Bound by Forever (True Immortality #3) - S. Young Page 0,124
as Sakura wandered off to introduce her guests to Emil. “Drink, eat, and enjoy both while you can. Emil has not lost a fight in ten years. We are hoping he loses this one, but I am also hoping he breaks a bone or two before he does.” Daiki smacked Kiyo hard on the shoulder. With a dark laugh, he sauntered off after his mate.
Haruto hovered nearby, as if he’d been instructed not to let them out of his sight.
A wave of panic rose through Niamh and she turned into Kiyo, resting her hands on his chest. As she stared up into his beautiful eyes, an ominous sensation was quick on the heels of panic. For a moment, it felt like this might be the last time she ever saw him.
He gripped her elbows. “What is it?”
Not wanting to voice something out loud that might upset him before the fight, she shook her head at her own nonsense. Her anxiety was getting the better of her. “I know you can handle yourself … I just don’t like the thought of anyone hurting you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be watching.” She then spoke telepathically. You’ll only hear my voice in your head if Astra or anyone else is approaching.
Kiyo nodded and gave her arms a gentle squeeze.
What Niamh really wanted to say … what she wanted to tell him was something he already knew, even though she’d never said the words.
She wanted to tell him she loved him.
Yet his head needed to be in the fight. Not on her.
And she didn’t want him to feel pressured to return the sentiment. He didn’t need to. For her, actions spoke so much louder than words. Anyone could tell you they loved you. But it was the showing of it that demonstrated its truth. And Kiyo had shown her that he loved her before he even knew it himself.
“Kick his arse, yeah?” She laughed shakily.
His answer was to kiss her. A sweet, languorous, luscious kiss that was given as if they had all the time in the world.
They didn’t.
Which was proven not long later when Haruto approached to tell them it was time.
Kiyo nodded and shrugged out of his jacket, handing it to Niamh. His black T-shirt was whipped off and he handed that to her, too, his scent and heat on it proving a comfort as she watched him stride fluidly through the small crowd to meet Emil in the center of the park.
Niamh watched Sakura whose eyes were trained on Kiyo.
Uncertainty moved through Niamh.
What if what Sakura felt for Kiyo wasn’t merely infatuation?
What if she was dangerously obsessed with Niamh’s mate?
But if that were true, wouldn’t she have spent the last twenty-five years searching for him?
Something was off about it. Niamh just couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
The sound of steel hitting steel startled her attention back to Kiyo. Niamh took a step toward the spectators. Her mate and his opponent were brandishing katana that had appeared from who knew where. Kiyo hadn’t told her this was a sword fight!
While the seemingly civilized men and women watching jeered and snarled like wild animals as they rallied behind their chosen fighter (with the majority apparently behind Emil), Niamh’s entire focus was on her mate.
It was the opposite of what she’d promised herself when she walked into that park.
But watching Kiyo was hypnotizing. The crowds grew more agitated as his skill became more obvious. The way he moved was a like a dance. So graceful and powerful. Heat and love and pride suffused her watching him push Emil into a corner over and over again.
Finally, his blade met flesh, scoring a cut across Emil’s pecs.
The spectators went wild as Emil’s face darkened with anger.
He came at Kiyo with harder blows, but her mate’s feet moved swiftly, agilely changing direction this way and that before powering back against Emil’s katana.
“He’s bloody magnificent,” she murmured in awe.
“Hai.” Sakura’s voice caught her off guard.
Niamh startled, gazing down at the alpha who’d crept up on her.
“I hear you are pretty magnificent too.” Her gaze flicked behind Niamh’s head. “Do it.”
Before she could compute what was happening, something slammed into her lower back like a blade of the hottest fire. A hand clamped over her mouth as a wail of agony wrenched from her throat. Black dots peppered her vision as the misery of a pain she’d never experienced the like of overwhelmed her senses.
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He’d been focused.
Learning Emil’s tells, weaknesses, and strengths as quickly as possible.