I had to change the subject, if only to give my heart a few minutes to catch up. I swallowed. “Why can’t you really go to sleep?”

  “I told you.”

  “That’s bullshit. You’re horny, but you’re exhausted.”

  His eyes didn’t move, but his jaw twitched.

  “Something is on your mind. Or maybe. . .a lot of somethings are on your mind.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  I tilted my head, studying him like I’d studied so many before. “Your face is giving it away.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “It is.”

  He smiled. “Tell me how.”

  “The set of your mouth. The way you’re watching me without blinking, like if you blink, the thoughts will escape. That tightness around your eyes that I believe comes when you’re not angry, but you’re stressing about something that’s really heavy.”

  His hand tightened on my hip, almost reflexive, as if to stop me from peeling him open. “So you think you can read me?”

  “Am I right or wrong?”

  “You’re right.”

  I shrugged. “But. . .you’re also at war with your father, so maybe what I said is just a good guess in the context of the situation. Anyone would reasonably think you are stressed.”

  Kenji’s eyes narrowed a fraction, the kind of shift most people wouldn’t even notice. “Let’s test this.”

  “What?” My brows lifted. “Test it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m intrigued.”

  I caught it—the smallest flare at the corner of his mouth, the briefest twitch of muscle along his jaw, like his face couldn’t quite hold the burden of a big lie. His gaze slid away from mine for half a second before snapping back, too sharp, too quick.

  I leaned closer, studying him the way I’d studied a hundred men who thought they could bluff their way through an interview. “No. You’re not intrigued. You’re hiding something else. The little tells give you away—your mouth twitches, your jaw goes rigid, your eyes can’t hold mine for more than a beat without overcompensating. You’re scared to tell me the truth.”

  His nostrils flared. “Careful, Tora.”

  Fear coiled in me, yes, but so did fire. I wanted his secrets, his shadows, his truths. I wanted to drag every hidden thing out of him, claws first if I had to. I steadied my next words. “Why do I have to be careful?”

  “I don’t like to be easily read.”

  “We’re naked. You’ve been inside my body. You’ve bit my flesh and drank my blood like a vampire. If anyone is going to be able to easily read you. . .it will be me.”

  His eyes glinted, dangerous and molten, but his voice came out low and sensual. “You already have my heart and my cock. You have my soul. You don’t need my fucking brain too.”

  “Yet,” I whispered, brushing my fingers along the hard line of his jaw, “I want it all.”

  A dark chuckle left him. “Greedy Tiger.”

  “You’re one to talk. You’ve swallowed my life whole. Every cell within me belongs to you.”

  He moved his hand up and gripped my chin. “That’s because you’re mine.”

  I thought back to what he said in the shower. “Apparently I’m yours in this life and others.”

  “Correct.” His mouth curved into a sneer, beautiful and cruel all at once, like he was trying to remind me who the predator was. “Who do you belong to, Tora?”

  “You.”

  “Say it again.”

  The command throbbed between us.

  My body hummed, vibrating at the edge of fear and want. My pulse stuttered, but I didn’t look away. “I’m all yours, Kenji.”

  He exhaled, rough, and for a heartbeat I saw the flicker of surrender in his dangerous eyes, the momentary crack in the fortress he carried across his skin. His grip on my chin tightened, then loosened like he didn’t know if he wanted to cage me or worship me. “Yes. I have a lot on my mind. And yes, I have a reason I want to test you. And yes, I don’t want to tell you the truth.”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “The test first.”

  “Why are you testing me?”

  “I will tell you later.”

  “You will tell me now.”

  He sneered.

  I did my best to sneer back at him.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t have the same effect. He widened his eyes and laughed.

  I frowned.

  After a few seconds, Kenji’s laugh tapered off, low and jagged at the edges, like it scraped his throat raw. He leaned closer, and his scent brushed against my lips as he spoke, “We do the test first, then I’ll tell you why. Can you trust me, Tora?”

  “Only if you can trust me.”

  His jaw flexed too hard, the muscle twitching like it was fighting restraint. And his eyes, those dangerous, molten eyes, didn’t burn with desire this time. They flickered. A shadow moved through them, quick but undeniable.

  My chest tightened.

  It wasn’t lust that lined his face in this moment. It was stress. Not the ordinary kind either—not fatigue, not tension from war plans with his father. This was heavier. The kind of fear that pressed into bone and marrow.

  What’s going on?

  Testing me was such an odd thing as we lay in bed naked. I couldn’t even think of why he would want to and how it could even deal with the war he had going on. But my curiosity for the strange test won over my need for answers right now.

  “Okay.” I shrugged. “Test me.”

  Kenji’s mouth curved, but not with humor. “Good.”

  Then he sat up.

  The sheets slid from his body, and for a moment I just stared, stunned that he’d actually moved. My lips parted, my chest stuttered with a shallow breath.

  Wait—what?

  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and reached for his pants.

  “Kenji?” I pushed up on my elbows, heart pounding. “What are you doing?”

  He didn’t answer. Just stepped into the dark slacks and dragged them up his thighs with methodical precision. “Put on your robe. We’re going to have visitors.”

  “Visitors?”

  “Yes.”

  I blinked at him, caught between disbelief and a rush of unease. “What? Kenji, you need to go to sleep.”

  “After the test.” His voice was flat, almost cold. “I promise.”

  I shook my head. “What sort of test needs visitors? What’s going on?”

  “Do as I say, Tora.” He looked at me then. Not Kenji, not the man who had whispered love against my skin seconds ago. His eyes burned hotter, narrowing like blades being sharpened, and for a second I swore the air itself knelt to him. The room itself shifted with that stare, and then that dragon-shadow began to rise behind him.

  My stomach clenched.

  The intimacy we’d shared moments before collapsed into a suffocating pressure against my chest. A moment ago, his body had been my fortress.

  Now it was a citadel under siege, menacing shadows leaking through the cracks.

  Silence stretched.

  He buttoned his pants.

  I swallowed hard.

  Kenji is gone. Only the Dragon is here now.

  “Alright.” With stiff fingers, I reached for the robe at the foot of the bed and slid it on.

  The silk caressed my bare skin.

  “Good.” He gave me a short nod, strode to the door, and turned the lights on in the bedroom. “I’ll be right back.”

  Where the hell are you going?

  The door clicked shut behind him.

  And I sat there, robe wrapped tight around me, heart thrashing in my chest.

  What the fuck?

  Chapter two

  The Test

  Nyomi

  The door opened.

  Kenji stepped back inside, and the world I’d just been safe in—the bed, the caresses, the warmth—snapped into a harder shape.

  The air thinned.

  Behind Kenji, three men poured through the threshold radiating quiet menace that made the room shrink around my shoulders.

  O-kay. . .

  Reo came too, silent and with a small notebook in his right hand.

  What the hell is going on? Why does he need all of these people?

  I stood immediately, silk robe tight against my skin, heart hammering in my chest.

  A moment ago, I had been folded into a sensual forever made of breath and skin. Now it felt like my future had sharp teeth that could tear me open.

  This wasn’t about pillow talk anymore. Not about love confessions or teasing chuckles against my spine.

  This was about something larger, heavier, sharper.

  Deadlier.

  Kenji wanted me to do something for him, something that smelled like strategy, blood, and war.

  What could this test be about?

  My pulse spiked with excitement and dread.

  Until this moment, I’d believed my place in his war would be at the edges—cooking meals, tending wounds, offering a soft voice to brutal men who brought the night home on their boots.

  But now?

  The Dragon had summoned me to the center of some secret plan, and. . .I had no idea why.

  Kenji crossed the room and came to stand at my side. He brushed the small of my back with his big palm. It was a simple pass of heat, but it anchored me.

  I breathed in his scent and let it calm my nerves.

  I had so many damned questions, but his men were now in the room. I didn’t want to barrel him with my hysteria. I needed to play the part of the Dragon’s Heart—confident, strong, and capable of whatever the fuck this was.

  On the left side of the room, Reo leaned against the wall. Even half-shadowed, he looked unfairly gorgeous—like a mafia nerd that had been dragged out of an expensive library.

  He wore traditional black Japanese pajamas. They weren’t the cotton button-downs and drawstring pants Americans called pajamas, no plaid flannel or cartoon prints.

  Zo had something similar and told me they were called jinbei, a two-piece set cut like a short kimono on top with matching pants.

  The top overlapped left over right across Reo’s chest, held by narrow inner and outer ties instead of buttons. Reo’s jinbei hung open just enough to reveal the ladder of his collarbones. The sleeves were half-length and loose. The pants were straight-legged.

  It was all elegance disguised as sleepwear.

  Reo looked freshly woken too—hair mussed, a shadow of sleep at the corners of his eyes—but the faint smile playing on his mouth for some reason said he’d been waiting for this moment and was super excited that it was about to happen.

  Reo flipped the notebook open and clicked a pen. Then, his gaze caught mine. He winked. “You will do just fine, Nyomi.”

  I swallowed hard, wondering if he’d actually be scoring me like some professor grading a student on an exam.

  Reo’s smirk definitely said he knew something I didn’t, and the notebook in his hand wasn’t for records—it was also for leverage.

  But how, why, and leverage with whom?

  At my side, Kenji’s hand tightened at my waist. “Tora, I want you to look at these three men. Take them in, and then let me know when you are done.”

  What am I supposed to be looking for?

  I wasn’t sure if Kenji was testing my skill or my soul, but either way, I wanted to win.

  Alright. Let’s see. . .

  I dragged my gaze to the three men Kenji had brought in. They were three shadows solidified into muscle, danger, and flesh.

  I knew one of them.

  Kaoru.

  His long pink hair was a neon slash in the room. The first time I’d seen him was on Kenji’s and my first date. He’d been sweet and a tiny bit flirtatious.

  Definitely a ladies’ man.

  However, now all that charm was off, folded away with the same efficiency as a weapon cleaned and cased. The angles of his face were too beautiful and too sharp all at once—cheekbones cut by a vindictive god, a mouth that could ruin hope. His suit perfectly hugged his body.

  However, even at rest, Kaoru appeared ready to kill.

  Got him. Now who’s next?

  I put my view on the other two men.

  The man on the left—broad through the chest, narrower at the hips, posture welded straight. His hair was buzzed close at the sides, left slightly longer on top, combed flat like a habit he didn’t have to think about.

  Shoes matte, not glossy.

  Combat ready.

  There was angry scar tissue on his knuckles and neck.

  He lives close to violence, not just orders it. Plus, his posture says soldier, but his silence says elite killer.

  I looked closer. He had scars on his neck and near his ears, but. . .they didn’t look like they had come from fighting.

  Some sort of rash. . .maybe. . .

  As I watched him, he scratched the side of his face like he had a major itch that he was trying to avoid touching.

  What’s up with that?

  Either way, he gave the vibe of a drill sergeant that got hard from folding their bed sheet so tight he could bounce a quarter off it.

  He watched me without blinking, and I filed that away too.

  If he blinks too much. Then. . .that’s his tell. Okay. Let’s go to the other guy.

  The last man on the right looked like sin washed in ritual. He wore white from throat to ankle, a long collarless jacket tailored close over straight trousers.

  White should have made him look softer. It didn’t. However, it at least made the stillness around him sharper. He was the knife you’d missed because the light blinded you.

  His hair fell to his waist in an immaculate braid, smooth as a river pulled through fingers.

  No facial hair.

  No visible tattoos.

  His hands were so goddamn beautiful that I was actually jealous—long fingers, trimmed nails, the faintest sheen at his cuticles like someone oiled them daily for him.

  He definitely didn’t do it himself. His whole look and facial expression is giving high levels of PAMPERED.

  On his wrist, a bracelet of something pale—bone? Ivory?—was stacked with a gold chain of jeweled beads that appeared very much real and even. . .ancient.

  That wasn’t bought from a store. That was passed down many, many times.

  He stood with his weight centered over the arches of both feet, a dancer’s neutral position, poised to pivot without warning.

  When he breathed, his shoulders barely moved.

  Minimalist style? He’s probably super wealthy? Definitely didn’t starve as a kid, and did not grow up on the streets either.

  In fact, this wasn’t the wealth you flashed in clubs; this was dynastic, temple-deep wealth, the kind that could buy a bloodline.

  He looked at me and did not look away. There was no challenge in it, just this air of boredom.

  He’s not pleased to be here, but he will do so out of fierce loyalty to Kenji.

  I wondered what Kenji had done to get such great loyalty from such a wealthy man. That fact would be super important for some reason.

  “Okay.” I drew a slow breath and put my gaze back on Kenji. “I’m done.”

  “Good, Tora. Do you have any questions so far?”

  “I know Kaoru. But what are the other men’s names?”

  Something sharp flickered over Kenji’s face.

  Rage?

  Jealousy?

  He definitely didn’t like me remembering Kaoru’s name.

  Reo scribbled something.

  Moving his hand from my back, Kenji put on a forced calm expression, but I could still feel the Dragon simmering angrily beneath. “You don’t need to know their names at this time.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you ready for your test?”

  My mouth went dry. “Yes.”

  The faintest curve touched his mouth. “Each man will say three statements about himself. Two statements will be true. One statement will be a lie.”

  “And I have to spot the lie?”

  “Correct.”

  “Any other rules?”

  “You may ask them one question for each of the three sentences they say. Obviously, you can’t ask them about which statement they are lying about.”

  “Got it. So. . .one question per statement?”

  He nodded. “No more than one for each statement, so choose carefully.”

  “So. . .I can ask three questions per man?”

  “Yes.”

  “And their answers to my questions. . .are they obligated to tell the truth?”

  “Yes. They will answer your questions truthfully.”

  Reo’s pen paused over his notebook as if he’d been expecting my barrage. The corner of his mouth tipped up.

  Kenji didn’t look at him; he watched only me.

  Three statements. One lie. Two truths.

  I eyed Kenji. “Time limit?”

  Reo’s voice slid in, smooth. “You have two minutes with each man. That's total. If you waste it on your first question, the clock won’t forgive you.”

  “Alright.” I put my view back on Kenji. “Can I ask the same question to more than one man?”

  “You may.”

  “Can I ask a trick question? Something that corners him? Or is that considered out of bounds?”

  Reo clicked his pen once, clearly amused. “You can be as clever as you like. However, remain focused. You are testing their truthfulness.”

  Aww. So you want to see if I can quickly tell when a person is lying without much information or conversation. Why?

  Now I was getting why Kenji brought extra men in. He knew I could already catch him in a lie so there would be no reason for him to be the test.

  However, three men I didn’t know. . .that would be a good gauge of my skills.

  This wasn’t just going to be a test of lies either, it would be a duel.

  Me versus them.

  Their composure against my instinct.

  Kenji’s pride against my wit.

  Well. . .this is interesting as hell.

  I steadied myself, hoping I got this right.

  Bring it on then. This test could be fun.

  “I have another question.” I studied Kenji, pulse fluttering like a moth too close to fire. “Can I touch them?”

  The room shifted.