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Holy shit. I’m his fucking mate. I really am. How is my life going to change?

We left that space, and he carried me down the hallway.

The ceiling rose high over dark beams. Paper lanterns glowed in the corners, and candles burned low in brass bowls on low tables. Branches of cherry blossoms spilled from black vases.

Across the far wall, a painted screen stretched from floor to ceiling. The image was of an old tree in pale ink. Its limbs reached out to the viewer and bloomed at the tips.

Beyond the tall windows, the lights of Kyoto glittered far below like somebody had spilled a jewelry box across the valley.

I let out a long breath. “This is. . .breathtaking.”

“And this is yours.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to see our home in New Orleans. I can smell the city, but I imagine being there would be an entirely amazing experience.”

Shocked, I looked up at him. “Because my house is. . .yours?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not as nice as this.”

“If it smells like you then it is more luxurious than this space.”

“There’s a lot of bones and dead things too since I do a lot of spell work there.”

“You offer your services?”

“Yes.”

“Hopefully, you do not call on the spirits to help you.”

“Of course I do.”

“Oh, little witch.” He frowned. “After I claim you. . .”

“What?”

“Most spirits will be afraid to appear.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You’re mine. They’re not to come around—”

“Yoichi, don’t come over here messing with my money—”

“You’re mine. You’re richer than—”

“I like helping people—”

“Help them without spirits—”

“That’s about fifty percent of my work—”

“Then, it will be exciting for you to explore the other fifty percent.”

I scowled at him.

He just stared back at me, and those eyes glowed bright orange. “I am already jealous thinking about you being on your knees and calling on a spirit to aid you. If you did that, I would fucking go into the spirit realm and duel.”

Say what now?