Page 41

Chief Aiken Oakley

Valor

The scent of morning dew drifted through the open doors of the foyer as Omega and Lion stood outside waiting to start their training.

He and Zorion would be apart all day, and he didn’t like it, but he’d trust the masters knew what they were doing.

Valor tightened his grip on Zorion’s waist and drew him closer. The warmth of his body was grounding, a reassurance of the bond they’d solidified the night before.

He stared into Zorion’s green eyes, which shimmered like iced jade in the dawn’s light.

“I can still smell myself inside you,” Valor said too low for anyone else to hear, nipping at Zorion’s earlobe. “You will always smell like me.”

Zorion gazed up at him with an intensity that made the world around him fade.

They both knew what lay ahead—hours of grueling training, pain, a transformation that would shape them into warriors worthy of their animals and the honor of Imuma Aga Kahn.

Zorion brushed his fingers along the edge of his jaw before pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“Good luck today,” Zorion whispered, his voice still rough and husky from sleep.

Valor smiled against the rough skin of Zorion’s other cheek, nuzzling deeper under the light fabric of his hood.

“I don’t need luck. But you…try not to get tossed off a cliff, my sexy hawk. Let Omega know you can only fly when wearing the suit.”

They both chuckled before easing into another snug embrace, their lips instantly finding each other again.

Valor went deeper, past the taste of mint to his natural flavor. The soft hum of appreciation made him want to turn around and take Zorion back to bed.

“Cherished,” Zorion murmured, his fingers tightening around the folds of Valor’s tunic.

Before he could respond, a sharp voice cut through their moment.

“Enough.”

Lion’s command was firm and left no room for disobedience. He and Omega were clad in black. They had no weapons, yet they radiated danger.

Valor sighed, his jaw tightening as he pressed one last lingering kiss to Zorion’s lips.

“We will get our revenge,” Valor vowed.

Zorion nodded, his expression hard and determined. “Yes, we will.”

The two of them turned toward their respective trainers. The younger disciples were kneeling in perfect formations nearby as if in prayer while men in all-black robes stood before them.

Lion gestured for Valor to follow him, and Omega led Zorion in the opposite direction. He cast one last glance over his shoulder, catching sight of Zorion’s back before he disappeared into the dense woods.

The scent of honey and pine filled the air as Valor followed Lion deeper into the wilderness.

The rustling of unseen wildlife and the distant calls of eagles and hawks were the only sounds this far from the main grounds. The terrain was wild and unforgiving as Lion moved at a pace that showed he was used to it.

They reached a clearing where the ground was covered in moss and ancient trees stood along the borders.

After a long moment of silence, Lion dropped to his knees in a slow, fluid motion, and Valor did the same.

“You will first need to understand your element, Valor,” Lion began. “The jungle, the forest is alive. It breathes and speaks. And if you are wise enough to listen, it will teach you all it knows.”

Valor brushed his palm along the cool soil. “What does it say?”

Lion’s lips curved in the faintest grin. “That depends on what you ask it.” He gazed up at the trees. “The forest is not just a maze of branches and vines. It will answer you with the rustling of leaves and the chorus of insects. Being within it is not about dominance but balance. That every creature, no matter how small, has an intricate role to play.”

That sounded so familiar to Valor, but he didn’t interrupt.

“The jungle will teach you humility. If you rush through it blindly, you’ll get lost, but if you move through it with respect and awareness, it will guide you on the right path.”

Valor closed his eyes and dug his fingers deeper into the soft earth.

“An apex predator, a true hunter, draws its will from nature. The tiger is not feared solely for its strength, but because it embodies a perfect balance of patience and power in the wild.”

Lion faced him.

“An animal that wreaks havoc and disrupts the balance of nature will never find harmony, but one that walks in rhythm with it will be unstoppable.”

As if Lion had timed it perfectly, a sleek big cat emerged from the jungle, moving with ghostly grace. Her golden coat was speckled with dark rosettes that blended into her surroundings.

Valor swallowed as his heartbeat picked up pace.

“Calm, Valor. Big cats do not waste movement. They don’t engage in frivolous battle.” Lion crouched. “They wait, listen. And if they move, the fight is already over before it even began.”

Valor remained still.

“Persian leopards are this island’s apex predator. They do not follow commands. They respond to respect.”

The leopard’s golden eyes flicked toward Lion and then to him before she let out a slow, rumbling growl. She didn’t attack or show fear. She simply was .

Valor watched in awe as Lion extended his hand and the leopard approached him, brushing her massive head against his palm.

“Holy shit,” Valor whispered.

“She’s in just as much awe with us as we are with her,” Lion said.

“I understand,” Valor said as the cat approached him and rubbed her big body around his lower legs before darting back into the woods.

“The animal within you is lost and needs to find harmony before you can fight…and be victorious.”

Without warning, Lion flexed his hands, curling his fingers into a claw. With a single swipe, he struck the bark of a massive tree trunk, and with a loud, splitting sound, deep gashes tore through its surface. Splinters flew and the bark peeled away as if it’d been raked by a pitchfork.

“What in the…?” Valor stared at Lion.

“This”—Lion held up his hands—“is the strength of the tiger. It’s not brute force but precision. A predator cat’s claws don’t simply scratch…they tear with intention and control.”

He came forward and swiped at Valor, aiming for his chest.

He barely had time to react before Lion shot his other palm out, connecting with his shoulder. He stumbled but caught himself as he dropped into a defensive stance.

“Show me,” Lion demanded in a low growl. “Show me what the disgraced Ravens have taught you.”

Valor narrowed his eyes as he circled Lion with slow and careful movements.

He lunged at Lion’s ribs, but the seasoned fighter sidestepped the attack with ease, twisting like water flowing around a rock.

“Too direct, Valor,” Lion rumbled. “You fight with instinct, but that alone is not enough. Think, feel.”

Valor exhaled and then rerouted. He faked to the right before pivoting low and aiming a sweeping kick at Lion’s legs.

Lion allowed the kick to connect, but he rolled with it, turning the fall into an easy somersault before snapping upright as if nothing had happened.

“A solid attack,” Lion admitted, eyes gleaming like orbs of fire in the sun. “But predictable. A tiger strikes when its foe doesn’t expect it, when they don’t see it coming.”

Valor’s heart pounded. This was only the beginning. He could already feel the challenge of the next several months, and he welcomed it.

And when he was done at the Order, he would make the director regret he ever turned him into what he was.