Pure Evil

“Oh, how the wicked, evil darkness loves the pure and shining light.”

The night was eerily quiet, and the sky, painted by the full red moon, felt unnaturally bright. Its crimson glow bathed the world in a surreal light, as though the land had slipped into a dream. If only it were a dream, Vu thought. She had longed to escape reality for some time now.

Torii had gone off to Kaya after spotting her soul stealers in the area. Masakage had disappeared into the bushes, Shino’s playful giggles trailing behind him. And as always, Vu was left alone by the fire, its flickering light offering no comfort.

She closed her eyes for a moment, the weight of old wounds pressing down on her. They almost forced me to give up Sukeuji… It still haunted her, the way Shino and Masakage had turned against her, arguing relentlessly until she felt cornered. She had gone home to gather supplies, only to return and find they had handed her precious cub over to a group of wolves—a group they knew nothing about. When word came weeks later that the entire group had been slaughtered, including young Sukeuji, her world had shattered. Yokai hunters had mistaken them for shard seekers and wiped them out without hesitation.

Even now, the apologies from Shino, Masakage, and even Torii felt like empty words. How could she ever feel the same toward them? The trust between them had died that day, as surely as Sukeuji had.

That was three years ago. Vu’s gaze lingered on the fire, its orange glow dancing in her dark eyes. The crackling embers did little to thaw the cold she felt deep inside.

A rustling sound broke her thoughts. Through half-lidded eyes, she watched as Masakage and Shino returned from the bushes. Masakage tugged at his robes, straightening them before slipping his hand into Shino’s. They didn’t bother with a glance her way, not even a quiet goodnight. They simply crawled into their shared sleeping bag, smiling and curling into each other, lost in their private world.

A pang of disgust and envy flared in Vu’s chest. She stood abruptly, slipping away from the camp, the night air cool against her skin.

She reached the small clearing where she always waited for Sol, the only one who ever came when she was truly alone. Above her, the red moon hung like an omen, casting an ominous glow over the trees. Its light made the world feel wrong, like a warning of the darkness ahead. But tonight was different. Something was shifting, and she could feel it deep within her. Bad things always happen, but tonight will change everything, she thought.

Her heart raced as she sensed his presence. When Sol stepped into the clearing, the red light of the moon washed over him, turning his features sharp and impossibly beautiful. For a moment, his icy gaze softened as it met hers. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat. The way he looked at her—just for that brief instant—was enough to make hope bloom painfully in her chest.

But as quickly as it came, the warmth vanished. His eyes returned to their cold, distant stare, the same one he gave to everyone else. Vu bit her lip and looked away, gathering her courage. The words she had held back for so long burned at the back of her throat. Tonight, she would finally speak her heart’s desire, no matter how much it hurt.

“Sol-sama,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she met his gaze. He looked down at her, his expression as cold as ever. “What… what do you think of me?”

“Nothing,” came his blunt reply.

The word struck her like a physical blow. She flinched, her breath catching in her throat. “N-Nothing?” she stammered, struggling to keep the pain from breaking through. “What do you mean… nothing?”

“Have you grown dimwitted, Miko?” His voice was colder than the night air. “This Sol thinks nothing of you, mortal. You, Miko, are nothing. Your species is nothing—disgusting, greedy, disrespectful. Lowly creatures, a waste of space.”

He spoke as if her very existence repulsed him, his gaze fixed on the blood-red moon above.

Vu felt her heart twist painfully, her hand instinctively clutching the fabric above her chest. “I thought…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s the problem, Miko. You thought,” he spat, his tone dripping with disdain. “As a female—a ningen female—you shouldn’t strain your tiny mind with such foolishness. You are only a means to an end. If it weren’t for Nagafusa attacking your group time and time again, this Sol would never have burdened himself with your weak little band.”

He never once looked at her as he spoke, his eyes remaining locked on the red moon as if she didn’t matter at all.

The words were too much. Vu couldn’t bear it any longer. She turned and fled, her vision blurring with tears as she ran from the clearing. The sound of her retreating footsteps and the scent of her sorrow filled the air.

Sol’s clawed hands twitched. The scent of her tears tore at something deep within him, and for a moment, his black heart ached. The creature inside him howled in silent rage at the cruelty of his own words. It was for the best, he told himself. But the ache in his chest lingered, even as he tried to ignore it.

He sighed, glancing at the tree line where she had disappeared. His sharp gaze caught the faintest hint of movement—eyes watching them from the shadows. He knew what lurked there, even if she didn’t. Sol would not allow himself to fall into the same trap as his half-brother.

His eyes flicked down to his newly healed arm, the one restored by the Miko he had just insulted so viciously. The ache in his heart deepened for a moment before he shook his head, pushing the feelings aside.

The final battle is coming, he thought. Now is not the time for sentiment.

Without another glance toward where Vu had vanished, Sol turned and walked away.

---

Oh, how the Pure and Shining Light loves the Wicked Darkness…

She didn’t make it far before her legs gave way beneath her, and she collapsed onto the ground, sobbing. The pain in her heart was unbearable, as if it were being torn apart. Nothing made sense anymore—the world was spinning out of control, and a fire burned within her soul, fierce and unfamiliar. Each breath felt like it was weighed down by stones, and the dark night seemed to close in around her, suffocating her in its embrace.

She didn’t stir when a dark aura wrapped around her own, its presence heavy and menacing. She didn’t even flinch as it settled beside her, enveloping her in shadow.

“Those dogs could never love you,” came a low voice, smooth and full of sorrow. “They’re too full of themselves to give you the love you deserve.”

“I hate all of them,” she whispered harshly, her voice broken and raw.

“As you should,” the voice agreed.

“But I shouldn’t…” she bit back, the purity within her soul fighting against the darkness trying to consume her.

“And why not? Look at what they’ve done to you. First, you were passed over for a corpse. Then, the ones you called friends sent your son to his death, without a second thought. The ones you call family laugh at your pain, wrapped up in their own happiness, while you suffer. And tonight, you were insulted—your heart crushed—by a high and mighty lord who sees you as nothing more than dirt beneath his boots. He spent hours with you, and gave you false hope, only to shatter your heart for his own amusement. You should hate them.”

His voice was soft yet laced with venom, every word sinking into her wounded heart. It was as if he understood her pain too intimately and knew exactly what to say to make the anguish flare again.

“Then kill me,” she rasped, her voice trembling. “That’s what you came for, right? To take the Relic Shards… and my life?”

Her breathing was ragged, a battle raging within her, but she no longer cared. The pain was too much, and the darkness felt too inviting.

“You’re wrong,” he whispered, his voice almost tender. “How could I kill the one thing I… love most in this world?”

His fingers gently sifted through her hair, brushing away leaves caught in the strands.

“Because I look like her, right?” Her bitterness was laid bare, her eyes sharp as she glared through her tears.

“You look nothing like her,” he chuckled softly, his tone light. “Maybe at a glance, you resemble her, but anyone who cares to look closely would see the difference. No, Vu,” he said, his voice dipping into something more genuine, “it is you whom I want to give my heart to. It is you I want to love.”

“Your… love?” She finally turned to face him, her eyes wide with disbelief. His fingers brushed her tear-stained cheeks, and her breath hitched at the tenderness in his touch.

“Isn’t that what you want?” he asked softly, his gaze piercing as he looked into her eyes. “To be loved?”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted…” she whispered, fresh tears filling her eyes.

“I can give you that,” he purred, his voice like silk as he stroked her face again, gently wiping away her tears. “I can give you your heart’s desire.”

“You… you would do that for me?” Her voice was small, fragile, filled with desperate hope.

“I would do anything for you,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms. She didn’t resist—she couldn’t. His embrace was warm, his voice soothing as he whispered in her ear. Slowly, the world stopped spinning. The darkness receded, and everything became clear once again.

---

 Kaya’s eyes shot open from her place by Torii’s side. She looked around, trying to find out what disturbed her peaceful rest, but found nothing out of the ordinary. It happened again. Something inside her changed, moved.  Her eyes widened in realization. She shook Torii by her side, shouting for him to wake up. 

“Hm, what is it, my love?”

 “We have to get back to your camp; something’s wrong with my reincarnation.” He hurried and dressed, not even bothering to ask how she knew.

 “That shard detector better not get herself in trouble again,” he grumbled, grabbing Kaya’s hand as they set off. Reaching the camp, the two looked around and saw Shino and Masakage sleeping, but no Vu. Even the black pack she had now carried was gone.

 “THAT BITCH,” he roared, awakening the slumbering couple. The couple jumped awake, grabbing their weapons as they looked around. They narrowed their eyes at Kaya. Torii stepped in front of her protectively. 

“What is she doing here?” Shino hissed.

 “Where is Vu?” Torii hissed.

 “Over the-” Masakage started and stopped seeing the spot Vu was last in bare.

 “She’s probably bathing again,” Shino brushed off the question. “Now answer me?”

 “Kaya’s joining the group, deal with it,” he snorted.

 “She had better not try anything, Torii or I’ll put her back in the grave,” Shino hissed and settled back beside Masakage.

 Push 

noun: push

An act of exerting force on someone or something in order to move them away from oneself.

Vu trailed behind the group, her eyes distant, watching but not truly seeing.
Watch them, the voice whispered, its presence a dark echo in her mind. You’ll see that I speak the truth. They care nothing for your pain.
She glanced ahead at Shino and Masakage, laughing as if the world was perfect, as if nothing had been taken from her. And Torii—he barely noticed her, his attention on the smug Kaya, walking beside him. The strange, gnawing feeling deep in her soul stirred again, the voice growing louder. Yet, she kept moving, feet dragging her forward, a puppet to forces she barely understood.

None of them loves you, the voice pressed on, not the way I can. Not the way you need to be loved.

Her hands trembled. The world began to tilt, voices became distant, and the edges of her vision were painted in shadow. But his voice cut through it all, burning like a flame in her heart. I love you.

Everything stilled.

“Are you okay?” Shino’s voice broke through, but it was a distant echo.

“Fine,” she lied quickly, her voice sharp, masking the storm within. She watched Shino drift back to Masakage, the two laughing once more, oblivious to her pain.

Sol drifted closer to her, his presence commanding even in silence.

“Of course, Nagafusa won’t attack with Masakage here,” Shino was saying. “Not with Kaya protecting us—”

Vu tuned it out.
Kaya is nothing, the voice hissed, its venom coiling through her mind. She can’t sense a shard unless it’s right in front of her. And she didn’t even master her bow until much later in life. How can she love Torii when she’s so easily deceived? But you… His voice softened like a lover’s caress. You see through them all, my love.

“Where did you go last night, Miko?” Sol’s cold voice broke through her haze, forcing her back into the moment.

He uses you, the voice seethed, dark and relentless. He thinks you’re nothing. Hate him. Hate them all.

Vu shook her head, her heart burning with confusion. “For a bath,” she muttered, trying to suppress the tremor in her voice. “How many times do I have to say it?”

Sol said nothing, but he distanced himself further, his silence as cold as his gaze.

Night fell swiftly, the moon once again blood-red, casting its eerie light over the camp. Torii left first, claiming he’d hunt for dinner. As usual, Shino and Masakage disappeared together, leaving Vu alone by the fire, staring into its flickering flames. She could feel Kaya’s eyes on her, but she didn’t care. Kaya’s presence meant nothing anymore.

Vu’s mind darkened.
They don’t care about you. They never did. They took your heart, your son, and now your soul. You want them to suffer, don’t you?

The firelight reflected in her eyes as her thoughts spiraled. A cold breeze swept through the camp, and the shards around her neck glowed—dark, ominous.

Kill them. The voice was on the wind, whispering, tempting. You know you want to.

“No.” The word was a weak protest, her body trembling as she fought against the rising tide of darkness.

Yes, the voice cooed, relentless. You hate them. They deserve to die.

“No,” she whispered again, her voice shaking as the battle raged within her.

You can lie to me, but don’t lie to yourself.
Vu’s reflection stared back at her in the fire’s glow—no, it wasn’t her. This figure was twisted, pale, with hair as white as snow and eyes glowing red with malevolence.

You hate them, it snarled, a mocking smile curling on its lips.

Her hair flashed white, her eyes burning red, as the dark power within surged forward. The shards around her neck pulsed with black energy.
Just a bit more, the voice laughed, taunting her, before everything returned to normal, leaving her breathless, shaken.

Vu staggered to her bedding just as Sol returned, carrying a sleeping Xebrah in his arms.
He says he cares nothing for ningens, the voice whispered again, but he lets that little girl follow him around.

She watched him, his usual cold gaze softening as he looked down at Xebrah. It was an expression Vu had never seen from him before. She turned away quickly, unable to bear the sight.

They are unworthy of your love, the voice whispered, insistent, gnawing at her mind. Look how he broke your heart. And yet you still treat him as a friend. But to me, you are everything.

Vu sprang up, grabbed her bag, fleeing the camp without a second thought. She didn’t notice the way Sol’s eyes followed her, nor the tension that coiled through him at the sudden shift in her scent.

She ran. Through the trees, through the darkness, she ran as if something monstrous was chasing her, as if her life depended on it. Branches tore at her skin, leaving bloodied scratches on her arms and face, but she didn’t care.

Kill them, the voice chanted, its sinister promise growing louder with every step she took. You can end your pain by killing them.

---

Force

Verb: force

: to compel by physical, moral, or intellectual means

Vu collapsed against a fallen log, her body wracked with sobs, exhausted, and bleeding. She didn’t care if a yokai or a ningen emerged from the shadows to kill her right then. In that moment, she would welcome it. Anything to end the aching loneliness that gnawed at her heart. She was so tired. Tired of the endless giving, tired of caring for others, tired of receiving nothing in return.

Why was it so hard for anyone—anyone—to look at her and see her? To see Vu, not what they wanted from her. Not what she could do for them.

She wanted them dead. She wanted to see their blood, to make them feel the agony of betrayal, the way they had made her feel.
She wanted to kill them all.

The dark voice laughed. The wind chilled, wrapping its icy tendrils around her body like a promise.
Let me help you, it whispered seductively, its breath brushing against her skin. Let me out.

Her lips parted to answer, to finally give in, but then—another voice, cutting through the night like a sharp blade.

“No. No, this will not do at all,” it purred. “What is the matter, my dear? Who has made you cry in such a way?”

Through her tears, she could barely see him, but the voice was warm, soothing, and… familiar.

“Why,” she sobbed, broken. “Why don’t they care?”

The figure stepped closer, his arms open, his presence calm and welcoming.

“They are selfish,” he said softly, his voice a balm to her pain. He wiped away her tears with a tenderness that made her ache. “They think only of themselves.”

Vu closed her eyes, her grief consuming her, the weight of her sadness pulling her deeper. His words, soft and slow, slid into her like silk.

“But we,” he continued, his voice smooth as honey, “we want you with us, don’t we, Ota? Hidekatsu?”

“Yes,” came the quiet, eager reply from the shadows. A small wind yokai, Ota, stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with devotion.

“We would do anything for your love, Vu,” the figure whispered, his gaze never leaving her.

Vu’s breath caught in her throat, her voice trembling. “Would you… Would you kill them?” Her eyes flickered open, gleaming garnets, filled with the dark promise of destruction.

The man smiled, and it was like the creeping dawn of something terrible. “Kill who, my dear? Name them, and it shall be done.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, twisted with the madness of her pain. “Torii and Masakage—leave the slayer to rot in their absence. Sol and his wolf—let them suffer the loss of their precious ningen. The village of Sehila—I want it to burn.” She smiled darkly. “And Ujihisa and his wolves? Every last one of them. I want them all dead.”

Her laughter rang out, low and cruel, like the echo of a nightmare. “Fuck it,” she growled, eyes blazing with malice, “the whole world. I want it to burn. Leave none of them alive.”

Her laugh was dark, haunting, twisted with a joy she hadn’t known she could feel. And he—he drank it in, loving every moment of her descent. The chilling breeze coiled around her like a lover’s arms, and the shards around her neck turned jet black, their light devoured by the growing darkness within her.

“It will be done, my love,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “But you must come with us.”

“Okay,” she breathed, her decision made. The darkness had claimed her.

As she stood, Ota took one of her hands, his grip gentle, and from the shadows, a small boy emerged, taking her other hand. His eyes gleamed with a malevolent innocence.

“We’re going to be great friends, lady,” the boy said, his voice soft but filled with glee. “I wanna see the world burn too.”

The four of them—Vu, the boy, Ota, and the man—walked into the forest, disappearing into the shadowed embrace of the trees. And when they were gone, they left no trace behind

Kaya raced back to camp.

 “Where is she? Where is my reincarnation?” she yelled. To which Sol growled because she woke his ward.

 “What is it, Kaya? The wench is off bathing again,” Torii spoke. Masakage and Shino rushed into camp with weapons ready.

 “What is it? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, Kaya’s looking for the wench. But she’s off bathing again.”

 “Oh,” the two settled down next to the fire.

 “No Torii, something is wrong. I don’t feel her anymore. She’s gone,” Torii jumped to his feet and rushed away from camp. Kaya is right behind him. “Woman, if that wench is bathing and sits me, I am going to break her neck,” they came to a stop next to the hot spring, finding no Vu.

 “BITCH” Torii screamed out, but neither noticed that Sol turned away from the forest clearing, his sharp senses scanning the area as he followed the faint traces of Vu’s scent. It led him to a log deep in the woods, but then… nothing. As if she had vanished into thin air. Her trail, usually so distinct, stopped abruptly here. He crouched, inspecting the spot more carefully. No footprints. No sign of struggle. No disturbances in the underbrush. It was as though she had never been there at all—except for the heavy scent of her blood still hanging in the air, thick and metallic. The salty sting of her tears lingered too.

She had been hurt. Badly.

The broken branches, the torn foliage, all led him to this point. By the time she reached here, she had already been bleeding heavily. His gut twisted. This wasn’t the first time he’d lost her trail.

Last night had been the same. He’d followed her scent to the hot springs, intending to watch over her like always, to make sure his Miko was safe. But when he arrived, her bag had been sitting by the edge of the spring—and nothing else. No footprints, no fading scent. She’d simply disappeared without a trace, only to return hours later smelling of fresh water, as if she had bathed, though he had never seen or sensed her return.

Now, once again, she had vanished.

Something was very wrong here.

As far as Sol knew, Vu couldn’t hide her scent, couldn’t suppress her aura like some of the older yokai could. So how was she doing this? Or worse—where was she going? His instincts screamed at him that something was amiss, something far more dangerous than what they had faced before. But even after combing the area, he found no answers.

Reluctantly, he returned to Xebrah. His Miko would come back, as she always did. She had to. Vu wasn’t like the rest of her race. She wasn’t fickle, wasn’t prone to abandoning her duty or her group. No matter how strange things had become lately, Sol told himself she would return. She always did.

---

Three months passed, and Vu never returned.

The group had scoured every forest, every mountain, every lead they could find. Not a single clue. Every rumor they had about the shards led them to nothing but dead creatures—slain in brutal ways that left the yokai on edge. Not a single shard had been recovered since Vu’s disappearance, and the tension in the group had grown palpable.

Something had shifted since she left, an unspoken dread hanging over them. Without Vu, everything felt wrong. Twisted. As if they were caught in a spiral of bad luck and misfortune, always one step behind, always searching but never finding.

Sol didn’t say it aloud, but deep in his heart, he feared that whatever had taken Vu from them was not going to give her back.

 For there to be a beginning, there always has to be an end.

Weeks had passed since the group had last seen Vu.

They now found themselves in Averi’s village, still no closer to finding their missing Miko. A yokai messenger stood rigidly outside Averi’s hut, his back straight, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The afternoon sun gleamed off his armor. His black hair was tied high in a ponytail, and sharp green eyes tracked the group as they emerged from the old one’s home.

He recognized them immediately.

Something about them felt wrong. The presence of the undead creature standing among them was unsettling. The news of the Fabled Relic Miko’s disappearance had spread like wildfire, and from what he could see, her group had simply replaced her with something… abhorrent.

“What the hell do you want?” Torii snarled, stepping in front of Kaya as if to shield her. He didn’t like the way the yokai was looking at her.

“You are Lord Torii?” the yokai asked. There was a hint of doubt in his voice, as if he hoped he was mistaken.

“I ain’t no lord. Now tell me what the fuck you want,” Torii snapped.

Sensing the tension, Masakage stepped forward, noting how the messenger’s fingers twitched near the sword hilt.

“Please, forgive Torii,” Masakage said smoothly. “He’s not used to formalities. What business brings you here?”

The yokai’s gaze shifted to him. “I was ordered by my lord to deliver a message to the group searching for the Relic of Four Souls.”

“And who is your lord?” Masakage asked.

“The Lord of the Western Lands, Lord Sol, of course.”

“Of course—” Masakage began, but Torii cut him off with a growl.

“What does that bastard want? Whatever it is, we don’t want to hear it,” Torii spat.

“Torii,” Masakage snapped, patience thinning. He turned back to the messenger. “Please. What is the message?”

“My lord instructed me to inform you that Nagafusa is dead.”

Silence dropped over the group like a stone.

“Dead?” Masakage repeated, stunned. “Are you sure?”

“How?” Shino demanded, curiosity flaring.

“The details are unclear,” the yokai replied. “My lord only said the filth’s hiding place was discovered. All that remained was a baboon’s skin covering a pile of ashes. If you have further questions, you must see my lord. That is all I was told.”

He turned to leave.

“Wait!” Masakage called. “Did your lord say anything about the Relic?”

“No, monk. Only that the entire area radiated with holy energy,” the yokai answered. Then he was gone, vanishing as swiftly as he’d appeared.

“Holy energy…” Masakage murmured, rubbing his chin. His eyes met Shino’s, and something unspoken passed between them.

Torii barked out a laugh. “You kidding? There’s no way Vu has that kind of power to kill Nagafusa.”

“But she almost purified him—or did you forget that?” Shino shot back, irritation sharpening her tone.

“She just got lucky,” Kaya sneered. “My reincarnation is nowhere near my level of power. It had to be another Miko.”

Shino’s glare could have cut steel. Her and Kaya’s eyes locked, neither backing down.

“Kaya’s right,” Torii started, then hesitated. “Still, we need to find the Relic. We can’t let it fall into the wrong hands. And I’ve got a wish to make.”

The tension between them was thick enough to choke on. Masakage and Shino exchanged uneasy glances.

Torii’s obsession with Kaya was starting to worry them. His moods had grown erratic, his focus more on Kaya than the mission. He constantly compared her to Vu, but Kaya had yet to truly prove herself in battle. It made everything more dangerous. Arguments had grown more frequent—and they were starting to look less like disagreements and more like the beginning of fights.

Privately, Masakage and Shino had begun talking about leaving Torii and Kaya. The divide in the group felt like a fault line ready to split.

---

Three days later, they reached the Western border, where none other than Sol awaited them.

His eyes blazed with contained fury as he watched them approach. His gaze lingered on Kaya, disgust crawling up his spine at how quickly they had replaced a living Miko with this… thing. She was a dead mockery of what Vu had been. She could shoot arrows—that much was clear—but she was nothing compared to the power sleeping inside Vu.

Damn it, he wanted Vu back.

His Miko.

He couldn’t deny it anymore—he missed her. He wanted her. Every fiber of his being regretted the words he’d hurled at her that night. She had been his sun and his moon, his entire world.

How had she disappeared without a trace? How could someone like Vu vanish so completely, especially when her name was now spoken in every village, yokai and ningen alike?

“Oi, asshole,” Torii’s shout ripped through his thoughts. “What do you know about Nagafusa?”

Sol’s eyes narrowed. “The message was given. What more do you want, hanyou?”

“Excuse me, Sol-sama,” Masakage stepped in, calm as ever. “Do you know who destroyed Nagafusa?”

“No one knows, monk.”

“What about the Relic?”

“The Relic was not accounted for,” Sol replied curtly.

Torii sneered. “Maybe one of your men has it.”

“No yokai under this Sol’s command could set foot in the area,” he said coldly. “Only this Sol could.”

“Well, maybe you have it,” Torii shot back.

“This Sol has no need for such things,” Sol answered, voice like ice. “Unlike you, hanyou, this Sol is not weak.”

He turned his back on them. “Now leave my lands.”

“Wait,” Shino called after him. “Have you… heard anything about Vu?”

Sol hesitated, back still to them. “The Miko, like the Relic, has disappeared.”

He started walking again, vanishing into the trees.

Torii’s fists clenched. “Bullshit!” he shouted. “That bastard knows something!”

Sol’s soldiers dropped from the trees, landing in a tight formation before him, golden eyes waiting on their lord.

“Watch them,” Sol hissed. “If they cause trouble, kill them.”

He walked on, leaving the group behind.

As the forest swallowed him, his heart hardened around a single thought:

He would find Vu. And when he did, she would never leave his side again. Whoever took her would pay with their lives.

---

The sun streamed through the window, filtering softly through a curtain of branches, casting dappled patterns of light across the room. The air was fragrant with blooming cherry blossoms and the rich, earthy scent of damp soil—remnants of last night’s rain.

In the stillness of morning, the male stirred first.

He was cocooned in a space that felt both otherworldly and intimately familiar.

He groaned, sweeping long raven hair aside as he turned to look at his bed partner.

She was sprawled across the futon, white tresses spilling like silk over her face and shoulders. Her petal-soft lips were parted with each slow breath, her expression serene. In this moment, she looked ethereal, a vision of tranquility amidst the chaos of their world.

But beneath that serenity, he knew, a storm of wickedness slept.

A smile tugged at his lips as his gaze traced the graceful line of her throat, down over her collarbone and between the soft rise of her breasts. His eyes lingered on the jet-black jeweled Relic sunk halfway into her chest, pulsing faintly with a power both alluring and ominous.

The Relic of Souls was powerful.

But she was so much more.

She had given him this new body—three long months spent in the depths of an ancient forest, surrounded by towering trees whispering secrets overhead. Hidden from prying eyes, he had felt the agony of transformation, the tearing of old flesh, the knitting of new.

He flexed his hands now, marveling at the strength running through the muscles of this form. No longer trapped in a fragile half-breed shell, he was free.

The room around them felt alive, humming with energy. Intricate carvings adorned the wooden walls, depicting legends of yokai past. Their carved eyes seemed to watch the couple as if bearing witness. Delicate paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, flickering glow. Outside, the world was waking—the chorus of birds mingled with the distant murmur of a nearby stream.

His body might as well have been carved from the mountain itself. Red markings, the same crimson as his eyes, decorated his ankles, waist, and arms. The ones on his face were darker—almost blood-colored—stark against his skin. A new symbol adorned his forehead:

The Mark of the Snake.

No longer did it brand him as a half-breed stitched together from clashing yokai blood. He was full-blooded now. Poisonous. Dangerous. And full of surprises, his mate had gifted him.

“Are you checking yourself out again, my heart?” came a sleepy, melodic voice beside him, breaking the quiet.

“Go back to sleep, my love,” he replied, inhaling the thick, heady blend of blossoms and earth. “You’re still exhausted. Breakfast is an hour away.”

“M’kay… Does my gift please you, my heart?” she murmured, smiling dreamily, eyes still closed. The sun lit her skin, ringed her in soft gold. She looked like a goddess of ruin.

“Of course,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Warmth met him there. Life. Power.

He slid into his hakama and kosode, the fabric whispering in the still air, then rose and moved toward the door that opened onto the dim corridor beyond.

“Have fun…” she mumbled, sinking deeper into her pillows. “And bring me a heart for lunch. I’m craving something bloody.”

“Anything for you, my love,” he chuckled, sliding the screen closed behind him.

His lady was not ready yet to face the world outside their sanctuary. In giving him what he desired, she had come dangerously close to losing herself. He would not make his move without her at his side.

The lanterns lining the corridor flickered softly, casting long shadows along the dark wood. Each step he took echoed with promise.

The path sloped downward toward the dungeon.

The air grew cooler, heavier, thick with anticipation and the metallic hint of old blood. The stone walls below knew secrets now: screams, bargains, pieces of a plan stitched together in pain.

Soon—very soon—the lands would be awash in that same crimson.

His laughter echoed off the stone as he descended, anticipation swelling within him.

The world had celebrated Nagafusa’s “end.”

They had no idea it had only been a beginning.

Three Months at the Edge of the World

The forest at the edge of the world did not want them.

Its trees grew too close together, their branches clawing the sky. Moss swallowed stone, and the air itself felt old, heavy with the weight of things that should have been forgotten. No village paths reached this far. No shrine bells rang here. Even birdsong sounded wrong—muted, wary.

It was the perfect place to vanish.

It was the place Nagafusa chose.

Ota and Hidekatsu had carried Vu here between them, her steps stumbling, her fingers still trembling from that last, terrible laugh. The shards around her neck had already gone black, but the light in her eyes flickered between red fury and something softer, something almost afraid.

He watched her even then.

He had wanted the world to burn. Still did.

But first, he wanted this.

---

Month One: Unmaking a Curse

They built no real shelter at first—only a rough lean-to of branches wedged between ancient roots. The forest loomed around them like a closed hand. The ground was damp. The nights were cold. It didn’t matter.

The work began immediately.

Nagafusa knelt at the center of a crude circle Vu had carved into the earth with her own hands. She had mixed her blood with water and herbs, painting sigils onto the soil, onto his ruined skin, onto the baboon pelt that still clung stubbornly to parts of him like a second, hateful hide.

“Again,” he said.

“You won’t survive if we rush,” she warned, voice already hoarse. “This isn’t like purifying sludge off a pond or lifting a small curse. You’re—”

“Wrong,” he said, meeting her eyes. “I was nothing. A cursed half-thing with no name, no race, no clan. You are giving me more than that. If it kills me, at least I will die reaching for something.”

She stared at him for a long, steady moment.

Then she nodded.

They began with the chants.

Four hours at a time, sometimes more. Her voice wove through the trees, rising and falling like waves breaking on stone. Holy words, old words, poured from her throat until it felt raw. Her hands hovered over his chest, over the cursed marks that had once tied him to his baboon shell and the twisted fate that came with it.

The Relic embedded in her chest pulsed faintly, its darkness swallowing and reflecting her light, a wrong star beating in time with her heart.

Purification hurt.

Vu had known that since the first time she’d cleansed a minor yokai’s wound and felt the corruption scrape across her own soul. But this was different. Nagafusa’s curse was not some small stain—it was a chain, wrapped around his bones, rooted in his very blood.

When she pulled, it pulled back.

Again and again, the forest filled with the sound of his low, gritted growls as the curse tore loose, inch by inch. The baboon’s pelt hissed and smoked. His old, twisted aura flared and cracked, shedding layers of filth.

Vu’s vision blurred. Sweat soaked her kosode. Sometimes, the ground tilted under her feet, the circle of sigils swimming.

“Stop,” Ota would plead from the edge of the clearing. “Miko, you’ll destroy yourself.”

“Again,” Nagafusa would say.

And she would obey.

On the seventh day of chanting, the baboon skin finally sloughed off in a single, terrible shrug, collapsing onto the ground like an empty shell. Vu’s last purification prayer rang through the trees as the cursed hide went up in flames, her holy power turning it to ash where it lay.

When it was over, she collapsed, fingers digging into the earth.

“Vu.” Nagafusa’s voice, stripped of mockery, reached her from somewhere above. “You’re trembling.”

She managed a weak grin. “You’re… heavy,” she muttered. “It was a big curse.”

He laughed once, short and shocked, as if he hadn’t expected to.

The ash from the burnt pelt spread across the forest floor, soaking in. The circle where the baboon skin had died thrummed with holy residue, so strong that even Ota flinched if he stepped too close.

It was this place—this burned patch of ground—that Sol’s scouts would later find.

This was Nagafusa’s “grave.”

---

Month Two: Carving a New Body

By the second month, the chants had changed.

No longer were they words of unmaking. Vu shifted to the work of rebuilding.

She drew power from the forest around them, hands pressed to old roots, lips moving in quiet prayers. The plants answered her—thick vines, broad leaves, venomous blossoms with colors too bright to be safe. She coaxed their strength free, braided it into Nagafusa’s veins, layer by patient layer.

“Jungle snake,” she joked once, voice cracked but playful. “Handsome and deadly. Very fashionable.”

“Handsome?” he echoed, an amused tilt in his brow. “Is that an official priestess assessment?”

“Don’t get used to compliments,” she muttered, though the faint smile reached her eyes.

When the pain was at its worst, they spoke.

It was the only thing that kept him anchored as his bones reshaped and his aura thickened into something new—something no longer bound by baboon curses and half-blood shame.

He told her of his home, the one he’d had before everything cracked. Of siblings who’d never borne names. Of scraps of affection. Of the first time he’d realized some creatures were born to be whole and some were born wrong.

“No clan, no crest,” he said quietly one evening as she rested her hands over his heart, warmth flowing into him. “Just… taken in. Used. Fed enough to keep me hungry.”

“And this obsession?” Vu asked. “The shards. The Relic. Where did that start?”

He turned his head, watching her. “When I realized power was the only thing that made anyone look at me,” he said. “And when I heard there was something that could change fate itself.”

Her hands stilled for a heartbeat.

“Has it?” she asked, half-bitter, half-curious. “Has power made them look at you?”

“Yes,” he said. “But not like you.”

Her fingers fluttered, just once, over his chest before steadying.

The next day, she guided more of the forest into him.

Red markings burned across his skin like living ink, coiling his arms, his ankles, his waist. His eyes took on a richer, deeper crimson. Scales flickered down his spine when he shifted, black-green and gleaming. The scent of him changed too—sharper, like crushed leaves and venom in the dark.

“Handsome and deadly,” she said again, voice distant with exhaustion. “We were right.”

“We?” he asked, amused.

She wobbled where she knelt. “I did all the work. I get to take partial credit.”

He caught her when she swayed, his new strength a promise in the way his arms closed around her.

“Rest,” he said softly. “I will not break if you stop for one afternoon.”

She looked up at him.

“You want to burn the world,” she said.

“Yes.”

“And yet you’re worried about one Miko taking a nap?”

He smiled, slow and strange, as if the expression was still new on his face. “My motives are… evolving.”

---

Month Three: A Vow in the Dark

By the third month, the worst of the physical change was done.

Nagafusa’s body had settled. The curse was gone, replaced by something deliberate and specific. He was no longer a cursed hanyou of no race. He was a full-blooded snake yokai now—a jungle serpent carved from old bark and stone, handsome and deadly, just as they had joked.

But the work on Vu was far from done.

The Relic embedded in her chest had grown heavier, darker. The more she poured herself into him, the more it pulled at her. Every time she chanted, it drank. Every time she healed him, it took its tithe from her flesh.

Her cheeks hollowed. Dark half-moons bloomed beneath her eyes. Still, whenever she lifted her hands to him, they did not shake.

“Enough,” Nagafusa said one night, fingers wrapped around her wrists to still them. “You will kill yourself.”

“Almost done,” she whispered, lips pale. “Your aura keeps slipping. I have to stabilize—”

“You almost died yesterday.”

She tried to pull free. “I didn’t.”

“You stopped breathing.”

“Only for a little while,” she muttered.

He stared at her, incredulous and furious and something else entirely. “You think I wanted this at the cost of your life?”

“You asked,” she said. Her eyes, when they met his, were dark and stubborn. “You wanted to be a full yokai. To have a body that answered to you and not some cursed pelt. I could give it to you, so I did.”

“Why?” The word came out raw. “Why would you go this far?”

She blinked at him as if the answer were obvious. “Because you said you loved me.”

He froze.

“People lie about that,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she replied. “You didn’t.”

Silence fell between them, thick and humming.

“I saw you,” she said, softer. “Long before you saw me. Behind the obsession. Behind the baboon skin. Behind the curse. But you were… trapped. And I was so tired of watching people be trapped.”

He let go of her wrists only to cup her face, thumbs brushing the bruised shadows under her eyes.

“What if I never deserved it?” he asked.

“Then you’ll have to earn it,” she said. “But I can at least give you the chance.”

He laughed, shaky and helpless.

“By the end of this, my love,” he murmured, “I will earn it so thoroughly the world will choke on your name.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing,” she muttered.

“From my perspective?” He smiled, all teeth. “It is perfect.”

Halfway through the third month, Vu collapsed for real.

One moment, she was standing within the circle, chanting, eyes distant and glazed with that trance-like focus. Next, her knees buckled. The Relic in her chest flared black, then dimmed to a dull ember as she hit the ground.

“Vu.”

He caught her before she struck the earth. Her body was limp. Her breathing shallow. The forest, which had once thrummed to her voice, fell deathly still.

For the first time since he’d met her, Nagafusa felt something like fear.

“Ota!” he roared. “Hidekatsu!”

They appeared almost instantly, having learned to stay within earshot when the work grew dangerous.

“She gave everything she had,” Ota whispered, hovering anxiously at her side, the wind around him picking up with his panic. “Too much. Way too much.”

“Is she—” Hidekatsu began.

“She is not dead,” Nagafusa snarled, more a command than a declaration. “She refuses to die. She is too stubborn.”

But Vu did not wake.

His transformation was complete. He could feel it. His blood was solid, his aura settled the way a river settles into a new bed. He could move, and nothing hurt that wasn’t supposed to.

She had given him exactly what he’d wanted.

And nearly paid for it with her life.

Nagafusa rose, cradling Vu in his arms, her head tucked beneath his chin. The circle where the baboon skin had burned still glowed faintly, the holy energy lingering like a scar on the land.

He left it.

Left the ashes. Left the charred earth, the remnants of the curse, the holy radiance Vu had burned into this place.

Let them find it, he thought. Let them believe Nagafusa had ended here, nothing left but ash and a discarded skin.

He took his ending and walked away from it.

Miles from that clearing, hidden in a deeper pocket of the forest, they built another shelter. This one was larger, more deliberate. Ota and Hidekatsu came and went, slipping through the shadows, collecting Relic shards in secret as ordered. Each time they returned, they laid new shards before Vu’s sleeping form, as if bringing offerings to a dark, resting god.

Nagafusa watched.

He watched the rise and fall of her chest. He watched the Relic’s slow, steady pulse. He watched the world from their hidden sanctuary, listening to the distant, trembling rumors of his own “death.”

He would not move without her.

He would not burn the world until she stood at his side to watch it happen.

“Rest, Vu,” he murmured, fingers tracing the line of her jaw. “You almost died to give me what I desired most.”

His red eyes gleamed in the half-light.

“Now I will give you what you desire most,” he promised, voice soft and terrible. “I will give you a world that finally sees you.”

---

Outside, at the very edge of the world, the forest shivered.

And somewhere far away, Sol stood in a blasted clearing, staring at a pile of ash and a discarded baboon skin, holy power humming in the air, and told each other a lie they desperately wanted to believe:

Nagafusa was dead.

Sol had been patrolling his lands when he found them again—dead wolves.

Piles of them along the eastern border. White, brown, gray; young and old. All slaughtered. For the past month, he had been finding them this way, but now whoever was doing it had started skinning the lower wolves as well.

He didn’t know what to make of it. He never found another scent besides the wolves’. No foreign aura, no hint of an intruder. It was beginning to worry him. If someone—or something—was targeting wolves, would the packs in the West be next?

Rumors had already reached him that the East was under attack by some unknown yokai. But disturbingly, it was only the wolves.

He stopped, nostrils flaring.

Something familiar rode the breeze.

Sol was gone in the blink of an eye, red streaking his eyes as he streaked across the land in pursuit of the scent.

---

Earlier that day…

Torii and his companions strolled through the bustling village, their senses flooded with the sights and sounds of daily life. Merchants shouted from their stalls:

“Fresh fish!”
“Sweet pastries!”

The aroma of grilled meat and spiced dumplings mingled with the sugary scent of candied fruits. Children laughed as they chased each other through narrow streets, their giggles bouncing off worn stone.

They were supposed to be gathering supplies and hunting for rumors about jewel shards—anything that might point them toward the Relic or Vu.

Instead, trouble found them first.

They drifted toward the marketplace, a riot of color and noise. Shino and Torii wandered ahead, bickering lightly, while Masakage lingered behind, his attention snagged by a particular figure weaving through the crowd.

His gaze fixed on a woman with a lush backside, swaying temptingly as she moved. The temptation was too strong. With a grin that had gotten him in trouble more times than he could count, he reached out and gave her a playful squeeze, already braced for the slap that usually followed.

Instead, the woman reared up, eyes wide with shock.

“He… he touched me!” she cried, voice cracking. “In a place only you should… he… he—”

Before Masakage could spit out an apology, she bolted, fleeing behind a towering yokai whose presence seemed to swallow the space around him. Massive, scarred, and bristling with barely leashed power, the yokai turned to face Masakage, lips peeling back to reveal sharp fangs.

“What have you done?” the yokai growled, voice rumbling like distant thunder.

“I’m cursed, you see!” Masakage stammered, raising both hands in a placating gesture. “I tried to apologize to your lady, it wasn’t—”

“You’ll die for this, monk!” the yokai roared, fury vibrating in every word.

Torii, sensing trouble without needing the details, rushed over, drawing his blade with a practiced flourish—only to remember too late it hadn’t transformed in months. It looked more ceremonial than threatening.

“You’re not killing anyone today, asshole!” he barked, planting himself between Masakage and the furious yokai.

“What did you do this time, Masakage?” Shino snapped as she arrived, fingers already twitching, ready to release magic if needed. Around them, humans and yokai began to back away, clearing space for what looked like an inevitable fight.

“Ah, well, you see, my dearest Shino…” Masakage started.

He didn’t get the chance to finish.

Shino, patience gone, whirled and knocked him out cold with a precise strike.

“He’s really very sorry, sir,” Shino said quickly, turning back to the yokai with a forced smile. “Sometimes the monk takes leave of his senses. He meant nothing by it—he is truly an idiot.”

The tension tightened, then held. The crowd watched, breathless.

Then a tiny human woman stepped from behind the imposing yokai, her small hand resting gently on his arm.

“Maybe he’s right, my heart,” she said softly, looking up at her protector. “The monk could be sick with devils of the mind. He’d have to be, to do such a thing.”

The yokai’s glare softened as he looked at her, though his eyes still narrowed murderously at Masakage’s unconscious form.

“If he tries such a thing again, I will kill him,” he warned, voice low and lethal.

“Come, dearest,” he said, helping her onto the back of a yokai horse. His demeanor shifted as he guided her away, all coiled protection and possessiveness.

Torii and Shino regrouped and dragged Masakage’s limp body out of the market.

“Did you find out anything?” Kaya asked when they reached her outside the village. Her brow furrowed, gaze scanning each of them in turn.

“Not even a fucking rumor,” Shino replied tersely, pointedly refusing to look at Masakage. The three of them started back toward camp, Shino ignoring every one of the monk’s groggy attempts at apology when he finally woke.

But as they left the village behind, Masakage couldn’t shake it.

The woman’s laughter. The way her eyes had flicked to his, just for a heartbeat, full of something playful and sharp. It tugged at his memory like a dream he couldn’t quite recall.

He knew that voice. He knew that feel.

He just couldn’t place it.

---

Kaya stood alone at the forest’s edge, eyes half-closed as she attuned herself to the flow of spiritual energy around their camp. Shino and Torii had gone deeper into the trees; Masakage was somewhere gathering firewood, trying to prove he could be useful when he wasn’t causing chaos.

“She said you would come,” a voice echoed, light and mocking, from the left.

Kaya’s eyes snapped open. She turned toward the sound, reaching for her bow.

A sound to the right—too fast.

Pain exploded through her arm. Bone shattered, hand breaking apart under an invisible force.

“I didn’t know you were so breakable,” the same voice cooed, a cruel chuckle following it.

Two small yokai shapes flickered at the edge of her vision, darting into the shadows before she could fully see them. Ota. Hidekatsu. She recognized the way the air shifted around them.

Clutching her ruined arm, Kaya gritted her teeth and ran, racing back toward camp.

---

Masakage sighed for what felt like the hundredth time, the bundle of firewood awkwardly balanced in his arms. The silence around him was too loud. Shino was still furious. He could feel it—the distance, the clipped words, the careful avoidance.

Deserved, he thought grimly. Even he had to admit that.

“So, you like touching what’s not yours, monk?” a voice hissed from the darkness.

He jumped, dropping the firewood with a thud. His pulse spiked. Every weapon he owned was back at camp.

“Who’s there?” he demanded, but the usual bravado wasn’t quite there.

The yokai from the marketplace emerged from the trees, eyes burning with malice.

“Did you really think I’d let you get away with it?” the yokai growled, stepping closer.

Masakage backed up, searching for an apology that might work, but before he could speak, something struck the back of his head—hard.

The world went dark.

---

When Masakage awoke, his skull throbbed. His arms and chest were pinned, rough bark biting into his spine. He was tied upright against a tree, the ropes unforgiving.

Something tugged at his throat.

He blinked, vision swimming, and tried to focus. A silken thread, glinting silver in the moonlight, looped around his neck like a delicate noose. He followed the line of it with his eyes—

And froze.

It couldn’t be.

“She said you were sick with devils of the mind,” a familiar, cruel laugh cut through the night.

The figure in front of him lifted both hands and pushed back a skull-like mask, revealing a face he’d never expected to see like this.

“I was good, wasn’t I?” she teased, a twisted smile playing at her lips.

“Vu?” he whispered.

His heart lurched into his throat. Memories crashed together—her smile, her quiet patience, her temper. Her absence.

“I’m pleased you remember me, Masakage,” she said, voice dripping with mockery. “Too bad we don’t have enough time to play.”

“Pl–play? What are you talking about? Cut me down from here!” Panic clawed at his ribs. “We can go back to Shino and Torii. Shino’s been so worried about you, Vu.”

She smiled coldly and gave the thread a sharp tug. It bit into his neck, stealing his breath for a heartbeat.

“Oh, Masakage,” she sighed. “I’ve moved beyond their world. You should have, too.”

A shadow dropped lightly from the branches above. The same yokai from the marketplace, now draped in gray wolf fur, wolf skull masking his face. He stood at Vu’s side like a loyal hound.

“He’s coming,” the male said with a smirk.

“Both of them,” he added.

“Good,” Vu murmured, her gaze never leaving Masakage’s face. “Now the murder of my son will not go unpunished.”

“Murd—” he choked, eyes widening. “Vu, I didn’t—”

“You killed my son, you bastard,” she hissed, every word a blade. “NOW DIE.”

Her hand jerked back with vicious force.

The silken cord sliced clean through his neck.

His world narrowed to a flash of white-hot pain—and then nothing.

His head struck the tree once, bounced, and rolled to a stop at his own feet.

---

Now.

Sol stepped into the clearing, and the scent that had drawn him here hit full force.

Blood. Wolves. And under it all—her.

A woman moved around the monk’s body, humming a lilting tune under her breath. White wolf fur draped her shoulders, and a wolf skull crowned her head. She was laying flowers around the corpse as if arranging an offering.

Long white hair spilled down her back, catching the breeze.

He knew that scent.

She turned, and for one impossible heartbeat, she smiled at him as she wiped blood from her face with the back of her hand.

Vu.

Before he could speak, a male yokai dropped down in front of her, landing lightly between them. Gray wolf fur cloaked his form, a wolf skull mask hiding his features. His claws slid free as he growled, body angled protectively toward her.

“You will release the Miko from whatever spell you have cast on her,” Sol growled, hand already on his sword. If this bastard had ensnared her, Sol would cut him down and shatter the binding.

The male only threw his head back and laughed.

“Did you hear him, dearest?” he asked lazily. “A spell.”

He turned his masked face toward Sol.

“No, Western Lord,” he said, voice rich with dark amusement. “I have given her what you were too afraid to give.”

In the space between one heartbeat and the next, the two of them vanished into the darkness at the edge of the trees.

A breath later, Shino and Torii burst into the clearing from the opposite side.

Shino saw the body first.

“Masakage!” she screamed, bolting forward. She dropped to her knees beside him, sobs tearing out of her as she took in his severed head, the empty cavity in his chest where his heart had been.

Torii’s gaze snapped from Shino to Sol.

His rusty blade clattered to the ground as he lunged, hands curling into claws.

“I fucking told them,” he snarled, leaping straight at Sol. “I fucking knew it. I knew you’d turn on us, you bastard!”

Sol sidestepped his attack with practiced ease.

“If you would use your poorly developed senses,” he said coldly as Torii spun for another strike, “you would know this Sol had no hand in this.”

He backhanded Torii across the clearing as the hanyou lunged again, sending him skidding across the dirt.

Sol’s eyes returned to the body.

The monk’s head was gone from his shoulders, his heart torn clean from his chest. Flowers ringed the corpse like a mockery of a burial rite.

He knew what he’d seen. He knew what he’d smelled.

That had been the Miko—his Miko—staring at him from beneath that wolf skull. Her scent had woven through the clearing, sweet and sharp and terribly familiar, enticing him, pulling him closer.

He left as quickly as he had come, his mind awhirl with questions.

Whoever had taken Vu had not just stolen her.

They had turned her into something that now walked the border between holiness and slaughter—and every instinct in Sol’s body told him that if he didn’t find her soon, there would be far more than one dead monk and a field of wolves to mourn.

---

Under Vu’s command, Hidekatsu set the bait.

He did not rush. He never rushed.

The rat yokai died quietly, crushed beneath Hidekatsu’s heel, its shrine pried from trembling hands still warm with prayer. The wood was old, greasy with offerings, etched with teeth marks and desperation. When Hidekatsu opened it, he did not flinch.

The world answered.

They poured out in a black tide. Yokai rats by the hundreds, then the thousands, a living carpet of hunger that stripped the ground bare as it moved. Stone vanished. Bone vanished. Sound itself seemed to recoil as the swarm surged forward, devouring anything foolish enough to exist in its path.

Kaya took the bait too late.

She abandoned her chase of Ota and turned, power flaring as she finally chose to act. That was when the first arrow struck her from behind. It did not kill her. It was never meant to. The force spun her sideways, straight into the edge of the advancing swarm.

She rolled left.

Arrows fell like rain, pinning her path, forcing her back.

She rolled again, right this time, teeth bared, claws scraping earth—

More arrows. Precise. Relentless. Every escape closed before it could open.

There was only one direction left.

The rats hit her like a wave.

High above, Nagafusa stood beside Vu, the wind tugging at her hair as if even it wished to watch. Neither spoke. They did not need to.

Kaya’s screams rose once, sharp and defiant.

Then the swarm swallowed her voice.

Flesh disappeared. Bone followed. Her soul tore free in fragments, one of them snapping back into Vu like a missing breath finally reclaimed. Vu exhaled slowly, the satisfaction subtle but complete.

The rats surged, and the world narrowed.

From above, Vu did not look away.

She felt it before Kaya’s scream broke.

A pressure, low and familiar, stirred beneath her ribs. Not pain. Not memory. Recognition. Something long displaced, shifting in the dark, like a bone remembering its proper place. Vu’s breath caught, shallow and sharp, as the fragment tore free.

It came to her screaming.

Not in sound, but sensation. Rage without direction. Terror stripped of language. The raw, intimate knowledge of being ended. It slammed into her chest, scorching, then slid inward, threading itself through old scars in her soul as if it had always known the way home.

Vu staggered one step forward.

Nagafusa’s hand hovered near her back, not touching, not steadying. He felt it too, the sudden change in the air, the way the ley bent toward her like a kneeling thing.

Below, Kaya’s body was already failing.

But above, Vu closed her eyes.

The fragment did not plead. It did not apologize. It remembered. Betrayals whispered in pulses. Old loyalties curdled into ash. Vu tasted blood that was not on her tongue, felt claws that were not her own, tearing, tearing, tearing at the ground as the rats consumed what remained.

Then the fragment settled.

It fit.

The ache she had carried for centuries eased, just slightly. A hollow she had forgotten how to name filled in, warm and heavy, like a crown lowered back onto her brow. Vu exhaled, slow and controlled, her lips parting as a tremor ran through her spine.

Below, Kaya screamed once more.

The sound barely reached them.

Nagafusa watched Vu’s face, the way her expression softened into something dangerously serene. He smiled, sharp and private.

“It’s done,” he murmured.

Vu opened her eyes.

They were brighter now. Whole in a way they had not been moments before.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “It is.”

The rats finished their work. The last of Kaya vanished beneath fur and teeth and hunger, her existence reduced to motion and noise and then nothing at all. The fragment no longer resisted. It slept within Vu, obedient, reclaimed.

Vu turned away without another glance.

Nagafusa followed her into the wind.

They left the yokai rats to devour the last village in their path, a consequence already written, already paid for.

Vu’s hand rested briefly against her chest as they walked, feeling the steady weight of what was once lost.

Life was good.

               Shino and Torii reached Caede’s village and found the unthinkable: the village was gone. The homes and fields had all been burned. Worst yet, bodies littered the ground; it would seem none survived the attack.

 “Who would do such a thing?”  Shino questioned in shock. She couldn’t bring herself to be more upset than she already was. She had been numb since losing Masakage. To her, this was some sort of nightmare; she willed herself to wake. On the other hand, she only remained calm by repeating in her head that she would find the creatures that killed the man she loved. She would find them, and their deaths would be slow and painful.

 “Do you think it was the same creatures that kil-killed Masakage?”

 “No fucking way. No one is that fucking quick. Maybe bandits,” Torii snarled, picking up an arrow. “Those bastards are always attacking villages.”

            Nagafusa had been out scouting when he felt the need to return home. He found his home, their home, under attack, not from any outside force; this was within. He felt her rage before he even saw her. Six of his best warriors lay in ashes, six more had been beheaded. He walked around the blood and through the meeting hall. Following her raised voice. 

             She raged, throwing objects and curses. Even Ota and Hidetsuki seem to be afraid of the raging female. Nagafusa ducked just in time as a vase flew over his head and smashed against a wall. 

“What is the matter, dearest?” She paused in her fit, her garnet gems staring at him as if she didn’t know him. For a moment, death stared back at him; he was thrilled. She blinked.

 “They didn’t like my gift, Nagafusa,” she pouted. He laughed. “How can you laugh?” she growled. “So much work into burning that village and killing everyone in it.” 

“I told you it was too soon after killing that monk.” 

“You don’t care, do you?”

 “Don’t say that, dearest. You know I love you. But we have the Hanyou to think about. Tonight is his human night, remember.”

 “You always know what to say to make me feel better,” she smiled, kissed him, and swept from the room. Nagafusa glared at the cowering maids.

 “Clean up this mess,” he growled and stalked after his mate, laughing. ‘Who would have thought such a weak emotion would get him the most powerful Miko to date?‘ He got rid of his own heart trying to get rid of his love for Kaya, even though he didn’t count on that same love developing for Vu. After reabsorbing Menus and assimilating, his heart returned to him. A plan he thought would make him a full-blooded yokai, but of course, it didn’t work.

         But he found himself different, attracted to the living Miko instead of Kaya, a change he welcomed. Of course, he had to be blind not to see the beauty the young female held, so much more beautiful than her previous incarnation. He stopped his frequent attacks to watch Vu, to learn about her, to plan a way to win her heart. He couldn’t help himself. He planned on kidnapping her and using the growing gap between her and Torii to his advantage. But the foolish Inu-brothers all but handed her over. And to think only she had the power to unite the brothers. Hell, to unite every human and yokai against him. But now she was his.

         He loved the sound of it HIS. And he wasn’t going to let her go EVER. 

         His possessive growl echoed through the halls of their home. 

---

              They stalked through the shadows, watching the now-human Torii throw dirt on the last grave. They watched as he walked away from  Shino and into the trees.

 “He never stays in the open when he’s human, my heart. He will seek shelter,” she whispered. They both knew only one hut remained after the fire. 

They watched  Shino for a moment as she raged next to Masakage’s grave about killing whoever was responsible for his death. “She reminds me of Sara raging over Desmond’s death,” she whispered again with a smirk. They stalked along the tree line, keeping in the shadows, watching the human Torii.

 He walked through the burned village, head hanging low, mourning, and both wanted so badly to laugh. Nagafusa was pleased that his mate was getting what they both wanted for so long, the death of Torii. But now wasn’t the time.

 “Torii,” was whispered on the breeze, causing him to stop and look around.

 “Kaya, is that you?” his eyes lit up. He smiled and jogged toward the hut.

 “Come to me, Torii,” she whispered again, only a little louder. He reached the hut and looked inside. Finding no one, he searched around the hut.

 “Over here, Torii,” standing in the shadow of a burned hut was Kaya. She smiled at him and called him closer.

 “Kaya, what are you doing? I thought you were off searching for Kanna?”

 “Come to me, Torii,” she whispered again. As he grew closer, he began to notice something different; Kaya’s clothes were different, and he stopped, but it was too late. Nagafusa was on him before he could move. He snatched the human Torii up and snapped his neck.

 “That was too easy. I know, let us go wipe out some more wolves. At least they try to run.”

 “(sigh) so true, but first we have to make Torii all pretty for Shino,” she smiled. Nagafusa tossed the body over his shoulder as they strolled back to the hut. Once inside, he leaned Torii against one of the walls of the hut and lit the fire. Vu placed two plump rabbits on sticks and placed them over the fire to cook. And they left the area, leaving not a trace of themselves behind. Nagafusa grabbed her hand as they walked through the trees. 

“Have I told you how wicked you are, my dearest, Vu?”

 “Not lately, Fusa.”

 “Fusa, I like that,” they heard  Shino’s scream as it filled the air, and both laughed with delight. “I love you.”

 “Aww, I love you too, Fusa.” They disappeared into the darkness of the night. ‘

The stench of death was what drew the Western Lord.

For two days, Sol had followed it—rot and burnt wood, clinging to the wind like a curse. From the smell alone, he knew hundreds of ningens had met their end. But beneath it all was one scent that hooked into him and refused to let go.

Vu’s.

He and his companions traveled through the forest named after his Father. When the smell grew thick enough to taste, Sol ordered his followers to stay behind and continued alone.

As he stepped past the tree line, rows of new graves greeted him. Hundreds of them. The ground was torn and blackened, the village beyond burned to the bones. He did not stop. That familiar scent tugged him forward, deeper into the ruin.

He knew the soul that had just passed.

Shino raised her blade high with trembling hands and plunged it into her own stomach, dragging it across and out. Blood poured over her robes as she collapsed in the burned fields, smoke curling around her.

To her dying eyes, he looked like a ghost drifting through the wreckage. The reaper comes at last.

“There’s no… nothing left to take… mon–st–er,” she choked, blood bubbling from her mouth.

“Foolish ningen,” Sol growled, the sound tearing through the dead air as he knelt by his half-brother’s corpse. Torii’s lifeless eyes stared up at nothing.

“What has happened here?” he demanded, without looking away.

Two yokai stepped from the treeline and bowed low.

“My Lord Sol,” one reported, “the village was attacked two moons past. All within lost their lives.”

“Tell this Sol—was it a white-haired female with a wolf skull perched upon her head?”

“Yes, my lord,” the other answered. “And two small yokai pups.”

“Nagafusa’s spawn,” Sol muttered.

He rose slowly. “And the half-breed. This Sol knows no fire killed him.”

“A yokai male and the female you spoke of, my lord,” the first yokai said quietly.

“And you did nothing?”

“My lord instructed us to watch,” the second said. “To neither help nor hinder the village or the group.”

“Bury them,” Sol growled, turning away.

He didn’t understand.

Why would Vu do this? How could she kill Torii, when the two had always gotten along? And the slayer—Shino had once claimed Vu as her blood sister. What could drive her to seppuku in a burning village?

If the woman they had seen truly was Vu, then she had to be under a spell. No matter what the male said.

His Miko would never willingly kill those she cared about.

…Would she?

She had valued friendship and love above all else.

…Hadn’t she?

---

When he returned to camp, Xebrah was missing.

What he did find was the same female he had been thinking of—Vu—tossing what could only be Toki’s severed head from hand to hand as if it were a toy. She gave him a bloody smile as he stepped into the clearing, and his gaze snapped to the fire:

Toki’s headless body lay nearby.

The chest was torn open.

The heart was gone.

Was she eating them?

“What have you done to Xebrah?” Sol snarled.

“Always worried about your little ningen, Lord Sol?” she laughed. “Why would I hurt Xebrah?”

“Where is she?”

“She ran off,” Vu said lightly, still playing with Toki’s head.

“Why have you done this?” he demanded.

“I want your ningen to suffer,” she laughed, and with a careless kick, she sent Toki’s head rolling into the flames.

“Xebrah has done nothing to you. It is this Sol that has wronged you.”

“You got me there,” she said, laughter bubbling up again. “I bet you’re proud of yourself, hm? Big, bad Sol. You killed all that I had left. Shattered it to pieces and broke what was left.”

She tilted her head, eyes glinting.

“But I should be thanking you, shouldn’t I?” she went on. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have purpose. . . . But still—your ningen has to suffer.”

“This is not you, Vu,” Sol said, anger and something like panic twisting inside him. “You will tell this Sol what evil has befallen such a pure soul.”

“Pure soul? Pure soul?” she echoed, and then she laughed, harsh and bright. “Are you sure you’re talking about me? I am stupid, remember? I am nothing. Worthless. A waste of space.”

She smiled, sharp and satisfied.

“But it’s okay. I’ve found purpose. Love. And my life is perfect now. Naga loves me… me and no one else.”

“Naga?” Sol’s brow furrowed. “Who is this Naga, Vu? What has this Naga done to you?”

At that, she snarled, her gaze snapping to him as if he’d overstepped.

“You peasant are not allowed to call my Lord that name,” she hissed. “You may refer to my Lord as Emperor Nagafusa.”

From the shadows, as if called, a male figure walked into the light.

Sol’s hand flew to his sword.

Wolf fur draped his shoulders, a skull mask over his face. When Sol’s eyes narrowed, the male lifted the skull and smiled.

Nagafusa.

“What have you caught in your web now, my little mate?” he purred.

Sol took a step forward—

His vision blurred. His limbs went heavy. His eyes rolled back, and he toppled face-first into the dirt with a heavy thump.

“It would seem the surprise was too much for him to take,” Nagafusa chuckled.

“I told you all I had to do was keep him busy and the spell would take effect,” Vu replied with a wicked grin.

“You are very naughty, my heart,” Nagafusa said fondly. “Now, what do we do?”

“Now we chain him,” she said. “And the plan to make you [b]Emperor[/b] of the world can start.”

Neither of them noticed the small figure hidden in the bushes.

Grown now into a woman but still bearing the stubborn fire of the child she had been, Xebrah watched, silent and shaking, as they bound her lord in dark Miko chains and dragged him away.

---

For the next ten years, the Lords and Ladies of the lands fell one by one.

None was a match for Nagafusa’s army. He spread across the world like a plague, killing all who stood in his way. Cities burned, rivers ran red, shrines toppled.

And always, at his side, walked the white-haired Empress with the wolf skull crown and the black Relic burning in her chest.

But none fought harder than Xebrah.

Time and again, she tried to free her lord. Time and again, she failed. Vu was always one step ahead—anticipating each attempt, twisting each plan, laying trap upon trap.

In the end, Xebrah died with one regret: she had never managed to break Sol’s chains.

Vu found the hidden village that sheltered the now-grown woman and killed everyone in it, burning the place to the ground. Nagafusa, amused, took special pride in telling Sol over and over how the woman had held out so long, how many souls she’d rallied to her hopeless cause—and how thoroughly they’d been wiped out.

“Why have you done this?” Sol rasped once, bound and burned, as Nagafusa recounted the story.

“I wanted what you had,” Nagafusa smirked.

Sol frowned. “This Sol does not—”

“The heart of the Relic Jewel, of course,” Nagafusa said, eyes gleaming. “Her love is a powerful thing. Able to make the impossible possible. Able to make the strong stronger. Her love even unites creatures that should never stand side by side.”

He leaned closer.

“I wanted all of that for myself.”

“She will see through your lies and come to her senses,” Sol snarled, pulling at the chains.

Nagafusa laughed.

“There is no lie,” he said. “I loved her light. And now I love her darkness even more. She is the perfect Empress for me. Did you know she has very little empathy and even less compassion? She can snuff out life on a massive scale and love every minute of it.”

“You could not have the dead one,” Sol spat, “so now you want the live Miko for your own. Pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” Nagafusa arched a brow. “Pathetic is being offered all that power and turning it away.”

He chuckled at the slight widening of Sol’s eyes.

“But I should thank you,” he went on. “For giving me the one thing I wanted most in the world.”

Nagafusa straightened, stretching as if bored. “Sorry. I got off the subject. Since my mate is happy again, I tend to ramble.”

His smile sharpened.

“You will be judged in two days.”

Sol’s chains rattled as he strained against them. “Judged?”

Nagafusa’s smile widened. “Rejoice. After ten long years, you, Lord Sol, will be judged for all the world to see. Ten years of being a god to them. A symbol of faith. Proof that Emperor Nagafusa could be defeated. And now?” He laughed. “Now you’re only a fool who gave up the one thing he loved most in the world.”

He turned as if to leave, then glanced back.

“Had you read the ancient legend behind the Relic of Souls, you would have seen the line: the jewel was neither good nor evil. It is the holder who chooses.”

He waved a hand.

“Half the scroll was worn with age, but the next part… that part stumped me too, until I began to love her as well.”

He tilted his head, watching Sol closely.

“You see, Lord Sol, what it all boils down to is her love.”

Sol’s eyes widened as memory slammed into him.

That night. The clearing. Her voice.

“What do you think of me?”

“Nothing.”

If only he had listened to his other half screaming that he could protect both his pup and Vu. If only he had said something—anything—later. If only he had not shattered what little she’d had left.

“Think of what could have been if you had loved her,” Nagafusa purred. “The power she holds is twice that of the kami-sama. Think if you had shared that power. Think of it like trying to catch a butterfly. With one hand, you crush it. With two, it flutters… and sometimes, it stays. Sometimes, it flies away.”

He grinned.

“Love, Sol. The one thing I was trying to get rid of is what guides her soul—to be either good or evil. When I read that, I knew my love for her wasn’t wrong. So I let it grow. I gave in to it. And now she loves me.”

Nagafusa laughed quietly, savoring every word.

“The Relic Jewel loves me. It gave me the most vicious mate in the history of the world, with more power than anyone could imagine. She could wipe out the entire world if I told her it would please me.”

He turned away, satisfied.

“Love, Sol,” he said over his shoulder. “Who would have ever guessed that in a thousand years?”

With his parting words, Nagafusa left.

---

Sol hated this.

Chained to a wall like a common dog.

Every time he tried to break the dark Miko chains, they burned him. The harder he pulled, the worse the burns became. His hands were blistered, raw, and blackened. The stone that had once felt like his ally now felt like his grave.

He had no idea how to get free—or if he even could.

He hated to admit it, but his only hope had been Xebrah.

And now Xebrah was dead.

Even he had to respect the trap Vu had laid to lure the woman into the palace. It had been daring, vicious, almost flawless. Xebrah had escaped with her life once, only to die from her wounds later—or so Nagafusa claimed.

Sol was beginning to believe him.

He wasn’t going to get out alive.

If only…

Sol walked out into the clearing with his head high and his shoulders back.

If Nagafusa thought he would beg for his life, he was wrong. Sol would go to his grave as proud as the day he became Lord of the West.

He cast his eyes toward the western horizon, away from the gathered crowd. Chains rattled as ten warriors dragged at them, forcing him forward.

He stumbled when his gaze landed on his son.

His heir sat on the lap of a pupped Vu—her white hair falling around the wolf skull on her head, her hand resting on the child’s shoulder. Kaname had grown so much since the last time Sol had seen him. The same pup he had wanted Vu to raise with him in the West.

If not for the warriors holding him back, he would have torn free and run to him.

He didn’t know how long he stared until Vu stepped directly into his line of sight. Her voice was light as she moved closer.

“Look what I found hiding in the palace of the West,” she cooed. “He is beautiful, don’t you think? Best part—he’ll grow up thinking Nagafusa is his father.”

She threw her head back and laughed.

“You will not hurt my son,” Sol snarled, pulling at the chains until the warriors grunted with effort.

“Hurt him?” she echoed, amused. “Who said anything about hurt? No. I am raising him as my own.”

She rubbed her stomach and chuckled, leaning in so only he could hear.

“He can’t wait to be a big brother,” she whispered, then walked away.

Nagafusa chuckled to himself as he watched Vu whisper to Sol. He didn’t need to hear the words to know his mate was being wicked. He watched his warriors struggle to keep the enraged Western Lord contained.

“Papa?”

“Yes, Kaname?” Nagafusa replied.

“Papa, is that yokai one of the people trying to hurt you and Mama?”

“Yes, Kaname.”

“Is he going to die, Papa?”

“Yes.”

“Like the others, Papa?”

“Yes, Kaname. Like the others.”

“Good,” the boy whispered, as Vu drew him back onto her lap.

The guards forced Sol to his knees and unlocked the chain from his neck. A giant yokai with an even bigger axe stepped beside him, blade already raised.

Nagafusa stood after giving Vu a kiss. All the villagers dropped to one knee as he faced the crowd.

“You are all here to bear witness to what happens to those who stand against me,” he announced, voice booming through the courtyard. “This is for all of you who think you might go against my lady and me. I’m sure most of you still remember Lord Sol.”

He raised his hand.

“Ready?”

He glanced at the boy. “Pay attention, Kaname. I’ll quiz you later.”

“Yes, Papa,” the child answered.

Sol looked at his son one final time.

I hope you give them hell, my son.

Nagafusa dropped his hand.

Kaname mimicked the motion.

Vu laughed as Sol’s head rolled across the courtyard and came to a stop at their feet. Kaname hopped down from his mother’s lap and kicked the head back across the courtyard like a ball.

“Papa, can me and Hidekatsu have the body?” he asked, eyes bright.

Nagafusa looked down at the pup and smirked.

“Of course you can, Kaname. Make a better one this time.”

“Yes, Papa.”

---

Nagafusa jolted awake, hand flying to the left side of the bed.

Empty.

He exhaled slowly, disappointment sliding into a satisfied smile.

“Shall I show you the Miko again?” Ota’s toneless voice drifted from the darkness. The wind yokai’s chuckle followed, thin and eerie.

Nagafusa laughed under his breath. He loved that dream. It always left him feeling good about the day ahead.

Just that much less time until he made the living Miko his life mate.

The things they would do to the world once he had her in his hands.

He knew, with a predator’s certainty, that one day the brothers would make a mistake—and when they did, he would be there to put Vu back together again.

Only next time, it wouldn’t be a dream.

“Yes,” he murmured, eyes gleaming.

“Show me the Miko, Vu.”

Sol stood in the tree line, watching as she stepped into the tiny clearing where he always met her when she was alone.

She lifted her face to the red moon with a sigh. An omen. Bad things were about to happen. His head tilted slightly as he studied her, wondering what thoughts moved behind those tired eyes.

She smiled faintly to herself. Bad things always happened—but this felt different. Tonight would be the night she confessed her heart’s desire.

He looked up at the red moon as well.

He would not let things end like that.

Her breath caught as he stepped into the clearing at last, the red light making his sharp features look almost unreal in her eyes. He stopped before her, and for a heartbeat, his cold expression softened into something else—something that made her heart stutter.

Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone, replaced by the chilly look he wore for the world.

She looked away, gathering her courage to speak.

Sol already knew the outcome of this night.

“Sol-sama,” she spoke softly, watching as he looked down at her again with that deceptively gentle gaze. “How… what do you think of me?”

---

Sol opened his golden eyes with a frown as a small weight crawled onto his bed.

“I had a bad dream, Papa,” his son mumbled, settling against his side. “A strange lady with white hair held me and told me she loved me…” His voice trailed off as sleep reclaimed him.

Sol stared at the red moon shining through the open veranda.

One more night of the red moon—the night he would finally meet his brother’s ragtag group.

And his Miko. The living Relic Miko.

They were meeting to plan the destruction of the vile Nagafusa. His latest plan was less bloody than Sol had expected… and more like a test. Could he be aiming for the living Miko instead? The creature within Sol growled.

Never. Never will I give her up.

Sol agreed.

Maybe the red moon was sending him messages. That dream he’d had every night since it first appeared in the sky—always the same: the clearing, the question, his own voice saying Nothing, and then everything burning.

But he wouldn’t let that happen.

He would never let Nagafusa win.

He sat up as his small pup snuggled closer to his hip and drifted back to sleep. Sol looked from his son to the stack of scrolls on his bedside table.

If the dream was right… then those scrolls held the secret to releasing the power within the living Relic Miko.

His Miko.

Sol smirked and pulled one into his lap.

It was the perfect time to do some reading.

---

The red moon hung heavy in the night sky when he felt her approach.

He heard, then smelled her before she entered the clearing—his Miko, creeping in as quietly as a mouse. Nervousness clung to her scent, threaded with hope and dread.

Far off, at the edge of his awareness, he felt a familiar, vile aura watching.

Nagafusa. Lurking. Waiting.

The dream flashed before his eyes as Vu stepped into view, as she drew in a breath, as her lips formed words he already knew.

“Sol-sama,” she spoke softly. “How… what do you think of me?”

He was silent for a heartbeat, mind racing.

The old answer burned on his tongue.

Then it hit him.

Sol stepped closer. His voice, when it came, was low and steady.

“I think,” he said, “that some answers should not be spoken where enemies are listening.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over her ear.

“If Nagafusa learns what you are to this Sol,” he whispered, “he will use it against us. Against you.”

She stiffened, eyes widening at the name.

“Why?” she asked. “Do you really think he would…?”

“Do you want to end up like Torii and the dead one?” he asked quietly.

Images from his dreams flickered behind his eyes—blood, ash, wolf skulls, Vu laughing with someone else’s name on her lips. He refused to let that future root itself in this moment.

Vu’s eyes widened further as she imagined it. “No,” she breathed. “You’re right, of course, Sol.”

He brushed his lips softly over her cheek, an almost shy kiss, feeling the moment Nagafusa’s presence slipped out of his senses—retreating, denied his anticipated cruelty.

Sol gave her a small, genuine smile.

“If it is my love you want,” he murmured, “know that you have that and much more, my Vu.”