Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 772(@200wpm)___ 617(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
“Aww. That must be it.”
“Yeah.”
“Then, I’ll make sure I put torturing him on my list for this evening.” He smirked. “But until then. . .”
I grinned.
He licked his lips. "I'll see you soon."
"Where?"
A dangerous smile spread across his face. "You'll see."
His hand found my jaw and tilted my face up, but his fingers didn't stay there. They drifted lower. Down the side of my neck. Slow. Like he had nowhere else to be. And stopped right where his teeth always went.
I shivered.
His thumb pressed into the bite mark.
Gentle at first.
Then not.
A sound left me that I didn't plan.
"Mmmm.” He bit his lip and then calmed his expression. “Still sore?"
"Yes."
“Good.” His thumb pressed harder. A dull, sweet ache bloomed from the mark and spread down through my breasts, my belly, lower to my pussy, settling hot and liquid.
I moaned and my knees almost gave out.
“Mmmm.” He moved his thumb from the bite and pressed one more kiss to my forehead.
Soft.
Tender.
Then he pulled back, and I caught it.
Just a flicker.
His eyes dropped to my mouth. Then lower—my neck, my collarbone, the place where my pulse hammered beneath my skin.
His jaw tightened.
His hand curled into a fist at his side.
He wanted to stay.
Every line of his body said so.
But he stepped back.
And then he was gone.
Fuck.
I stood in the doorway of my transformed office with my lips still tingling and my heart racing.
What are we going to do today?
I turned around and stepped further inside.
The woman with the silver-streaked chignon approached me. "The Dragon chose this gown for you.”
“Okay.” I walked toward the stand near the window. “This is so beautiful.”
At first glance, the gown was truly fire—reds, oranges, golds. But then, I stepped closer, and my breath became shallow.
After this morning—the pyre, the bodies, the flames climbing toward an ash-choked sky—fire should have repulsed me. Should have sent me spiraling back into that dark place where I couldn't breathe.
But I couldn't look away.
Because the longer I stared, the more I saw something else too.
At the hem, where the deepest crimsons pooled like embers, delicate feathers had been stitched into the fabric.
Subtle.
Almost hidden.
The tiny feathers curled upward along the skirt, growing lighter as they rose—scarlet feathers becoming vermillion, vermillion becoming gold.
And at the bodice, where the brightest flames blazed, the structure lifted like wings unfurling.
Oh my.
The architectural lines swept upward from the waist, and those golden feathers took flight at the neckline.
A phoenix.
My heart stuttered.
It wasn't just a fire gown. It was a phoenix gown. A creature born from flame. A thing that blazed and rose anyway.
What is he saying with this gown? Or am I putting too much symbolism on this?
Someone cleared their throat.
I turned.
A woman with a velvet case rose from her chair and approached.
“The Dragon wants you to wear this with the gown.” She opened the case before me.
Diamonds.
But not ordinary ones.
These diamonds glowed amber and tangerine. They were flames trapped inside jewels.
"They’re fire diamonds." She lifted them out of the box. "Extremely rare."
“Gorgeous.” I stared at the necklace, the earrings, and the delicate bracelet. Each stone blazed with color, throwing warm light across the velvet.
I’m not imagining things. He is definitely leaning into symbolism.
He'd given me fire to wear around my throat.
Fire for my ears.
Fire for my wrist.
After a morning of ash and death, Kenji was draping me in flames and asking me to rise like a phoenix.
"We have ninety minutes," the silver-haired woman said. "Shall we begin?"
I looked at the phoenix gown.
At the fire diamonds.
At the team of women waiting to transform me.
Fire had tried to break me this morning.
Maybe it was time to wear it instead.
"Yes. Let's begin."
Chapter fourteen
Omakase
Nyomi
An hour later, I barely recognized myself.
The women had worked in near silence—pinning my thick braids up simply, keeping my makeup minimal, letting the gown do the talking.
And God, did it talk.
I stood before a full-length mirror they'd brought in and saw a woman in the reflection I'd never met.
She was flame.
She was power.
The fabric moved when I moved, catching light and throwing color. The bodice hugged my curves like it had been made for my body specifically. The skirt whispered against my legs with every step.
I touched the diamond necklace and then smiled.
Naughty Dragon. I like this surprise.
"This way." One of the women gestured toward the door.
I followed.
We moved through the mansion in silence. Down corridors. Past rooms.
My heels clicked against marble. The sound echoed.
And then we stopped.
I knew these doors.
Hold on. Is this where we’re really going?
My stomach dropped.
The war room?
I looked at the women, but they were already stepping back, bowing slightly, and then leaving me alone in front of the massive double doors.
Why here?
The last time I'd walked through these doors, I'd been playing the role of sexy vixen. Form-fitting outfit. Bouncing breasts. Swaying hips. Clicking six-inch heels.
Every man in the room had stopped breathing when I entered.