Just like I knew.
The mirage of our escape was dissolving like sea foam.
Reo emerged from the aircraft as I approached, and the visual struck me with cinematic clarity.
Him in a tailored black suit—pressed and immaculate despite the humidity—while I stood in swim trunks with salt water still drying on my skin and Nyomi's bite mark throbbing on my shoulder.
His polished dress shoes sank into my imported white sand.
Black leather against pristine white.
An ink stain spreading across the page.
The contrast almost burned my eyes. It was a visual metaphor I couldn’t escape—duty arriving to reclaim me from pleasure.
By the time I stopped a few feet from him, all traces of arousal had vanished. My cock had gone completely soft, tucked back into my swim trunks.
The Dragon clamped back onto me—claws sinking into my shoulders first, then deeper, puncturing muscle. Scales scraped down my ribs one by one, each ridge catching bone.
Fire crawled up my throat, thick and choking, until the taste of salt water and Nyomi's skin burned away completely. Its crushing weight settled across my shoulder blades, familiar and suffocating.
Responsibility drowned the salt-and-sex haze from my mind, replacing pleasure with the cold clarity of threat assessment.
My spine straightened.
My jaw set.
Kenji, the lover dissolved, and only the Dragon remained.
I don’t know what he’ll say. I just know that I will kill the person.
Reo’s tie fluttered, caught in the dying wind of the blades. There, he waited in silence for a few seconds, and his face carried that careful neutrality he wore when delivering news he knew I wouldn't want to hear.
Damn it.
He looked past me toward the ocean, jaw flexing once, then again. A bead of sweat slid down his temple even though the wind had cooled.
The longer he stayed silent, the more I knew I didn’t want him to speak.
He was afraid—of the words themselves.
But beneath that expression, I also saw exhaustion. Dark crescents hung beneath his eyes, and his jaw appeared tight, possibly from nights spent chewing through strategy instead of getting sleep.
How long has it been since he’d gotten 8 hours of sleep? Two days? Three?
I frowned. "You look like shit."
"Thank you." His mouth twitched. "You look relaxed. I'm about to ruin that."
"I know."
The ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and flowers between us. Behind us, the uguisu called its three-note song.
Ho-ho-kekyo.
The sound that once brought me peace now felt like a countdown.
Reo still hadn’t said the bad news.
