“Because it is,” Nekumo breathed in his ear. “Awaken, Kage-taro. For too long you’ve slept in this world where they hid you. The time has come for you to return home and claim your place.”

Confused, he scowled at the demon while his classmates remained frozen around him.

The demon smiled. “Keiko . . . kitsune. She stole you from us. Betrayed us. You were never nameless. Never worthless. Yorukaze Ryuichi. You are the Night Wind. The keeper of the sacred Kimon. More powerful than your own father. You are the prize we all covet. Come with me, my prince, and let me show you exactly how very valuable you really are.”

For the first time in his life, warmth filled him. It rushed through him like happiness.

Was it love? He didn’t know. How could he? But it chased away the cold he’d always felt and filled that bitter emptiness.

His head spun. The things she had told him . . . Were they true?

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. That was the old saying his senseis had taught him.

Who was he?

Ryuichi didn’t really know. And that truly scared him.

When the character of a man isn’t clear, look to his friends.

The demon stroked his cheek. “You have no friends. Only betrayers. Humans will fear you, and they always attack what they fear. They will destroy you, my lord.”

She wasn’t wrong.

How many times had he been attacked for no reason?

Nekumo laughed in his ear. “Keiko betrayed you first. Stealing you from your parents to save these pathetic humans. For years she stood by, pretending to be old and weak, but secretly laughing while they hurt you. Watching them all abuse you when she could have easily stopped it.” The demon tsked. “Poor you, to think she was your friend while she mocked you behind your back.”

Like everyone else.

His despair gave way to anger over that thought. How could she have done that?

“Why?”

“She was jealous of your beautiful mother. Wanted to punish her and you.”

“I was innocent!”

Nekumo laughed. “Aren’t we all? But not for long. What is the old saying? To be brave, a samurai must have a bit of black blood?” She laughed again, caressing his cheek. “You have more than a bit. Revel in it and let it guide you.”

He felt the heat rising inside him. The world was stained. And he was stained most of all.

Nekumo smiled. “You can be anyone you want to be, my prince. A beggar. A samurai. Or king. Your choice.”

How easy she made it sound.

Anything I want. He’d never had a choice so big or even a choice at all. Where did one start when the world was so open?