Bound by Forever (True Immortality #3) - S. Young Page 0,91

a literal translation in English.”

“Japanese is beautiful,” Niamh said, feeling that beauty so deeply, her heart ached.

Sensing her sincerity, Kiyo’s countenance softened and he slowed so she could catch up to him.

“Do you have a favorite word like that?” she asked, curious about … well, everything about him.

“I do like komorebi,” he admitted. “I think of it every sunset in the woods before the full moon.” His brow furrowed. “My mother’s favorite was Takane no hana. Literally it translates to ‘flower on a high peak,’ but its actual meaning is ‘something that is beyond our reach.’”

Niamh’s felt a swell of compassion. “Your father?”

Kiyo nodded, eyes to the ground. “She loved him even after he left us. She loved him to her dying breath. He was her ikigai.” His tone changed as he forced levity into it. “Ikigai is someone’s reason for being. What makes them get up in the morning. It’s the convergence of four elements—passion, vocation, profession, and mission. In my mother’s case, the latter three played no part. It was passion for her. Who she loved.” His expression hardened. “No one person should ever be someone’s entire reason for being.”

It seemed like a warning, another example of him trying to push her away. But Niamh wasn’t having it. They’d come too far now. She wouldn’t let him spoil the mood. Continuing on in silence, she didn’t brood. She didn’t give in to the tension that pulsed between them.

She was here to enjoy the run.

Soon the light filtering through the trees was no longer sun but moonbeams. Kiyo let out a seemingly uncontrolled growl that reverberated up from his gut. He slowed to a stop and turned to her, his features strained between pleasure and pain.

Niamh’s pulse fluttered as she throbbed deep and hot between the legs.

Kiyo’s nostrils flared as if he sensed her arousal. “Change is coming,” he warned, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his joggers.

What she really wanted to do was get an eyeful of her wolfy protector, but she owed him more respect than that. Giving him her back, she tried not to let her imagination run wild as she heard the material of his joggers slide down his legs.

Goodness, that magnificent arse of his was on display again and what she wouldn’t give for another look at it.

She bit her lip to stem a bubble of girlish laughter.

All amusement died, however, as she heard Kiyo hit the ground behind her and let out a long moan of … pleasure? Her skin flushed hot and she spun around without thinking to watch his transformation. Last time she’d been too preoccupied with a vision to witness him in wolf form.

Kiyo was on his hands and knees, his head thrown back as he let out a half-human, half-animal howl. All the hair on Niamh’s body rose. Her pulse raced.

The surrounding energy amplified, throbbing beyond him to affect her. She could feel his pleasure and the slight burn of pain that didn’t do anything to detract from the bliss of the change.

And then his claws sprang free, making her jolt back, startled.

Huge, shining black claws that were utterly lethal.

A crack sounded as his jaw elongated, and he growled unintelligibly as sharp teeth filled his mouth, two big fecking canines slicing into view. His arm snapped the wrong way, making Niamh flinch, and then his legs popped and cracked, too, his ankles shifting and lengthening into hindquarters. Thick, black, shining fur pushed through his skin in patches and clumps, like the magically accelerated growth of grass through the soil.

And then Kiyo was no longer a man.

He was now a great big, bloody black werewolf, twice the size of a regular wolf.

A howl burst forth from his snout.

Niamh gaped, wanting to approach him but not sure what the etiquette was.

Then his head snapped toward her, his nostrils flaring, and Niamh almost smiled. She could still see Kiyo behind those large, dark eyes.

“Well, aren’t you unfairly beautiful in any form,” she teased with a smile.

Kiyo made a chuffing sound.

“I’m not sure what the polite thing is here … but … I don’t suppose I could touch you, could I?” she asked tentatively because he wasn’t the cuddliest person when in human form.

To her surprise, Kiyo padded toward her, the muscles in his legs flexing. Jesus Christ, his head was at chest height. A head he lowered for her to touch.

Warmth suffused Niamh as she reached out and ran her hand over his soft fur. “You’re a big fella, aren’t you,”