Page 102 of Lord of the Lone Wolf
“Nothing exists between us except your delusions, which have led you to start a war that has claimed thousands of lives. You have dabbled in forbidden necromancy, which has destroyed you. You even threatened the life of your own son.”
The mention of Maseo acted as a spark to dry tinder. Nasume’s pleasant facade cracked, revealing the rage beneath. “What does that pathetic half-breed have to do with anything?”
“Not only did you almost kill him, but you intended to sacrifice his soul to Ishibiya,” Kitsuki reminded him. “Your own son, Nasume. Have you no shame?”
“He is nothing but a mistake,” Nasume spat in disgust. “Ishibiya would have put his worthless existence to better use than he ever managed on his own.”
The casual cruelty with which Nasume dismissed his own child ignited the protective rage within Kitsuki’s dragon, clawing against his restraint. “He is worth a hundred of you.”
Nasume went still, his eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.” Kitsuki stepped forward, allowing his anger to show. “He has more honor, more decency, more worth in his little finger than you have in your entire body.”
“You dare to defend him?” Nasume’s voice rose. “After everything I have offered you, you would rather stand up for that worthless halfling?”
“Yes.”
Nasume’s features contorted with rage. “Why would you choose him over me?”
“Despite your best attempts to kill him, he has become a good, handsome man who deserves better than your abuse.”
Something snapped in Nasume’s eyes. The seductive mask fell away, revealing the monster beneath. Shadows gathered around him, writhing like living things in the amber light of the room.
“You cannot have him,” Nasume snarled, his voice distorted. “I will tear his soul from his body and feed it to Ishibiya before I let you have him.”
Kitsuki’s dragon surged forward, his eyes filling with molten silver but remaining under control. “I will never allow you to touch him again.”
Nasume laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor. “Where were you when he screamed as I shattered his knee? When he begged for mercy after I ordered my men to take him to the woods and have their way with him?”
The dragon roared within Kitsuki’s mind, demanding vengeance. Kitsuki struggled to maintain control, to avoid shifting and tearing Nasume apart where he stood.
“And yet, despite everything, you still could not break his spirit,” Kitsuki’s dragon taunted. “He survived and is stronger than you will ever be.”
“My men should have finished the job,” Nasume hissed. “But they will not fail again.”
“I will kill you before I let you harm him again.” Kitsuki drew his sword, the blade glowing silver with his dragon’s power as he cut through the attack, dispersing it into wisps of darkness. “Have you lost all reason?”
Nasume laughed, the sound unhinged. “Reason has no place in love, Kitsuki.”
“This has never been about love,” Kitsuki countered, circling as Nasume gathered more shadows.
“Call it what you will.” Nasume’s shadowmancy swirled around him like a cloak. “But you will be mine, or you will be no one’s.”
The wolf king launched another attack, sending a wave of shadows sweeping across the floor at Kitsuki. Where it touched, the obsidian cracked.
Kitsuki vaulted over the shadows, landing behind Nasume. He swung his sword in a deadly arc toward the wolf king’s neck.
Nasume avoided the blade. “There he is,” he purred, his voice thick with perverse pleasure. “The dragon I have always known lurked beneath that cold exterior. Show me your fire, Kitsuki.”
The words, dripping with inappropriate desire, made Kitsuki’s stomach turn. Even in combat, Nasume twisted everything into his deranged fantasy. “You mistake my rage for passion.”
Nasume’s grin widened, revealing too many teeth. “Rage, passion, what does it matter? Both burn.” He licked his lips, his yellow eyes gleaming with flickers of green necromancy.
Instead of responding with words, Kitsuki’s sword blazed with silver fire as he launched a series of precise, powerful strikes that forced Nasume to the defensive.
The wolf king summoned shadow barriers to block each blow, but Kitsuki could see the strain it placed on him. Necromancy had granted Nasume’s shadowmancy new power, but it came at a cost. Each time Kitsuki’s blade struck the shadows, they hissed and recoiled in pain.
“Your magic is corrupted,” Kitsuki observed, pressing his advantage. “Just like your soul.”
