I Stole the Villain's Cat, and Now He Thinks I'm His Wife

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

The sound of Uncle Kenji’s wooden sandals echoed off the dark stone walls of the underground corridor.

He stopped ten paces away, the flickering light of the wall torch casting long, twisted shadows across his face. He wore his dark purple Imperial Onmyoji robes, though they looked rumpled and stained with snow. In his left hand, he held a glowing yellow talisman.

In his right hand, he held the bamboo practice sword.

The exact same bamboo sword he had used to beat me black and blue in the Bureau’s basement for nine years.

My breath hitched. A sudden, violent wave of pure, unfiltered trauma washed over me. My hands started to shake. I could smell the toxic ash. I could feel the damp, freezing dirt of the basement floor.

"Well, well, well," Uncle Kenji sneered, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. He tapped the bamboo sword against his open palm. Smack. Smack. "Look at you. Wearing fine northern wool. Silk in your hair. Did you really think playing dress-up would change what you are, Kitsune?"

"How did you get in here?" I demanded, my voice trembling slightly.

The fortress was under lockdown. The outer gates were surrounded by hundreds of corrupted yokai.

"The Demon Prince is a brute," Kenji laughed, taking a slow step forward. "He builds massive iron walls to keep armies out. But he forgets that onmyodo magic was designed to slip through the cracks. While he’s out there throwing fire at mud-demons, I simply walked through the shadows."

He pointed the bamboo sword at my face.

"Now," Kenji commanded, his voice dropping into that terrifying, authoritative tone I had obeyed my entire life. "Step away from the door, rat. Hand over the child and the cat, and I might let you live long enough to watch the Emperor execute your monster of a husband."

I looked at him. I looked at the bamboo sword.

My entire body screamed at me to drop to my knees and apologize. It was a reflex built into my bones.

But then, I felt a heavy weight in my dark indigo sash. The Tessen. The black iron war fan Akira had placed in my hands just a few hours ago.

You are not just a bride, Akira’s voice echoed in my head, warm and absolute. You are my partner. I trust you with my home.

I took a deep breath. The freezing panic in my chest was suddenly swallowed whole by a boiling, white-hot wave of anger.

I didn’t step away from the armory door.

Instead, I shoved Rin and Yuki entirely inside the dark room.

"Hey! It’s dusty in here!" Yuki complained loudly.

I didn’t answer. I grabbed the heavy iron handle and pulled the massive armory door completely shut. I slid the master key into the lock and turned it with a loud, final CLANG.

I pulled the key out and dropped it down the front of my tunic.

I was locked out in the hallway. With him.

"What are you doing?!" Yuki’s muffled, panicked voice yelled from the other side of the thick iron door. He started pounding his small fists against the metal. "Kitsune! Open the door! You have zero magic, you absolute idiot!"

"Stay with Rin!" I yelled back over my shoulder.

I turned to face my uncle. I wasn’t shaking anymore.

Kenji stared at me, his ugly smile faltering for a split second before returning with twice the malice.

"Playing the brave Warlord’s wife?" Kenji scoffed, raising the bamboo sword. "You have no magic, Kitsune. You are a void. A useless, empty cup. I am going to beat you until you remember your place, and then I am going to melt that iron door with this talisman."

He lunged.

He was fast. He was a trained Imperial officer, and he moved with the lethal speed of a man used to terrorizing the weak. The bamboo sword whistled through the air, aimed directly at my collarbone.

I didn’t freeze. I didn’t cower.

Keep your center of gravity low, the Demon Prince whispered in my memory. A ghost never throws her entire weight into the first blow.

I dropped my stance, bending my knees exactly the way Akira had taught me, and pivoted sharply on my right heel.

CRACK!

The bamboo sword completely missed my shoulder and smashed violently against the stone wall behind me, sending a shower of splinters into the air.

Kenji’s eyes went wide. His momentum carried him forward, throwing him entirely off balance.

"You missed," I whispered.

I whipped the Tessen out of my sash. I flicked my wrist.

SNIKT.

The heavy, black iron fan snapped open. The razor-sharp metal ribs gleamed in the torchlight.

Kenji let out an angry yell, desperately trying to pull the bamboo sword back for a reverse strike. He swung wildly at my ribs.

I didn’t dodge this time. I stepped directly into his guard. I raised the heavy iron fan, catching the bamboo blade between the metal ribs.

I twisted my wrist violently.

The heavy iron caught the wood. With a loud, satisfying SNAP, the bamboo practice sword completely shattered in Kenji’s hands.

"My sword!" Kenji gasped, staring at the splintered stump in his hands. He looked up at me in absolute shock. "How—?"

"I don’t need magic to break a stick, Uncle," I gritted out.

I snapped the iron fan shut. Using the solid, heavy metal base of the Tessen, I drove my arm forward and slammed it directly into his jaw.

The impact was bone-crunching.

Kenji’s head snapped back. He let out a pathetic, gargling cry as he stumbled backward, his wooden sandals slipping on the smooth stone floor. He hit the opposite wall hard and slid down to his knees. Blood instantly began to pour from his nose and split lip.

I stood over him, my chest heaving, the heavy iron fan gripped tightly in my calloused hand.

I had done it. After nine years of terror, I had finally hit him back.

"Do not ever," I breathed, my voice shaking with pure adrenaline, "come near my family again."

Kenji spat a mouthful of blood onto the stone floor. He looked up at me, his nose crooked and his purple robes ruined.

He wasn’t terrified. He wasn’t begging for mercy.

He started to laugh.

It was a wet, ugly, hysterical sound that completely destroyed my momentary feeling of victory. A cold spike of dread shot straight into my stomach.

"Your family?" Kenji wheezed, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He let out another hacking laugh. "You stupid, arrogant little rat. Did you really think I came here to fight you?"

He slowly uncurled his left hand.

The glowing yellow talisman was still resting in his palm.

"I told you," Kenji smiled, his teeth stained red. "I used the shadows to slip through the Warlord’s cracks. But I am not an assassin, Kitsune. I am a doorstop."

He slammed the glowing yellow talisman flat against the stone floor.

The magic didn’t explode. It didn’t shoot fire or ice.

Instead, the yellow light instantly turned a sickly, bruised purple. The stone floor beneath the talisman began to ripple and melt, expanding rapidly outward until a massive, ten-foot pool of liquid, bubbling shadow completely swallowed the corridor.

The air temperature plummeted to freezing. The torches on the walls flickered and died, leaving the hallway bathed only in the unnatural, eerie purple light radiating from the shadow-pool.

My heart completely stopped.

I took a stumbling step back until my shoulders hit the heavy iron door of the armory.

The shadow-pool began to boil.

First, the hands appeared. Dozens of pale, armored hands reached out of the liquid darkness, gripping the edges of the stone floor.

Then, they pulled themselves out.

Twenty Imperial Elite Assassins, completely clad in featureless black armor and terrifying, faceless iron masks, rose silently from the shadows. They held curved, poisoned daggers that dripped with dark liquid.

They formed a perfect, disciplined half-circle, completely blocking the hallway. Completely trapping me.

And then, the shadows rippled one last time.

A single man stepped gracefully out of the portal, his pristine, pale green silk robes perfectly untouched by the darkness. He held an elegant, painted folding fan, casually tapping it against his chin.

Second Prince Jin.

The three angry, red claw marks from Yuki were still visible across his nose, but the playful, fox-like smile on his face was completely gone. He looked absolutely lethal.

"Hello again, little floor-scrubber," Prince Jin murmured. His smooth voice echoed down the terrifyingly quiet corridor.

He snapped his painted fan shut.

"You have been a very sharp thorn in my side," Jin sighed dramatically, stepping over my bleeding uncle without even looking down. "Your Warlord is currently very distracted at the front gates, burning his magical core to ash. Which leaves you completely alone."

I gripped the Tessen so hard my knuckles turned white. I was trapped. Akira was outside. I had no magic, and twenty trained assassins were staring at me.

Jin raised a single, elegant finger and pointed it directly at my chest.

"Bind the rat," the Second Prince ordered, his eyes gleaming with pure malice. "Melt the door. Kill the child and the beast. We are taking the Warlord’s heart back to the capital in a cage."

The twenty faceless assassins drew their poisoned blades and lunged.