighting in Yoshiwara that black mohawk was still perfect. He blinked his bruised eyes, now darkening from purple to gray and yawned. “Thank you, Tora.”
I stiffened at his using my nickname for Nyomi.
I’ll have to tell them that only I call her that.
I decided on a later time, since I knew she would protest.
Nyomi smiled. “You’re welcome, Daisuke.”
Then Kaede rose, straightened his jacket, and yawned. “I agree. In fact, we should have a meal from the Tiger before we go into battle too.”
I sneered. “Not going to happen.”
Chuckles left Toma’s split and swollen lips. He left his seat too, giving me a good view of those long gashes stretching across his neck.
Akiro’s men beat us up bad.
Everyone else followed suit, the twins were last to stand.
"I killed at least twenty." Aki held up his bandaged hand.
Yuki didn't even look at him. "It was only eleven."
"You miscounted."
"You overcounted."
Nyomi shifted on my lap.
My arm tightened.
She shifted again with more intention. "Kenji."
“Yes?” I pressed my palm flat against her hip, anchoring her there without looking at her.
"Let me up."
Shocked, I looked at her. "You're comfortable."
"You're comfortable. I want to get up and say goodbye to my Claws and Fangs."
"Your Claws and Fangs?"
She tapped my arm. "Kenji."
I exhaled through my nose and removed my arm.
That’s okay, Tora. I’ll punish you once we get to bed.
She pressed a kiss to my jaw before she stood.
Frowning, I tracked her across the room, unable to look away.
They filed toward her.
Toma reached her first and wrapped both arms around her with zero restraint, lifting her entirely off the ground.
She yelped.
The line of my jaw twitched.
"This was better than my leftover pizza in the fridge. You're an absolute legend, Tora."
"Toma, my ribs—"
"Sorry. Sorry." He set her down and smirked. "Same time next battle?"
Right when I was about to protest, she bobbed her head in agreement. “Of course. There will be food after the next battle so make sure you come back.”
Annoyed, I pursed my lips.
Toma nodded. “I will. Don’t worry about that, Tora.”
Kaede stepped forward and bowed his head to her. A few strands of his platinum blond hair hung in front of him. He shifted into his best British impression. “Milady, due to this royal feast, I am your loyal knight from this day forth and henceforth and thereafter.”