Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 539(@300wpm)
Admiration?
Confusion?
Awe?
I didn't understand this. Didn't understand her ability to see beyond her own feelings to the lives of three women who posed a threat—however small—to what we had. The empathy it took to weigh their futures against her comfort. The strength it took to even consider keeping them when every possessive instinct probably screamed to eliminate the competition.
If the situation were reversed—if she had three men who'd served her since childhood, who looked at her with devotion and barely concealed want—I wouldn't be sitting here calmly discussing their lives and futures.
I'd have killed them.
Right in front of her.
Without hesitation.
Without mercy.
Without a single fucking thought about their hopes, dreams, or the lives they'd built.
The image flashed through my mind with crystalline clarity: three male bodies at her feet, blood pooling on expensive flooring, my hands still wet with their blood while I told her they were gone and would never look at her again.
That was who I was.
That was the Dragon she'd claimed.
But here she sat, worrying about breaking them. Trying to navigate an impossible situation with both strength and grace. Thinking about people who weren't her, who might want what was hers, and still considering their humanity.
I don’t understand but. . .maybe she can teach me something I've never learned.
This woman—with her impossible kindness and steel spine—was going to be the mother of my children.
She’ll be an amazing mother. Kind and loving like mine.
The thought settled into my chest like a hot coal.
She didn't know it yet. Didn't know that I'd already chosen her for forever. That I was just waiting for the right moment to make her understand that she wasn't just my Tiger.
My Heart.
She was going to be my wife.
I smiled.
She sighed. “I don’t want to make the decision right now.”
“Okay.”
“But. . .I would like our moment right now to be private.”
“Understood.” I gestured to one of my guards standing near the base of the stone steps—Takahashi, a man who'd been with me for eight years and knew when to speak and when to simply obey. He approached immediately, his expression neutral but his eyes flashing with curiosity.
The door slid open, and immediately the scent of salt and plumeria rushed in—so different from the recycled cabin air we'd been breathing. The heat hit next, wrapping around us like silk. Below, I could hear the distant crash of waves against the shore and the rustling of palm fronds in the ocean breeze.
"Have the Scales escorted back to the main island." I kept my voice low. “Tell them they're free to enjoy their day. Whatever they choose."
Takahashi bowed, turned around, and then hurried toward where Yuki, Mami, and Hina stood waiting.
I felt Nyomi tense slightly against me, her eyes tracking the guard's movement.
From our position on the helipad, we had a perfect view.
Takahashi approached the three women and spoke quietly. Even from this distance, I could see the moment his words registered.
Yuki's face remained composed—the philosopher maintaining her control—but her hand moved to her throat for just a second before she dropped it back to her side.
A tell.
A crack in the armor.
Mami's eyes widened, darting between Takahashi and the helicopter. Her fingers found her right sleeve—that nervous habit she'd never quite broken—and adjusted it even though it didn't need adjusting.
Seeking order in confusion.
But it was Hina who made my chest tighten.
The youngest.
The dreamer.
The one who still believed in happy endings.
Her smile died completely. Her shoulders dropped, and for a moment she looked so young, so lost. She stared directly at the helicopter—but not at me. Her eyes locked on Nyomi with an intensity that felt almost. . .assessing.
Then her gaze shifted to me, and the devastation returned. What did I do wrong? That question was written in every line of her body.
Yuki touched Hina's shoulder—gentle, grounding—and said something I couldn't hear. Hina nodded slowly, but the hurt didn't leave her eyes.
The three of them bowed in perfect unison, their garnet uniforms bright against the white sand and green foliage. Then they turned to follow Takahashi up a different path that would lead them to the helicopters designated for staff.
But Hina looked back.
Just once.
Her eyes found mine across the distance, and I wasn’t sure about her expression.
Confusion?
Sadness?
Searching for an answer?
Or perhaps it was just resignation.
Hina turned away. Her shoulders squared as she disappeared into the tree line with Yuki and Mami flanking her like guards.
"Hmmm." Nyomi's voice went tight and she gripped my hand harder.
"What?"
"That look." She frowned, still staring at where the Scales had disappeared. "The third one. Hina. Right?”
“Yes.”
She tilted her head and continued to watch that area. “Something about the way she looked at me first, before she looked at you. . ."
"What about it, Tora?"
"I don't know." She shook her head, as if trying to clear it. "It just. . .made my stomach tighten.”
“Why?”
“Maybe I'm being paranoid. But it didn't feel like heartbreak. It felt like. . ." She paused, searching for words. "Like she was studying me. Measuring me."