Bound by Forever (True Immortality #3) - S. Young Page 0,123
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 explained. “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.