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Meridian

Beneath the master’s silken gold hood, he could only see the sharp bridge of his nose and the light traces of a honey-blond five-o’clock shadow surrounding full lips.

It wasn’t his facial features that made Meridian rethink his next moves. It was his opponent’s body, a honed lethal weapon.

The massive fighter wielded no knives, firearms, or swords. Every inch of him was capable of defending any form of attack and inflicting blows that could result in death.

“You don’t appear to be in a position to give commands.” The shadowed rogue moving like liquid mercury spoke from behind his black mask. “Is your target worth your lives?”

He had an appearance, a fight style, and a voice designed to inflict fear.

“It’s not our lives you should be concerned about,” Meridian rasped as another deadly dance unfolded.

It was four against two.

Fists slammed into flesh, knees connected with sickening crunches. Each of them seemed to be fighting not to kill but to inflict such agony that the other bowed out.

The four of them fought with all they had. He and Ex fought with calculated destruction, but each move seemed anticipated and was deflected.

Grace and Mirage were a symphony of power and speed, moving together in a mesmerizing ballet of violence, flowing seamlessly together.

Yet, the two masters weren’t even out of breath as they countered eighty percent of their offense.

The brute, with hands sharp as cougar claws, slashed and tore through their clothes and skin, while the other one moved fast, making precise strikes at pressure points that crippled their lower extremities before he disappeared.

The fight slowed, then came to a halt, but neither had conceded.

The one who moved with viper-like speed and reflexes stood close to his partner and spoke before Meridian could.

“If you choose this as your last sunrise, will your country mourn you, Ravens? Will you die with glory bestowed on your names for eternity?” He cocked his head to the side as if he were confused about why they were fighting so hard. “You’d die for a government that does not know you exist.”

The hulking warrior in the gold-and-black scarf was breathing evenly when he declared, “You are worthy adversaries, Ravens. But you kill men in their sleep while miles away. You act as gods and take the lives of men at your will. And because you lack honor”—he crouched and flexed his hands back into sharp claws—“your lifeless forms will not haunt my dreams tonight while I sleep peacefully in the arms of my cherished.”

The snake eased back in front of his partner, wound, before he coiled his body down into a low one-legged stance, ready to strike.

Ex moved into position, and Grace and Mirage readied themselves for the final round.

“Wait! What did you say?” Meridian shot his hands forward to stop his team from advancing. “‘You’re cherished?’”

Meridian couldn’t contain the jolt that shot up his spine so fast his temple throbbed.

To the absolute shock of the other three Ravens, Meridian removed his black hood and showed himself. He’d never thought this day would come.

The fiercest, bravest man he’d ever known had prophesied this pivotal moment in his life.

He’d told Meridian to remember him…as his name would be the only way to save his life.

It was the birth name of the ghost that invaded the nightmares of men for decades. A myth. A man of no allies and no allegiance.

He was the beginning of them all.

The one true Master of War. The honorable one, the Alpha.

Meridian whispered the name he was unworthy to say.

“Daskshaun Armand.”