But this voice didn’t laugh or mock. It was as gentle as a breeze and kissed over his body like a gentle caress.

“Mom?”

She didn’t respond, but he knew it was her way of trying to help him. And he understood what she was saying.

Like it or not, he had to kill his father.

And there was only one way to do it.

One stab through his back. It was the only way to reach his callous heart.

Only a dishonorable coward would strike from behind.

He felt his Ryuichi-kage shifting inside him. That’s why you have me.

“I won’t do it,” Ryuichi said between clenched teeth.

But did he have any choice?

His father headed for Takara. “I think I’ll get the girl first.”

One move. One kill.

Ryuichi might never have this chance again. His father thought him too weak and worthless to bother with.

Even with a surprise attack, his chances were nothing.

Do not falter.

His friends or his honor . . .

Shaking with fear and indecision, Ryuichi made the only choice he could.

He ran for his father’s back.

And just as he reached him and started to plunge his dagger through his rib cage, one of his father’s soldiers appeared out of nowhere.

Tall and dark, this one held eyes so white they were searing. Eyes like Masaru’s.

Without hesitation, the samurai struck a staggering blow that reverberated through Ryuichi. His entire being reacted to the pain of being cut across his chest.

One minute he was up . . . and the next he lay bleeding on the ground, a useless, broken thing.

A Kai-den.

Keep fighting. You must keep fighting.

But it was so hard. He was tired, and now the blood soaked him. His body was turning cold, and the light around him grew darker.

Don’t give up!

Those were his last thoughts as the darkness came and wrapped him gently in her sweetest embrace . . .

* * *

Ryukage froze as he saw Tatsu raise his sword to behead his son.

The twin kami were there, too, urging Tatsu on.

“No!” he shouted. Using his powers, he blasted Tatsu, then ran to his son.

The boy was dying. And it was all his fault. Images of Haruka went through him. This boy had been her greatest gift to him.

Protect our child. Those had been her dying words. Even now, he could see her as the life drained from her beautiful eyes.

He’d made her that promise, and now he’d broken it. Grief and agony ripped through him with a ferocity that made a mockery of what he’d felt when Haruka died.

This was his last part of her.

The best part of himself.

“Wake up, child!” He commanded the boy to rise, but yet again his child ignored him. “Don’t you dare die!”