Ryuichi blinked hard, afraid that he might actually begin to cry in front of the fox spirit. “I’ve only been here a short time, and I’ve known you even less, but when I think about everyone . . . When I think about losing them, my heart begins to pound in ways it never has before. I don’t want to lose what little I have.” He choked up. “Masaru, you’ll be with me forever, right?”

Masaru froze as Ryuichi finally posed a question that echoed through his mind. That’s what I get for baiting him.

Because this one stung.

You’ll be with me forever.

No one had ever wanted him before. It was what had made him so hard for so long. Why tenderness was an alien concept to him.

More than that, he hated the sensation of caring about something. Caring about someone. Yet he felt it now.

His innate response was to lash out and crush whatever caused him to feel such a useless emotion—but Ryuichi was just a kid. A pathetic little thing, really. A defenseless neophyte alone in a harsh world that was ready to devour him.

The same way it’d torn him apart and crushed the decent parts that had once existed.

And for reasons Masaru couldn’t understand, Ryuichi’s simple question had reached inside him and awakened a compassion he didn’t want, but one he couldn’t deny. Before he even realized what he’d done, he sat down next to Ryuichi.

The young boy plopped his head into Masaru’s lap, taking him by surprise.

In that moment, the exact innocence of his young charge struck Masaru and reminded him of just how vulnerable Ryuichi really was. How much harm could be done to him and by him if he fell into the shadows that wanted to use him as their weapon.

Masaru and a small handful were basically the only things that stood between the boy and those who would use him.

For the first time in centuries, he didn’t feel the call of his black heart. Instead, he felt his inari origins. He’d been born a guardian, not a weapon of chaos.

A keeper of order.

Those two impulses were at war with each other.

Now, they were at war within him.

Unlike Ryuichi and Keiko, he’d succumbed to the darker part of his nature and had allowed it to claim him, body and soul. He’d reveled in it—and honestly, he’d enjoyed it. Masaru had not been kidding when he told Ryuichi he loved the sound of fear.

It empowered him.

But that was nothing compared to the warmth inside him right now. This . . .

He had no words for it.