Page 160 of Dragon 7

He said, "Careful."

I leaned my head to the side. "Careful? Why?"

Kenji did not answer, but his rage did, swelling through the space and heating my skin.

What the fuck?

Kenji stayed near the door. At least twenty feet of tile lay between us. His eyes drifted from my face to the chair beside the empty bed where I’d been sitting. A small stack of children's books rested there.

Sighing, Kenji walked over to the books. When he got there, he picked one up, turned it in his palm, and set it back down. "They said you read to the kids during the war. The kids still stuck on the island because they couldn’t make the evacuation in time. The kids that were too sick to be moved."

"I did."

Kenji picked up another book.

This one was thinner. The cover was a watercolor of a tiny girl in a pink kimono. Her hair was black as ink. She held a paper crane cupped in both hands like the crane might lift off if she loosened her fingers. The pastels bled soft into each other.

Kenji turned it over in his huge, scarred palm. His thumb slid across the cover slow. I held still as he opened it. The paper made a small dry sound against his skin. His eyes lowered to the first page. I watched his long lashes flutter.

Then his mouth opened, and his voice came out lower than I'd ever heard him. "Nanami was the smallest girl in her village. . ."

I parted my lips.

"But she had the biggest heart. . ." His voice cracked. "And that was how she saved the world. . ."

He stopped reading, yet his gaze stayed on the page. Through our bond, his sadness flowed into me and mingled with my grief. His jaw locked as his fingers tightened on the small book until the spine bent a little against his grip.

Then, slower than he had picked it up, he closed the book and set it down away from the stack.

When Kenji finally raised his eyes to me, the cold rage that had poured through the wall when he first arrived was gone. What replaced it had no name yet. There were too many emotions wrestling with each other and forming into one massive complexity.

Finally, he spoke, "You gave my men’s frightened children bedtime stories while the island burned and exploded around them. They will remember your voice longer than they remember the fire."

I gritted my teeth. I did not want to be told my worth right now. I needed to know why the fuck he was so angry and why it felt like it was directed at me.

I let out a long breath. "They said the war is over.”

“It is.”

“Your brother and father are dead?"

“They are.” His voice held no rage, even though I could feel it moving between us.

I swallowed. "How is my Roar?"

"I sent him with Hiro and the twins to a private hospital in Tokyo. They will get checked out. He will be fine."

"And my Claws and Fangs?"

"All are fine."

“Rin was—”

“One of the Silent Ones came to me and explained that Deja and him did the burial ritual.”

Shock hit me. “Oh.”

“They’re bonded and exhausted, but they were transferred to my mansion in Tokyo. Rin has a room there.”