Page 26

Chief Styles Sawyer

Zorion

Zorion gaped at the layout of the bathroom.

To the left was a deep marble tub partially surrounded by a stone wall. It was partially sunken into the floor with lush ferns and exotic plants lining the perimeter, and bathed in natural sunlight from the glass ceiling. He couldn’t resist stripping down and stepping beneath the rainfall shower right then. Eyeing the keypad, he saw the water could be adjusted to mimic cooling mist or jungle rain.

Zorion stared at the water running down the defined ridges of his chest and abdomen. His muscles stood out in stark definition. He didn’t think he’d been this ripped before the serums. He traced the washrag over his forearms, noting the protruding cords and strength pulsing under his skin.

He should’ve felt pride, but instead, he was left with an unease that he was a man who’d become something only partly human.

He washed and washed, then washed a third time, but there was no ridding himself of the countless touches from strangers he’d been forced to endure for weeks.

After drying off, Zorion went to the closet, curious about what clothes they’d given him.

He frowned at the meticulously arranged rows of shirts, hoods, and pants in almost every shade of green. From seafoam to lime to juniper. Zorion pulled on a fitted cotton T-shirt and olive-green cargo pants that were, not surprisingly, the perfect fit.

He stared at himself in the full-length mirror, trying to summon a memory, anything. He ran his fingers over the smooth, pale scars that covered most of the right side of his face and neck.

How was I burned? What happened?

“God, why won’t anyone tell me?” he cried in anguish.

The injury looked as if it had healed a while ago, but each line and patch of discolored skin was a story he wanted to hear.

A reflection stared back at him, unfamiliar and quiet. He searched the depths of his green eyes—did he get those eyes from his mother or father?

He continued staring at himself until a knock on the door disrupted his concentration.

Zorion hesitated. He didn’t want company, and he didn’t trust what they had planned next. He made no sound as he stood by the door.

“Your dinner,” a male voice said.

He waited a moment until he heard his retreating steps.

When Zorion heard the elevator close, he opened his door and pulled the cart into the foyer.

He lifted the glistening silver domes and was accosted with the mouthwatering scent of a whole seared fish and fresh vegetables.

He lifted the glass pitcher of water—bypassing the glass goblet—and took long, satisfying gulps. It tasted as if it’d been drawn straight from a spring. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he began to devour his food.

By the time he finished, it was night, yet he could still see the intricate details of his outside oasis.

Despite how luxurious and comfortable his bed appeared, he didn’t want to lie in it. Instead, he walked around the terrace, enjoying the lush grass against his bare feet and allowing the cool night air to wrap around him.

Zorion stretched out on his back and stared up at the dark sky.

Had he always been so mesmerized by the stars?

He stayed that way, watching the slow-moving clouds and the slight glow of the crescent moon, helpless as his mind wandered to places and people he couldn’t remember.

Eventually, the quiet hum of the night lulled him to sleep.

Chief Aiken Oakley

Valor

Valor lay silent in the darkness, his senses hyperaware, his instincts razor-sharp. He was still in awe of the power he’d exhibited during training. It was hours later, and his muscles were still coiled with a readiness to pounce.

What did they do to me? I have to get—

Valor heard pacing steps just outside his door and a low intake of breath before his front door was pushed open.

Whoever it was had a keycard that accessed his quarters—he’d been lied to. He was told no one could enter his “home” without his approval.

He remained silent and unmoving, secluded high in a tree on his terrace.

There were several branches sturdy enough to hold his weight. It was how he’d slept last night and how he preferred tonight’s rest as well. Lying on the wide branch was far more comfortable, and also smart of him.

He could see his intruder, but they couldn’t see him…not unless he wanted them to.

A woman moved guardedly around his space. She was careful but not as silent as she must’ve thought. He watched her. She was trained, moving with caution and stealth.

Valor allowed her to check his bedroom. She gaped when she saw the empty bed.

He stayed still, but his mind was moving fast, not knowing if she was a threat.

Who are you, huh? What do you want?

She tiptoed onto the terrace, her breaths coming a bit quicker as if she knew she was being watched.

“Why are you looking for me?”

She whirled around as her heartbeat spiked.

“I’m Jo.” She searched the darkness for him.

She had no idea just how close he was.

“I’m an ally, Valor. Please don’t attack me.” Her voice was light but filled with urgency.

He didn’t speak again.

She seemed to try to slow her breathing before she continued, “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to you. I’ve been trying since the first day they brought you here.”

“Who are you?” he growled.

“I’m a spy. I infiltrated the Ravens organization three years ago when my order was contacted by various government informants, telling us that they were turning men into weapons and using them for corrupt purposes.”

She paused as if waiting for him to acknowledge that, but when he didn’t speak, she kept talking. “You’re not who they said you are.” She glanced around the large terrace, still looking for him. “They took your name and gave you a new identity after your transformation.”

No shit.

“They chose to call you Valor because you were the worthiest and bravest of all the other candidates. And they plan to completely erase your past and mold you into a very powerful weapon at their control and disposal. An assassin . But I came to tell you the truth.”

Truth . That word didn’t belong in this place. Conspiracies and deceit, yes, but not truth.

Still, he listened.

“You are… Well, you were Chief Aiken Torr Oakley of the US Navy.” Her eyes were shiny and wide. “You’re a hero, a leader, and a decorated chief. An officer who’s still considered MIA.”

Valor’s own heart began to race.

“You were ambushed in a rescue mission in Novo Aripuan?. You and your comrade Sawyer survived. You were lost in the Amazon rainforest for three nights before you stumbled upon the illegal animal poaching and experiments the Ravens were doing just outside of Borba.”

Sawyer .

The name pulsed in the back of his mind, a ghostly spirit hovering just beyond reach.

“They took your past, your name, and your identity, Valor. I only managed to skim a small amount of the recon the research team uncovered. There’s a lot more, but I couldn’t stay in the records department for long.” She glanced toward the door. “I have to go—”

“Who are you spying for?”

“For the Order of Imuma Aga Khan. I will explain more later but do not repeat that name here ever . I will explain more when—”

He didn’t know who or what that was, and he didn’t care.

“What’s been done to my body?” he demanded, his voice low and cutting.

He saw her shake her head, heard the sorrowful sigh.

“They merged your DNA with a puma—the apex predator of the Amazon jungle. That’s why you’re faster, stronger, your senses sharper.”

“How is that possible?” he gritted.

She gulped. “Groundbreaking technology, brilliant scientists who specialize in gene mutation and human-animal hybrids, and a shit-ton of money.”

Valor exhaled slowly, primal power burning beneath his skin. He was a man, a military officer, and now he had the instincts of a feline that had existed for over nine million years woven into his DNA.

Am I more man or beast?

“Valor, the director has other assassins, more Ravens.” She scanned the terrace again in an attempt to find him. “But you and Zorion are different. The organization wants warriors with animal instincts with even fewer human morals than what was stripped from the Blacks and the Browns. Their serums wore off over time. Yours won’t. It’s permanent, and now he’s about to send you both into phase three.”

Valor watched her, weighed her every word. He believed what she was confessing. He could sense her and the hint of desperation she had for him …not for herself. She genuinely wanted to help him.

“What is phase three?”

“The Emotrixal injections. A serum that will strip you of all emotions. Your ability to feel compassion, love, empathy. You will be nothing more than an evil killing machine. And if I don’t get you out soon, there’ll be no saving you.”

Evil .

He felt keenly aware, invincible, but far from evil. He didn’t have a desire to kill anyone.

If what this woman—this spy—was saying about him was true, then he’d fought admirably for his country. He’d overseen rescue missions. He’d saved lives, not taken them.

A quiet rage sizzled inside his chest.

“Please trust me, Valor. Use your instincts. See that I’m good and not deceiving you.”

“I believe you,” he said.

This woman knew of other made assassins. She knew the facility well enough to move in the shadows and avoid the guards. She could be the asset, the assistance he needed to get out.

“This other man… Sawyer . I think he’s the one in my dreams.”

Jo was quiet for a few seconds, then nodded. “It’s very possible. You and Sawyer had a connection. I saw footage from when you were in the Ravens camp in Borba. You cared deeply for him.”

“Where is he?”

“It’s protocol that you are kept apart to ensure you’re compatible and—”

“Where?” he said with such force and menace that Jo stumbled backward.

“He’s at the end of the hall. He is called Zorion. He has the mutated gene of the black hawk.”

Valor’s heart soared. Sawyer was the raptor in his dreams. The bird with wings so dark and wide they blocked the light from the moon.

“He is strong, Valor. Zorion means ‘hunter of the sky.’ He radiates power and strength, but he is also your natural enemy, which was not done by accident.”

He is mine.

“They’ll reunite you soon, crossing their fingers that you won’t try to attack each other. The Blacks and the Browns will never turn on their partners, no matter what. They were made to be most effective and deadly together.”

Her answers were fast and sure, meaning true.

A rumble formed low in his gut. The thought of hurting the man in his dreams made anger burn like lava in his stomach.

“Valor, you are a naval officer. You’ve survived a lot, and you’ll survive this. Stay strong,” Jo stressed. “Stay cooperative. Don’t give the director a reason to believe the experiments have failed because he’ll eliminate all loose ends and start over.”

Valor had already planned to do that.

“I will work out a way to get you out. I have a small team here I’ve formed an alliance with and can be trusted. I’ll come back with my plan when it’s safe.”

She turned and hurried out of his home as if she’d stayed far longer than she’d intended.

Valor stared into the dark sky for several hours, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from shifting toward the door at the other end of the hall.

Before he could think twice, he leaped from the tree, stormed across the hardwood floors of his living quarters, and out of the door.