The Wolf, the Demon, and Their Omega

Chapter Nine

KENJI

The text burns my phone screen while Mina destroys some wolf's entire worldview in AP Physics.

Tanaka Ramen. Now. Family emergency. - Uncle

Family emergency means someone's dead or someone's about to be. I slip out between bells, ignoring how the bonds pull when I leave her. The mark on my neck throbs like a second heartbeat.

Twenty minutes to New Haven on my bike, breaking every traffic law Connecticut bothers to enforce. The October air tastes like violence waiting to happen. My uncle doesn't do emergency meetings. He does executions with warning.

Tanaka Ramen squats between suburban nothing, looking like every other strip mall joint serving overpriced noodles to white people who think they're cultured. The college kids eating lunch don't notice the yakuza tattoos under the chef's sleeves. Never do.

Uncle waits in the real office. Soundproofed. Windowless. The kind of room where decisions get made and bodies get dissolved.

"Sit."

I sit. Tetsuya Fukiyama doesn't waste words when he's this still. Stillness means someone f****d up catastrophically.

"Your grandfather's journals." He slides a leather book across the desk. Old enough to smell like history and blood. "Read the marked page."

The Japanese characters swim, then focus. Bloodline records. Marriages arranged across centuries, each one annotated with symbols I don't recognize.

"What am I looking at?"

"Our family's greatest secret." He lights a cigarette with fingers that have strangled men. "And greatest shame."

I keep reading. The patterns emerge slowly—marriages that make no sense politically, alliances with families that vanished overnight. And through it all, one symbol repeating. A serpent eating its own tail, but with wings.

"Dragons."

"Fire dragons, specifically." He exhales smoke that smells like burnt offerings. "Your great-grandmother wasn't human. Neither was her mother. Or her mother's mother."

The words hit like someone rewired my DNA while I wasn't looking.

"That's impossible."

"Is it? Your fire burns hotter than any pure demon's. You've never needed teaching—it comes like breathing. And now..." He gestures at my neck where Mina's bite throbs. "A water dragon marks you, and suddenly your flames burn with purpose instead of just heat."

"Mina's not—"

"The Padilla girl is the last." He cuts me off with certainty that allows no argument. "The last water dragon bloodline, hidden in snake skin. Do you understand what that means?"

I understand that my world just tilted off its axis.

"I thought dragons were extinct."

"Dragons are selective." He stubs out the cigarette like it personally offended him. "They bred carefully, hid thoroughly. Mixed bloodlines with others to dilute the signature. But water dragons? They vanished completely. Until now."

He produces photos. Mina at school. Her forged documents. The police reports from her parents' murder.

"Marcus Chen. Federal investigator. Murdered three years ago." He taps the photo. "Along with his wife, a Brazilian snake shifter. Both hearts removed. But only his head taken."

"So?"

"So that's how you kill a water dragon permanently. Heart and head, or they regenerate." His smile could strip paint. "Someone knew what he was. What he was hiding."

He stands, moves to a wall I've always thought was solid. Presses his palm against a specific spot. The wall splits, revealing a vault that shouldn't exist.

"Come."

I follow him into air that tastes like centuries. Shelves line the walls, packed with scrolls, books, artifacts that make my skin prickle. This isn't just storage. This is memory made physical.

"The dragon archives." Uncle's voice echoes wrong in here. "Every yakuza family has one. Most are empty now—dragons don't leave much behind when they vanish. But we kept collecting."

He pulls out a scroll, unrolls it with reverent hands. A family tree spreads across silk, names in multiple languages, lines connecting across continents.

"Water dragons controlled the Asian trade routes for centuries. Fire dragons ran the Mediterranean. Earth dragons built empires in South America. Air dragons..." He shrugs. "Who knows? They vanished first."

"And now?"

"Now they hide in diluted bloodlines. Marry into other species to mask the signature. Your mother's grandmother was pure fire dragon. Married a demon to hide. Had children who could burn but didn't know why."

"Mom knows?"

"Your mother knows enough to be disappointed you weren't more. Your father?" Another shrug. "He married in. He gets told what he needs."

Cold comfort. I trace the bloodlines, see how they fracture and fade. Then stop at one name.

"Chen Li Shen."

"Water dragon. One of the last pure ones." Uncle taps the name. "Traveled extensively, trying to preserve bloodlines. Had affairs across three continents that we know of."

"Including with Anastasia Bolkonsky."

"Ah. You've been researching." He sounds pleased. "Yes. The Russian connection. Your friend Sasha's ancestor."

"Making us cousins."

"Distant. But dragon blood recognizes dragon blood." He rolls up the scroll, pulls out another. "This one's more recent."

Names I recognize. Families still active in the supernatural underworld. And at the bottom, circled in red: Marcus Chen.

"We've been tracking him for decades. Knew he was water dragon, knew he was hiding. When he married the snake shifter, we thought maybe he'd given up. Gone native."

"But?"

"But then someone killed them both. Professionally. And took trophies that only make sense if you know what he was." Uncle's eyes glitter. "Someone's hunting dragons, Kenji. Has been for years."

"Who?"

"That's the question. And the answer..." He gestures at the archives. "Is probably in here. Centuries of records. Alliances, betrayals, blood feuds that never ended. But you'd need months to go through it all. Years maybe."

"Unless?"

"Unless you had help. Someone with the right motivation to sift through centuries of old scrolls. Someone who wants revenge." He produces a contract from his jacket. "A wife."

I stare at the papers. Traditional marriage contract, written in Japanese and English. Binding in both human and supernatural courts.

"You want me to marry her so she can find out who killed her parents?"

"I want you to marry her because she's the last water dragon and you're one of the last fire dragons and together you might rebuild what was lost." His voice hardens. "The fact that it gives her access to hunt her parents' killers? Bonus."

"That's—"

"Strategic. Like every yakuza marriage." He slides the contract closer. "She gets protection, resources, answers. You get a bride who can make your fire sing. The family gets dragon bloodlines. Everyone wins."

"And if she says no?"

"Then I make some calls. Let certain parties know exactly what's on the market." He lights another cigarette. "The Calabrese are already suspicious. The Kim syndicate has theories. How long before someone else connects the dots?"

Blackmail wrapped in family concern. Classic Uncle.

"I need to talk to my pack."

"Your pack." He laughs. "Four boys playing house. You think that matters to real families?"

"It matters to her."

"Then make it matter to us." He stands, straightens his tie. "Bring them to dinner tomorrow. All of them. Let the elders see this new world order you're building."

"They'll hate it."

"They'll adapt. Dragons are excellent at adapting." He guides me out of the archives, wall sealing behind us. "Twenty-four hours, Kenji. Convince her."

"And if the pack objects?"

"Then convince them too. Fire dragons don't ask permission. We take what we need and make others grateful for it."

I leave with my head spinning and the contract burning a hole in my jacket. The ride back to Blood Moon happens on autopilot while my brain processes impossible truths.

I'm a dragon. We're all dragons. And Mina? She's mythology walking around in a school uniform.

I find them in the pack room. Our sanctuary. Mina paces while the others watch, everyone vibrating with tension I can taste through the bonds.

"Finally." She rounds on me, then stops. Sees my face. "What happened?"

"Everything." I pull out the journal, the contract, spread them on the table. "We need to talk."

They gather around as I explain. Watch their faces change as understanding hits. Sasha touches the photo of his ancestor with something like reverence. Adrian goes vampire-still. Lysander starts laughing, reality bending with his amusement.

"Dragons." Mina says it flat. "You're telling me we're all dragons."

"Diluted. Hidden. But yeah." I catch her hands, feel her perpetual cold against my heat. "You're the last water dragon, Mina. Your dad hid it even from your mom. And us? We're your distant cousins through about six generations of careful breeding."

"That's insane."

"That's yakuza record-keeping." I squeeze her hands. "My family has archives. Centuries of dragon history. Who they married, who they fought, who wanted them dead."

Understanding dawns in her eyes. "Who killed them."

"Maybe. Probably. But you'd need access. Family access."

I slide the contract between us. Watch her read, process, calculate.

"Marriage."

"Traditional yakuza marriage. With all the benefits and bullshit that includes."

She looks at the others. "You all knew he was going to ask?"

"Suspected." Sasha moves closer, and I feel the pack bonds pulse. "Your bite changed us all, but Kenji most obviously. Fire calling to water."

"And you're okay with this? Me marrying him?"

"I think it's brilliant."

We all turn to Adrian. He's smiling, fangs just visible.

"Think about it. Yakuza protection plus dragon archives. Access to centuries of information. And it keeps the other families from claiming you while we figure out what we are."

"Plus." Lysander adds. "It's not like supernatural marriage means the same as human marriage. It's alliance, not ownership."

"The pack stays together." Sasha's voice carries alpha weight. "The marriage is strategy. We're still five."

Mina studies each of us. I watch her catalog reactions, test bonds, look for fractures. Finding none.

"And you?" She turns to me. "What do you want?"

Truth feels dangerous. But she deserves it.

"I want you safe. Want answers about your parents. Want to stop pretending I don't burn differently since you bit me." I pull her closer. "Want you to have every weapon possible against whoever's hunting dragons."

"That's very practical."

"Also want to see you in a wedding kimono. Want to watch my mother's head explode when she meets you. Want—" I stop. Breathe. "Want you. However I can have you."

She kisses me. Hard. Possessive. I taste water and lightning, feel my fire respond like it's coming home. When she pulls back, we're both breathing hard.

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"I'll marry you. Play yakuza princess. Dig through dragon archives until I find who killed them." She smiles, all predator. "But I'm doing it as pack. You get me, they get me. No hierarchy."

"My family won't understand."

"Then we'll teach them." She looks at the others. "All of us. Together."

"Together." Sasha agrees. The word carries weight, makes the bonds sing.

"The yakuza won't know what hit them." Adrian sounds delighted.

"Reality's about to get very interesting." Lysander's grin could cut glass.

I pull out my phone. Text Uncle: She said yes. All of us for dinner tomorrow.

His response comes fast: All? Interesting. Your parents land at midnight. Try not to let them see the full situation until dinner

"My parents are coming."

"Tonight?" Mina pales slightly.

"Midnight. They'll want to meet their future daughter-in-law immediately."

"What do I wear to meet yakuza in-laws?"

"Something that says 'I'm a mythical creature marrying your son for strategic purposes but might also love him.'"

"So, business casual?"

We laugh. Even Sasha cracks a smile. The bonds pulse with shared amusement, shared purpose. We're ridiculous—dragons playing human while humans play at being dangerous.

"There's more." I pull her back onto my lap, feel the others close in. Pack comfort. "The archives are extensive. Centuries of records. But also—"

"What?"

"Protections. Wards. Things that recognize dragon blood." I touch her mark on my neck. "You'll be able to access sections even I can't. Water dragons were the record keepers. The memory holders."

"You think my father left something there?"

"I think dragons don't die without leaving messages. And if he knew someone was hunting him..." I shrug. "Where better to hide information than in yakuza vaults?"

She processes this. I feel her mind working through bonds that taste like deep water and possibility.

"When?"

"When what?"

"When do we marry?"

"Traditionally? Negotiations take months. Ceremonies, contracts, gift exchanges. But given circumstances..." I grin. "Uncle might fast-track it. Weeks maybe."

"Weeks." She tests the word. "I'll be Mina Fukiyama in weeks."

"Technically you can keep your name. Or hyphenate. Dragon names have power—wouldn't want to give that up."

"Mina Padilla-Fukiyama." She wrinkles her nose. "That's a mouthful."

"You're a mouthful." I kiss her again, slower this time. Feel the others' approval through the bonds. "Beautiful, dangerous, impossible mouthful."

"Smooth talker."

"Yakuza prince. Comes with the territory."

She settles against me, and I feel the moment she fully commits. Not just to marriage but to what it means. Alliance. Protection. Access to centuries of carefully hoarded secrets.

"Your uncle knows who killed them. Doesn't he?"

"He has theories. Suspicions. But proving it?" I shrug. "Different game. One that requires evidence. The kind hidden in archives."

"Then I guess I better learn to be a good yakuza wife."

"You'll be terrible at it." I say it with affection. "You don't submit, don't defer, don't play traditional anything."

"But?"

"But you're a dragon. That trumps everything else." I stand, bringing her with me. "Come on. If my parents are landing at midnight, we need to make you presentable."

"I'm always presentable."

"For Connecticut? Sure. For Japanese dragon yakuza who've been planning my marriage since birth?" I look her over. School uniform, messy hair, eyes that hold too much truth. "We've got work to do."

The pack mobilizes. Sasha produces a credit card that has no limit. Adrian knows exactly where to shop after hours. Lysander makes reality bend so we can get to as many places three times as fast.

And me? I text Uncle updates while watching my fiancée try on clothes that cost more than cars.

We're shopping. She's taking it seriously.

Good. Your mother will notice everything.

She usually does.

Kenji. He sends a photo. Old, grainy. A woman in traditional dress standing next to a man in military uniform. Your great-grandmother and her husband. Show Mina. Tell her dragons recognize dragons.

I study the photo. See the family resemblance. The way they stand—careful distance that screams intimacy. Like us. Like all dragons pretending to be something else.

"Hey." I show Mina the photo. "My dragon great-grandmother."

She takes it with careful hands. Studies it like it holds answers.

"She looks sad."

"Hiding does that." I pull her close. "We won't hide. Not anymore."

"No." She agrees. "We'll burn bright enough they can't ignore us."

"Water doesn't burn."

"It does if it's hot enough." She grins. "And I'm about to get very, very hot."

The bonds pulse with promise. Four dragons and a snake walking into yakuza territory.

What could possibly go wrong?