Page 103 of The Dragon 1

Scales lengthened into armor. Gills flared and vanished. Wings burst from its sides. The koi roared, no longer fish but flame, and took to the sky.

A dragon.

I smiled so hard my cheeks ached. “I love this. I have never heard the legend about koi either.”

The chef appeared quite pleased with himself.

Kenji grabbed his chopsticks, broke off a piece first, and dipped it lightly into the sauce before lifting it to his mouth.

“Mmm,” he groaned. Then, without looking at the chef, he reached for another slice, carefully cradled it between his chopsticks and leaned across the table toward me. “Try this.”

I froze.

He was feeding me.

Not playfully.

Not teasingly.

But with this utter smoothness that made my heart catch. Like he was offering a secret. Or sealing a vow.

I opened my mouth.

He placed the fish on my tongue.

It was cold at first.Silky. Then, citrus heat bloomed on the edges. The umami hit next—deep and rich, whispering of ocean, flame, and legends older than language.

I let out a quiet moan.

Kenji’s eyes darkened and his lips curved, just slightly.

God.

Even more I knew for sure that this man didn’t do anything without intention. Not one gesture or glance. Which meant. . . feeding me like that wasn’t just about taste. It was about claiming me. About testing how close he could get to my mouth, how soon I’d let myself become his.

And I had.

I was melting faster than the ice under that sashimi.

Or is this all in my mind?

“I am glad that you both are pleased,” the chef bowed again, then lifted the lid on the next tray.

I grabbed my chopsticks.

A sudden wisp of smoke rose into the air—earthy, warm, and aromatic. The dish sat on a square cedar board, over which hovered a delicate glass dome. Inside were glistening pieces of sushi.

“This isbincho-tan smoked toro,” he said. “That’s fatty tuna belly—very prized in Japan. It’s lightly torched, then enclosed in this dome to capture the smoke frombincho-tan, a type of white charcoal made from Japanese oak. The rice is seasoned with red vinegar and the garnish is pickled daikon radish and cherry blossom petals.”

Oh wow.

The aroma hit—wood, salt, and fat.

I picked the sushi up with my chopsticks, took a bite, and had to close my eyes.

Fire and flesh.

Melted fat coating the tongue.