I looked down. "What? No, they're not!"
"Girl, I know your body. I've been inside your body. Those hips are wider than they were six months ago." His eyes narrowed. "Are you pregnant?"
The room went quiet.
I felt Hiroko's gaze snap toward me. When I looked at her, her eyes had widened. Just slightly. Just enough.
"No. First of all, Kenji and I have just started having sex. It hasn’t even been that much time." I shook my head. "I'm not pregnant. I'm on birth control. The pill."
Hiroko's expression didn't relax. "I would double up."
I blinked. "What?"
"If the Dragon wants you pregnant, you will be pregnant." Her voice was matter-of-fact. "No birth control will stop him. His bloodline has survived for centuries. It has survived wars, famines, and assassinations. It survives because when that bloodline chooses to create an heir, an heir is created."
I stared at her.
Zo burst out laughing. "I bet his sperm comes with a flame torch. Could you imagine? And like, the sperm probably has several swords. Actually, a full security detail."
He mimed tiny warriors swimming. "They probably take out the other sperm on the way to the egg. Eliminate the competition."
"Zo." I pressed my hand to my forehead. "Please."
"I'm just saying!" He held up his hands. "That man's genetics are not playing fair. You better double up on everything. Triple up. Get a chastity belt."
"I'm not pregnant," I said firmly. To Hiroko. To Zo. To myself. "I take my pill every day. Same time. I'm careful."
Hiroko inclined her head. "Then you have nothing to worry about."
But something in her tone suggested she didn't quite believe me. Or maybe she just didn't believe birth control could stop the Dragon.
Knots formed in my stomach.
The assistants checked my hair and made sure my braids were all still in the bun that the other stylists had done earlier.
Hiroko watched. "Good. We can't have your hair down tonight. That would be unsafe."
Unsafe.
There was that word again.
Nothing on my skin. Hair pulled completely back. Whatever this scene was, it required me to be. . .on a high level of alert.
Zo circled me one final time, produced a small bottle of perfume, and then stopped. “Hiroko, can I spray her?”
"No." Hiroko shook her head. "Nothing on her skin."
Zo sighed dramatically. "Fine. She'll just have to be naturally delicious." He slipped the bottle back into his pocket. "Which she is, honestly. Remember that time in my apartment with the perfume bottle when—"
"Zo."
"Right. Not the time." He stepped back and admired his work. "You look incredible. Powerful. Sexy. Like you're about to either fuck someone or destroy them. Maybe both."
I looked at myself in the mirror.
Red leather straps crossed my body like war paint. Brown skin exposed everywhere else—shoulders, stomach, the curve of my waist, the tops of my thighs. Hair pulled high and tight. Neck bare. The bite marks visible. Undeniable.
I looked like I belonged to someone dangerous.
