When Akira opened his eyes again, he was lying in Satomi's bed with the sheets tangled around them both.
The room was dim; the morning light had shifted to late morning, maybe early afternoon. His body felt heavy and warm and completely drained in a way that wasn't unpleasant.
Satomi was beside him, propped up on one elbow. Her hair was loose, and she looked perfectly calm as she traced idle patterns on his chest with one finger.
"You taste different from other essence-users," she said quietly. "There's something ancient in you."
"Well, even I'm still trying to learn more about all of this."
"I see." She met his eyes. "The essence or fragment, whatever it is, didn't just give you power. It marked you. Every demon with any real sensitivity will feel it when they're close to you. Some will kneel. Others will see you as a threat to the natural hierarchy."
Akira exhaled slowly. "That's going to complicate things."
