by S. Young
That made sense. Niamh swallowed hard looking at his strong, sleek back and the perfect muscled arse currently hugged by black jogging pants.
She was feeling very warm all of a sudden.
“I see you’re dressed for running.” He flicked her a wry look as he pushed open the door and gestured for her to go ahead.
Niamh glanced down at the sneakers, yoga pants, and sports bra she’d conjured.
Perhaps she had taken the whole thing too literally.
She noticed his tongue hadn’t rolled out of his mouth at the sight of her bare belly like hers had at his. Vanity pricked, she shrugged as she deliberately brushed her chest against his as she squeezed past. “I wanted to run like I was naked without being completely naked.” She emphasized the word naked both times she said it.
She heard a rumble deep from his chest and smiled to herself as she sashayed across the porch. Niamh could feel his eyes burning into her arse.
Good.
It wasn’t fair for her to be the only one smarting from sexual frustration.
The porch light spilled across the outside stairs and as Niamh approached, something caught her eye that she’d missed in the bright daylight. She lowered herself at the top of the staircase, staring at the creature carved on each newel post. It looked somewhat human but had a shell on its back and dish-shaped indentations atop its head. “What on earth is that?”
The smoke and heat of her werewolf companion enveloped her as he crouched down beside her. “That”—his deep voice caused a hot tingling in impolite places—“is a pair of kappa. They’re believed to live in and around bodies of water, like rivers and ponds.”
She turned her head to meet his gaze and found his mouth tantalizingly close.
He really did have the most spectacular lips with that exaggerated cupid’s bow.
“It’s not a very pleasant-looking thing, is it,” she said hoarsely.
Kiyo’s gaze followed suit, dipping to her mouth. “No,” he responded, voice gruff. “They’re said to emerge from the water to do strange things to humans and cattle.”
That was somewhat disturbing. “Why would someone carve kappa into a lodge perched on a pond?”
“Because this lodge is owned by a werewolf who rents it out to other werewolves. He doesn’t want humans or anyone from outer villages staying near the lodge. If they see the kappa, they’ll take it as a warning to stay away.”
“Oh.”
Their eyes locked, and a saturating heat swelled between them like mist rising across a hot tub.
“Time to go.” Kiyo stood abruptly, causing Niamh to rock back on her heels.
Renewed disappointment flooded her as she followed him down the staircase and into the woods.
The sun was still setting, and it shot through the trees in radiant beams of orange and yellows and reds as the pair trekked upward.
“The light through the trees is so pretty,” she murmured, a contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time sweeping over her.
“Komorebi.” Kiyo glanced back at her.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s the Japanese word for ‘beautiful forest with sunlight peeking through the leaves of the trees.’”
Wonder filled Niamh. “There’s an actual word for that?”
“Komorebi,” he repeated. “We have a few words and short phrases that encapsulate a feeling or a moment in time that doesn’t have a literal translation in English.”
“Japanese is beautiful,” Niamh said, feeling that beauty so deeply, her heart ached.
Sensing her sincerity, Kiyo’s countenance softened and he slowed so she could catch up to him.
“Do you have a favorite word like that?” she asked, curious about … well, everything about him.
“I do like komorebi,” he admitted. “I think of it every sunset in the woods before the full moon.” His brow furrowed. “My mother’s favorite was Takane no hana. Literally it translates to ‘flower on a high peak,’ but its actual meaning is ‘something that is beyond our reach.’”
Niamh’s felt a swell of compassion. “Your father?”
Kiyo nodded, eyes to the ground. “She loved him even after he left us. She loved him to her dying breath. He was her ikigai.” His tone changed as he forced levity into it. “Ikigai is someone’s reason for being. What makes them get up in the morning. It’s the convergence of four elements—passion, vocation, profession, and mission. In my mother’s case, the latter three played no part. It was passion for her. Who she loved.” His expression hardened. “No one person should ever be someone’s entire reason for being.”
It seemed like a warning, another example of him trying to push her away. But Niamh wasn’t having it. They’d come too far now. She wouldn’t let him spoil the mood. Continuing on in silence, she didn’t brood. She didn’t give in to the tension that pulsed between them.
She was here to enjoy the run.
Soon the light filtering through the trees was no longer sun but moonbeams. Kiyo let out a seemingly uncontrolled growl that reverberated up from his gut. He slowed to a stop and turned to her, his features strained between pleasure and pain.
Niamh’s pulse fluttered as she throbbed deep and hot between the legs.
Kiyo’s nostrils flared as if he sensed her arousal. “Change is coming,” he warned, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his joggers.
What she really wanted to do was get an eyeful of her wolfy protector, but she owed him more respect than that. Giving him her back, she tried not to let her imagination run wild as she heard the material of his joggers slide down his legs.
Goodness, that magnificent arse of his was on display again and what she wouldn’t give for another look at it.
She bit her lip to stem a bubble of girlish laughter.
All amusement died, however, as she heard Kiyo hit the ground behind her and let out a long moan of … pleasure? Her skin flushed hot and she spun around without thinking to watch his transformation. Last time she’d been too preoccupied with a vision to witness him in wolf form.
Kiyo was on his hands and knees, his head thrown back as he let out a half-human, half-animal howl. All the hair on Niamh’s body rose. Her pulse raced.
The surrounding energy amplified, throbbing beyond him to affect her. She could feel his pleasure and the slight burn of pain that didn’t do anything to detract from the bliss of the change.
And then his claws sprang free, making her jolt back, startled.
Huge, shining black claws that were utterly lethal.
A crack sounded as his jaw elongated, and he growled unintelligibly as sharp teeth filled his mouth, two big fecking canines slicing into view. His arm snapped the wrong way, making Niamh flinch, and then his legs popped and cracked, too, his ankles shifting and lengthening into hindquarters. Thick, black, shining fur pushed through his skin in patches and clumps, like the magically accelerated growth of grass through the soil.
And then Kiyo was no longer a man.
He was now a great big, bloody black werewolf, twice the size of a regular wolf.
A howl burst forth from his snout.
Niamh gaped, wanting to approach him but not sure what the etiquette was.
Then his head snapped toward her, his nostrils flaring, and Niamh almost smiled. She could still see Kiyo behind those large, dark eyes.
“Well, aren’t you unfairly beautiful in any form,” she teased with a smile.
Kiyo made a chuffing sound.
“I’m not sure what the polite thing is here … but … I don’t suppose I could touch you, could I?” she asked tentatively because he wasn’t the cuddliest person when in human form.
To her surprise, Kiyo padded toward her, the muscles in his legs flexing. Jesus Christ, his head was at chest height. A head he lowered for her to touch.
Warmth suffused Niamh as she reached out and ran her hand over his soft fur. “You’re a big fella, aren’t you,” she murmured affectionately.
A giggle escaped her a
s Kiyo bussed into her touch as soon as she scratched his ears. It delighted and surprised her. Wolf Kiyo was more affectionate than his human counterpart.
After indulging him in some ear scratching, Niamh’s hands trailed around his large, strong jaw and his eyes opened, piercing her soul.
“Time to run?” she whispered.
Wolf Kiyo padded slowly away, his tail swishing in the night air. He still smelled like Kiyo. Like earth, smoke, and aged ambergris. He stopped, shot her a somewhat challenging look over his shoulder, and then he leapt through the night ahead of them.
Niamh’s pulse skittered and she tore off after him.
He was fast.
Bounding and loping and veering and speeding through the forest, never hitting a tree or the logs or rocks that laid in their path. Niamh wasn’t so fortunate. Even though she was faster than him, she wasn’t quite as graceful as he was in wolf form, and that was saying something since grace was one of her virtues. But at this speed, in the unfamiliar woodland landscape, Niamh stumbled out of her super pace when her toe hit a large rock or she didn’t quite make the leap over a fallen tree that seemed to come out of nowhere.
Yet, as the hours went on and she followed Kiyo, he made a circle in the forest (obviously so they didn’t venture too far from the lodge and upon possible human activity) and Niamh’s reflexes caught up. Suddenly she was soaring through the woods, keeping up with Kiyo as they shared joyous looks of thrill.
Raccoons, squirrels, snakes, and other small animals hurried and slithered out of their path. The trees were a blur of naked limbs and newly growing buds. The patches of snow barely touched them, they moved so fast. The moon glowed on their skin and it felt like basking in the sun.
It was awesome. They felt connected as they ran. A bond sharp and golden strung between them.
And for once, neither of them fought it.
They gave in.
They were one.
And it was glorious.
Until the massive fecking bear appeared.
Feeling exhilarated but weary, Niamh slowly climbed the stairs to the lodge with every intention of falling asleep on the couch. Kiyo could have the bed.
He, after all, had leapt in front of her to protect her from a bear.
Unfortunately, there had been no time to run in the opposite direction. They were bounding through the trees when Niamh almost collided with the beast.
And it charged.
Wolf Kiyo had lunged in front of her, taking the bear to the forest floor.
To Niamh’s horror, however, the bear swiped his claws across Wolf Kiyo’s belly and he’d whined and rolled off.
Before the bear could charge again, Niamh used her magic to knock it out.
By the time she got to Wolf Kiyo, he was already healing. Werewolves healed especially fast in wolf form.
Still, she felt guilty and appreciative of him for jumping in front of her like that. He seemed to forget she was just as immortal as he was, but Niamh had to admit that she liked his protectiveness. Even if he did say he only protected her because he was being paid to.
Fecking liar.
Smiling to herself, Niamh stepped into the lodge and let her body fall down onto the couch. “Oof,” she grunted, rolling onto her back to kick off her sneakers.
The sun was coming up, and Niamh had left Kiyo to change in private.
Sure enough, she could hear his footsteps coming up the exterior staircase just as her eyes began to flutter closed. The door squeaked open and she felt the heat of Kiyo’s gaze.
Her body tensed with hyper awareness as she heard him approach the couch.
“Take the bed,” he said softly.
Niamh’s eyes flew open.
He stood over her. Half-naked. His hair loose and falling around his chin.
God, he was so beautiful, she thought she might die with the pain of wanting him. “I’m okay,” she croaked out. “You take the bed.”
In answer, he bent down and scooped her into his arms.
Niamh let out a squeal of surprise and looped her arms around his neck to hold on. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t respond. Instead he strode into the bedroom and gently laid her on the futon. Without another word, Kiyo left the room, closing the shoji screen behind him.
Niamh’s skin still tingled from his touch.
Disappointment was heavy in her gut.
For a second there, she thought he’d intended for them both to sleep in the bed.
22
To her utter surprise, Niamh didn’t wake until not long before the sun was due to set again. She hadn’t expected to sleep all day, but the run must have taken more out of her than she’d first thought.
Now she was wide awake and restless as the memories of the night before played over in her mind. More specifically memories tormented her with the closeness and intimacy she’d shared with Kiyo.
She knew it would be reckless to drag her feelings into the open, but Niamh wasn’t sure how much longer she could pretend that all she felt was friendship. Was it only a few days ago she’d made that impressively cold speech about them not being friends and being all about the mission?
Stuck in a lodge with him for one night, and all that floated out the window. She wanted him too badly.
And she knew he wanted her.
Stubborn wolf.
Getting quietly out of bed, Niamh pulled on a T-shirt that was barely long enough to cover her arse. She slipped out of the patio doors that connected her bedroom to the deck that ran along that entire side of the lodge.
She peeked into the living room but could only see Kiyo’s long legs dangling over the sofa edge. Niamh shook her head. Stubborn wolf. He could’ve had the bed.
Feeling only a slight tickle of the cold, Niamh sat down on the wooden lounger and drew her legs up to her chest, pulling the T-shirt down over her knees. The cool air caressed her thighs, kissed her calves, and tickled her feet. She flexed her toes, drinking in the late-afternoon sun flooding the pond and the tops of the trees. Imagining how lush and green this place must be in the summer, she almost wished they could stay for a few months so she could witness it.
There was so much peace and privacy. They could never run wild like they had last night while living in a city. It wasn’t just the closeness with Kiyo Niamh had enjoyed. She’d loved being able to expend massive amounts of energy. But also to let all her worries go and just enjoy the moment. Almost like a child at play.
Melancholy filled Niamh as she rested her chin on her knees. She’d never be able to live in a place like this. An enemy would find her eventually. That’s why she and Ronan were always on the run, always moving.
Niamh wondered what Ronan would think of Kiyo.
He’d hate him, she thought decisively.
Not because of anything he’d know about Kiyo. He’d hate him purely for having Niamh’s attention.
Her chest ached at that, but she could think such things about her brother without feeling guilty anymore.
Wabisabi, Kiyo said the Japanese called it. The appreciation of beauty in the imperfect things. Ronan was like everyone, human or otherwise. He hadn’t been perfect. He’d been very flawed. And Niamh knew he didn’t want her to love anyone other than him. Not just because he didn’t want anyone to take her from the lifestyle he strangely enjoyed but because she was the only family he had. And he loved her. He was afraid of losing her like he’d lost their mam. It wasn’t a healthy way to love. Niamh knew that. But she could forgive him because he had forgiven her plenty in return.
At the end of all things, Ronan had died trying to protect her.
He’d died for the most beautiful part of his imperfect love.
“Niamh?”
She gasped, swiping a hand over cheeks she didn’t even know were wet until Kiyo’s voice broke through her musings. Her eyes flew to the doorway to the living room. He stood there, still half-bloody-naked but this time in black pajama bottoms.
His brow was furrowed in concern.
“What’s wrong?”
The last of her guilt had just floated away into the mountains of Japan. And it was all because of the wisdom of the immortal standing in front of her. She gave him a small smile. “Nothing. Everything’s fine. Better than fine.”
“You sure?” He strode onto the deck, making hardly any noise in his bare feet. For such a tall man, he could certainly move like a ghost.
Niamh watched him falter as his eyes dropped to her legs. Specifically the top of her outer thigh where she knew her underwear was probably visible.
Heat prickled along her skin as he halted next to the lounger, his legs almost touching hers. His dark gaze glittered in the sunlight and if she wasn’t mistaken, his breathing was uneven.
She wanted him to scoop her into his arms again and take her back into the bedroom. This time, however, she wanted him to stay with her. To lift the shirt over her head. To slip out of his pajamas. To cover her body with his.
To bury himself inside her until this damn, gnawing longing within her found some relief.
They stared at each other as if silently communicating all the sexual things they wanted to do to each other. Energy crackled between them as Niamh grew slick with the fantasies rushing through her mind.
Kiyo’s nostrils flared, and she knew as his features hardened with restraint, as his hands curled into fists, that he’d smelled her arousal. Movement caught her attention and her gaze flickered downward.
Her breath caught.
She wasn’t the only one aroused.
Her eyes flew back to his.
Touch me, then, she wanted to demand, but didn’t. Reach out for me. I’ll give you what you want.
Instead she watched Kiyo fight against his physical desires, his jaw muscles flexing.
But he didn’t move away.
In fact, his expression was challenging.
And realization dawned like a bucket of ice water.
Kiyo was waiting for her to make the first move because it meant he wouldn’t have to take responsibility for anything that happened between them. It would be Niamh’s fault.