Page 14 of Knotted by the Yakuza

Mate.

My mind almost rejected the truth in front of my eyes. For eight hundred fucking years, I watched over and over as other kitsune found mates.

Some quickly.

Some after centuries.

I never had.

Eventually, I stopped waiting and accepted the possibility that whatever curse had been placed upon me had taken the possibility of my mate too. Perhaps I was the only kitsune left on this earth destined to walk it alone. I had convinced myself that I did not care.

She continued to heal me, while I rechecked the red glowing threads again, following the line and making sure for a second time that they were connected.

God yes. She’s my mate. She’s mine!

It all made sense. My glamour was strong enough that even magic users wouldn’t see me. But I could never hide from my mate.

And if I had been another kitsune, she probably would not have come so close to heal me. But I was hers, whether she knew that or not, her magic and instincts knew, and she couldn’t resist coming closer.

How could this be?

My mate.

Finally.

If I had been in my male form, I would have scowled. This was not how I wanted my mate to meet me—at my worst. Yet, she had not recoiled. Instead, she had placed her hands on me and healed my shattered body.

“Alright. You’re not 100%, but surely you feel better.” Her magic poured through me. “I have to stop because I still need my energy to leave here.”

You’re not going anywhere, little witch.

My throat began repairing itself. My beast within surged violently.

Mine.

"I think that's all I can do." She leaned back. Her hands left me. The thread tugged.

A small group of humans was getting closer.