Page 101 of Knotted by the Yakuza

The face cracked. One line. Then another. Then a hundred, spiderwebbing across the smoke like ice on a frozen pond.

And then the whole thing shattered.

Fragments of black scattered into the night, smaller and smaller, until the steam swallowed them and the moon shone clean again.

Gone.

Gabby went still in my arms.

Then the bond flooded with her. Shock first. Then disbelief. Then a grief so deep it nearly brought me to my knees in the water. Grief for every woman in her line who had loved and lost.

Every aunt.

Every grandmother.

Every one of them who'd died alone.

And under all of it, rising like the tide. . .

Relief.

She didn't make a sound. Her shoulders barely moved. But I knew. I could feel her tears in my own chest before I ever smelled the salt.

"It's gone," she whispered. "Yoichi. . .Beast. . .it's really gone. Like. . .the heart is there, but it’s just a tattoo now."

"Yes, little witch." I lowered my snout and turned her face toward me. Tears streamed down her brown cheeks, shining in the lantern light. I let my tongue slide free and licked them away. One cheek. Then the other.

She laughed through a sob. "That's so gross."

"You like it."

"I do." She pressed her cheek to my snout. "Thank you."

"You did that. Not me."

And she wept harder, and I kept licking every tear away until there were none left. Then, through the bond, her grief burned away.

What rose in its place was hotter.