Bound by Forever

by S. Young

  “A protective covering. I can handle it without burning myself. I’ll still feel weakened by it, but it won’t leave me with any scars if I wield it.”

  “Where did you get them?”

  “Somewhere. Who knows? Same with the protective covering on the hilt. I just think of what I want and my magic retrieves it for me.”

  “And where are you planning on concealing them? We’ll be checked for weapons before we enter the gardens.”

  “I’m not taking them with me. I’ll leave them here. If Astra does come to the fight, I can conjure them to me.” Niamh stepped back, her legs weak. “But I think we better leave the room now. Forgot how much of a toll that bloody iron takes.”

  A forbidding scowl marred Kiyo’s brow, and a wave of feeling flooded from him. Startled by it, she followed him quietly out of the hotel room. The weakness faded almost as soon as they shut the door. Kiyo, however, strode down the corridor, pulsing with self-directed recrimination.

  And guilt.

  Hurrying to catch up with him, Niamh slipped her hand into his.

  He quirked a brow at her. “Now you want to hold my hand.”

  “Don’t be spiky just because you feel guilty for breaking my neck twice and trapping me in a room filled with iron.”

  His emotions flooded her, including annoyance, but Niamh didn’t care. She’d forgiven him for that ages ago and he should know it. He tried to pull away, but she held on tight. “Kiyo-chan, it’s in the past. Let’s leave it there. I know you’d never intentionally hurt me.”

  He whirled on her, grabbing her face in his hands to pull her to him. He crushed her mouth to his, his wild abandon way too sexual and hungry to be happening in a public hallway.

  Niamh moaned, her back bowing as she melted into his voracious kiss.

  Finally he released her lips but didn’t let her go. His gaze was fierce. “Next time I ask you to come to me, you come to me.”

  Goodness, he was still chafing about that? “I’m yours to command, my darling, but only when we’re making love. Outside of that, my feelings and actions are my own.”

  Kiyo released a groan of exasperation as he leaned his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes closed.

  “We’ll get used to it,” she promised, understanding. “All the feelings for one another … one day they won’t overwhelm us.”

  “I feel like I’m wearing my insides on the outside.”

  Niamh grinned at his unromantic but accurate description. “Like I said … we’ll get used to it.”

  Her mate kissed her again, soft and sweet this time. When he released her, he brushed his thumb over her mouth and said with grim seriousness, “Tonight you’ll do what I say at the fight. I know these wolves. I know how these fights work. I need you to follow my lead.”

  Niamh had no problem with that. It made sense for him to take charge in a situation completely unfamiliar to her. “I’ll follow your lead.”

  That seemed to reassure him and he led her to the elevator. When the doors opened, he shuffled her inside. Silence fell between them.

  Then …

  “When you say you’re mine to command in bed … what are we talking about exactly?”

  Niamh shot him a mock annoyed look and didn’t reply. Not until the elevator stopped a few floors down for an older American couple who greeted them as they stepped inside.

  Then Niamh belatedly replied, “I was thinking light bondage. At least to start with.”

  She felt his arousal hit her with full force. The Americans exchanged confused and somewhat disturbed looks while Niamh grinned wickedly.

  Amusement danced in Kiyo’s eyes even as he promised silent retribution for turning him on when he couldn’t do anything about it.

  Any amusement Niamh had been feeling died as their cab dropped them off outside one of the entrances to Shinjuku Gyo-en National Garden. Epic levels of energy leaked from the park.

  “There’s a spell here. A powerful one.”

  Kiyo nodded. “Sakura pays a local coven to put a barrier spell up to stop the public from getting in.”

  “A coven?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You never mentioned Sakura had connections to a coven.”

  “Does it matter?”

  Niamh shook her head, but something niggled at her. Trying to shake off the feeling, she asked, “How does she get away with a fight in a public garden?”

  Kiyo eyed the five hulking werewolves guarding the entrance. “Pack Iryoku has werewolves in positions of power within the government. No one will take action against Sakura for closing the park.”

  A note had arrived at the hotel a few days ago with detailed instructions of which entrance Kiyo was to use and where the fight was taking place. As soon as they reached the security werewolves, Niamh felt the pulsating energy from within reaching beyond the barrier spell.

  The place was filled with supernaturals.

  Kiyo gave his name to the werewolf who stepped forward. He wore an earpiece and spoke in Japanese to someone elsewhere. He nodded and turned to Kiyo. “Haruto-san is on his way. We check you for weapons.”

  The security guard moved in for pat downs. When it was Niamh’s turn, Kiyo bristled with so much tension waiting for the wolf to make the wrong move that everyone in the vicinity felt it.

  The wolf patting her down shot her a wry look as he gave her a clinical once-over.

  Niamh’s nervous butterflies made her feel antsy as they waited. She was unaware her physical jitters were so obvious until Kiyo grabbed her hand and pulled her into him to whisper in her ear, “It’ll be okay.”

  She nodded just as Haruto arrived to escort them.

  He stared at them with the same blank expression he always seemed to wear. “This way.”

  They followed Haruto into the gardens. He led them past people Kiyo relayed were pack members.

  “How big is the pack?”

  “Biggest pack in East Asia. Sakura has her work cut out leading this many wolves. That’s why she is the way she is.”

  “Don’t make excuses for her, Kiyo.”

  He frowned. “I’m not. Just stating facts.”

  Niamh hated that she was jealous of his past with Sakura, or any woman, for that matter. She wanted to be above such emotion. Maybe one day, hopefully, when they’d settled into the bond, Niamh would be.

  The pack watched them as they passed, wolves in casual and formal wear drinking and eating and socializing around the landscaped French garden area.

  Niamh’s looked beyond Haruto to the massive open park ahead of them. The large green area surrounded by trees had been transformed from the peaceful park she’d visited almost two weeks before.

  Folding chairs were spread in a circle around what looked like a professional boxing ring. The chairs were already filling fast with spectators, and standing near the back row of seats in a bloodred, skin-tight dress that left little to the imagination was Sakura. Daiki stood at her side, and they were conversing with a huge werewolf Niamh didn’t recognize.

  Scenting them, Sakura turned her nose toward them. When Niamh’s stare connected with hers, she could have sworn she saw bolts of absolute hatred spark from Sakura’s eyes. But it was as if Niamh had almost imagined the look because Sakura appeared nothing but smugly pleased by their arrival.

  Haruto stepped to the side as they drew to a halt in front of the alpha and her mate.

  Sakura ignored Niamh, giving her entire attention to Kiyo. “You can keep a promise.”

  Kiyo didn’t give her the satisfaction of an answer.

  “Well.” The alpha gestured to the werewolf who was built similarly to the mammoth Fionn Mór. The male was at least six foot six and bursting at the seams of his T-shirt with muscle. “This is Emil König. He has come all the way from Berlin for our fight. Emil, meet Kiyo. He is your opponent for the evening.”

  Emil gave Kiyo a nod of respect, which he returned.

  “Your fight is the most anticipated and the most exclusive,” Sakura e
xplained. “Only the wealthiest of our patrons have been allowed to place bets. Your arena is across the bridge”—she gestured to Niamh’s left—“in the smaller park. It will take place in thirty minutes. I hope that meets with both of your approval.”

  While Emil and Kiyo agreed, Niamh couldn’t ignore the niggle in her gut. Since her pulse had been racing since leaving the hotel and butterflies had raged all day, it was hard to differentiate those feelings from what might be her sixth sense warning her of danger.

  Feeling her anxiety, Kiyo shot her a questioning look.

  I’m okay, she promised.

  But she was highly alert.

  “The mahoutsukai …” Sakura’s reference to her brought her attention back to the alpha. Sakura didn’t look at Niamh as she said, “Will remain here.”

  “Not a chance,” Kiyo replied. “Niamh stays with me.”

  “My fight, my rules.”

  Daiki stepped up beside Sakura. “I see no harm in letting Kiyo’s mate stay with him.”

  Sakura looked like she’d tasted something sour but gave an abrupt nod. “Fine.”

  Daiki winked at Niamh.

  Oh, he was enjoying holding this true-mate thing over Sakura way too much.

  How awful, Niamh thought. To be stuck in a mating where there was nothing but unrequited feelings and resentment. Awful for Daiki. She couldn’t care less how Sakura felt. Especially as she wouldn’t stop staring at Kiyo like he was something she wanted very badly to own.

  Possessiveness welled inside her, and Niamh took a deep breath to contain it.

  At the feel of Kiyo’s hand on her lower back, she relaxed marginally and allowed him to guide her as they followed Sakura, Daiki, Haruto, and Emil through the park. Niamh couldn’t even enjoy the beauty of the arched wooden bridge that took them over a tranquil greenish-blue pond. The pathway beyond led through a cluster of trees and then out into another open park.

  It was much smaller than the other. There was no boxing ring. Just a circle in the middle of the swanky, gold-plated dining chairs. Men in suits and women in glamorous gowns filled the smaller seating area. Waiters and waitresses carrying trays of canapés and champagne and whisky floated around Sakura’s wealthy patrons as they waited patiently for the main event.

  Niamh’s searched for any sign of Astra.

  “Take a moment,” Daiki said to them as Sakura wandered off to introduce her guests to Emil. “Drink, eat, and enjoy both while you can. Emil has not lost a fight in ten years. We are hoping he loses this one, but I am also hoping he breaks a bone or two before he does.” Daiki smacked Kiyo hard on the shoulder. With a dark laugh, he sauntered off after his mate.

  Haruto hovered nearby, as if he’d been instructed not to let them out of his sight.

  A wave of panic rose through Niamh and she turned into Kiyo, resting her hands on his chest. As she stared up into his beautiful eyes, an ominous sensation was quick on the heels of panic. For a moment, it felt like this might be the last time she ever saw him.

  He gripped her elbows. “What is it?”

  Not wanting to voice something out loud that might upset him before the fight, she shook her head at her own nonsense. Her anxiety was getting the better of her. “I know you can handle yourself … I just don’t like the thought of anyone hurting you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll be watching.” She then spoke telepathically. You’ll only hear my voice in your head if Astra or anyone else is approaching.

  Kiyo nodded and gave her arms a gentle squeeze.

  What Niamh really wanted to say … what she wanted to tell him was something he already knew, even though she’d never said the words.

  She wanted to tell him she loved him.

  Yet his head needed to be in the fight. Not on her.

  And she didn’t want him to feel pressured to return the sentiment. He didn’t need to. For her, actions spoke so much louder than words. Anyone could tell you they loved you. But it was the showing of it that demonstrated its truth. And Kiyo had shown her that he loved her before he even knew it himself.

  “Kick his arse, yeah?” She laughed shakily.

  His answer was to kiss her. A sweet, languorous, luscious kiss that was given as if they had all the time in the world.

  They didn’t.

  Which was proven not long later when Haruto approached to tell them it was time.

  Kiyo nodded and shrugged out of his jacket, handing it to Niamh. His black T-shirt was whipped off and he handed that to her, too, his scent and heat on it proving a comfort as she watched him stride fluidly through the small crowd to meet Emil in the center of the park.

  Niamh watched Sakura whose eyes were trained on Kiyo.

  Uncertainty moved through Niamh.

  What if what Sakura felt for Kiyo wasn’t merely infatuation?

  What if she was dangerously obsessed with Niamh’s mate?

  But if that were true, wouldn’t she have spent the last twenty-five years searching for him?

  Something was off about it. Niamh just couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

  The sound of steel hitting steel startled her attention back to Kiyo. Niamh took a step toward the spectators. Her mate and his opponent were brandishing katana that had appeared from who knew where. Kiyo hadn’t told her this was a sword fight!

  While the seemingly civilized men and women watching jeered and snarled like wild animals as they rallied behind their chosen fighter (with the majority apparently behind Emil), Niamh’s entire focus was on her mate.

  It was the opposite of what she’d promised herself when she walked into that park.

  But watching Kiyo was hypnotizing. The crowds grew more agitated as his skill became more obvious. The way he moved was a like a dance. So graceful and powerful. Heat and love and pride suffused her watching him push Emil into a corner over and over again.

  Finally, his blade met flesh, scoring a cut across Emil’s pecs.

  The spectators went wild as Emil’s face darkened with anger.

  He came at Kiyo with harder blows, but her mate’s feet moved swiftly, agilely changing direction this way and that before powering back against Emil’s katana.

  “He’s bloody magnificent,” she murmured in awe.

  “Hai.” Sakura’s voice caught her off guard.

  Niamh startled, gazing down at the alpha who’d crept up on her.

  “I hear you are pretty magnificent too.” Her gaze flicked behind Niamh’s head. “Do it.”

  Before she could compute what was happening, something slammed into her lower back like a blade of the hottest fire. A hand clamped over her mouth as a wail of agony wrenched from her throat. Black dots peppered her vision as the misery of a pain she’d never experienced the like of overwhelmed her senses.

  34

  He’d been focused.

  Learning Emil’s tells, weaknesses, and strengths as quickly as possible.

  It was a balancing act. Giving the crowds a show but ending the fight as expeditiously as possible. Kiyo would allow this to draw out for another twenty minutes and then he’d end it so he and Niamh could get the hell out of there.

  Blocking Emil’s increasingly aggressive swing, sensation blasted into Kiyo, sending him stumbling backward.

  The feeling was pain.

  Agony.

  He felt it as if through a barrier.

  Like he felt Niamh’s emotions.

  Fear lurched in his chest as spun to stare out through the rows of spectators to where he’d left his mate.

  He couldn’t see her.

  Moving forward, he scanned the park, not seeing a familiar head of pale-blond hair.

  Or Sakura.

  Or Daiki or Haruto.

  Fire slammed into his temple, taking him to a knee, and he couldn’t see in his right eye.

  Blood.

  There was blood in his eye.

  Turning just in time to stop another blow from the hilt of Emil’s katana, Kiyo channeled all his fear and rage i
nto the German.

  He forced the hulking giant back and moved at supernatural speed, a blur, spinning until he was behind the wolf. With two quick slashes, he cut the wolf’s Achilles tendons and watched him sprawl to the grass in a roar of pain.

  Dropping his katana, he straddled Emil, took his head in hand, and snapped his neck.

  Then he was moving.

  Niamh.

  What had happened?

  Was it Astra?

  Why was Sakura, Daiki, and Haruto missing too?

  “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” A werewolf dressed in a tuxedo stood in his path. “Get back in there and give us a real fight.”

  Kiyo broke his neck in less than two seconds and watched in satisfaction as the rest of the complaining crowd melted away. He ran. He ran at full speed, cutting through the crowds as he followed his mate’s scent out of the park and into the city.

  The skies opened above him as if in answer to his anguish and rage. Kiyo cared nothing for the humans witnessing his super speed, for the way he lunged over moving cars like an animal in the jungle or the way he handled the rain-slicked streets the way an ice dancer’s skates became one with the ice.

  Humans in his way were shoved aside by his speed and strength, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t in him to care about anything but Niamh in that moment. It took him only five minutes to reach the hotel where Niamh’s scent was the strongest.

  Kiyo skidded to a stop across the street from the familiar building, his chest rising and falling, not with tiredness but fury. Sakura, the arrogant bitch, had kidnapped Niamh and taken her back to her own hotel.

  Did she really think she was powerful enough to withstand a war with Kiyo?

  Drawing in a deep breath, Kiyo zoned in on Niamh’s scent.

  The basement. Where the fights used to be held.

  He couldn’t feel her, though.

  He couldn’t think about what that meant.

  If he entered the hotel, their security cameras would alert them to his arrival.

  But what Sakura didn’t know was that her uncle had entrusted much knowledge to him.

  There was another way into that basement. Through the public subway.

  A woman hurrying down the street in a light green dress lifted her umbrella to see where she was going. She halted at the sight of Kiyo standing in the rain half-naked.