Page 172 of Dragon 7

Mirrored walls surrounded us. His reflection stood within them, showing how the night had sharpened every line of his face with blood, grief, and victory.

I rested in his arms. My body looked small against his. “Your mansion is beautiful.”

“Our mansion.”

“We’ll see. I have not decided to move to Tokyo just yet.”

“Very funny, Tora.”

I grinned.

He looked down at me. “How are you?”

“Due to my big, sexy dragon carrying me around, I’m doing just fine. I don’t know why I’m so tired.”

“You should be tired.”

“You too.”

“Yes, but you give me strength.”

My heart warmed.

The elevator carried us upward. We passed the first floor, the second, and then rose toward the third-floor master suite.

After that, my memories softened completely. He slowly undressed me, kissing my bare skin and groaning through the process. He dressed me in silk. Then, satin sheets brushed along my body.

Amber light glowed throughout the vast bedroom. Curtains moved gently before towering windows while Tokyo burned beautifully beyond the glass.

Kenji lowered me onto the bed, and then he lay beside me.

And his warmth settled around my body.

And his muscular arms closed around me.

And his chest returned beneath my cheek.

And his heartbeat found my ear again.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

This was what safety felt like. This was what being absolutely loved by a powerful man felt like. His arms became the container in which my nervous system finally let go.

The war had ended.

The island had faded behind us.

The dead would now only travel with us inside broken memories.

Our daughter would live within the ache we carried.

Surely, our grief entered the mansion beside us and settled into the shadows.

Hopefully, love entered with it and filled every space that sorrow had opened.