Bound by Forever (True Immortality #3) - S. Young Page 0,67

found immortality such an awful prospect. It reminded her of Thea and how she’d felt about the possibility of forever, alone as one of the fae.

“No one is invincible in the human world, Kiyo.” Niamh tentatively touched his arm this time. True immortality only exists on Faerie.

His head bent toward her, his eyes hard as he whispered, “I’ve had everything imaginable happen to me over the last century and a half. Trust me, nothing can kill me. You saw what happened when the dagger pierced my heart.”

Trust me, Kiyo, she replied. You’re not invincible, and there’s something in Tokyo to prove it. She may not know about it now, but Astra will learn of it. That’s what my vision, this real vision, is warning me about. We have to go to Tokyo to protect you. She curled her hand around his arm and felt longing ripple through her as he glanced down at where she held him. But the longing felt foreign … it wasn’t her longing. It was his. His for her.

It couldn’t be.

Only true mates could sense each other’s feelings, and Niamh knew that happened between them from the moment they met.

She shook off the bizarre sensation, putting it down to her crush on him.

Ironic, she joked, trying to ease the sudden tension. Fionn hires you to protect me and yet it seems by merely getting involved in this crazy faerie story, I’ll have to protect you instead.

Kiyo looked decidedly unimpressed with her teasing, pulling back his upper lip to snarl under his breath.

Niamh laughed, if only to cover that his snarl caused a rush of sexy, tingly feelings low and deep in her belly and between her legs.

Damn the wolf for distracting her so badly when they were in the middle of a bloody war.

16

What was around two o’clock in the morning for them was nine in the morning in Tokyo.

Jet lag didn’t affect Kiyo, but he wished he’d had more sleep before landing at Narita International.

Almost three decades had passed since the last time he was in Tokyo, and the events of his last visit meant he was on high alert as he led Niamh through the airport.

“Bran booked us into the Natsukashii in Chūō City. I don’t know what it’s like,” he said, “but if it’s too conspicuous, I’ll move us somewhere else.”

“Conspicuous?”

“If it’s a luxury hotel.” He frowned. “I know you like nice hotels, but we’re trying to stay under the radar.”

Niamh scowled at him. “I can live without luxury, believe me.”

At her clipped tone, Kiyo dragged his eyes away and continued following the signs for the express train at the airport.

It was amazing what a few hours could do.

Suffice it to say, Kiyo had not liked the sudden vulnerability he felt when he realized what he’d divulged to Niamh. He could see how much his words had helped her, and so he was satisfied. He wouldn’t regret telling her about his mother.

But there was an air of connection between them that was worse than any attraction he felt.

And Kiyo needed to nip it in the bud.

After returning to his own suite, he’d feigned sleep so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. Upon waking, he’d been monosyllabic in reply to her perky chatter. There was an aura around her that hadn’t been there before. A lightness. As if the knowledge of this Astra bitch’s manipulation had taken a weight off her shoulders.

When the flight attendant offered them a Japanese bento box for their breakfast, Niamh’s friendly prattle and delight over the traditional meal should have been annoying. It wasn’t.

“I can’t make the chopsticks work.” She practically pouted. She who could conjure nearly anything on the planet.

Trying to suppress a smirk, Kiyo leaned into her suite and gestured for her to lift her hand with the chopsticks. He took one from her. “Hold the upper chopstick like a pencil,” he instructed, “about a third of the way from the top. Got it?”

He proceeded to show her how to use the eating utensils, ignoring her beaming smile all the while. Niamh had gripped noodles from the bento box with her chopsticks and managed to use them with an ease that made her laugh in triumph. “Arigatō.”

Kiyo had raised an eyebrow at her use of Japanese and her decent pronunciation. His expression had caused her to laugh again.

“It’s the only word I know.”

Something about the exchange on top of their earlier cozy, soul-bearing conversation made him clam up.

At first, Niamh, sensing something was wrong, had asked