[Kitsune's POV]
For a Warlord who commanded an army of ten thousand men, Akira Kurogane was currently acting like a very large, very lethal guard dog.
It had been two days since the assassins dropped into the Ancestral Shrine. And for two days, Akira hadn't let me out of his sight for more than thirty seconds.
If I walked onto the veranda, he was standing right behind the sliding doors. If I poured a cup of tea, he took the first sip to check for poison. When I slept, he didn't even lie down; he just sat next to the futon with his hand resting over mine, his Warlord aura completely cloaking the room.
It was sweet. It was incredibly romantic. And it was driving me absolutely insane.
"Akira," I sighed, standing in the middle of our bedchamber. "I am just trying to pick out a clean pair of socks."
