Page 63

Chief Aiken Oakley

Valor

The cliffside clearing on the outskirts of the Order’s island welcomed them back as if it were a family member who’d been waiting for their return.

The last of the sunlight spilled over the ocean, bathing the flow of the waterfall in a haze of honey.

The jungle behind them whispered in low, living tones, soothing the anxiousness in his chest.

Valor got their fire roaring while Zorion spread a wide blanket on the grass and unpacked the fruit and cider from their satchels.

He was staring at the flames when Zorion called to him.

“Come ’ere,” he whispered.

Valor knelt and reclined against Zorion’s chest.

After a long moment, he took the thick folder and laid it across his lap. His hands hovered over the clasp.

It felt like opening it would split their world into two parts. Before and after. Part of him didn’t want to look back.

The call of Zorion’s eagle gave them a few extra seconds of delay.

Zorion held his arm out as the massive raptor dove and landed with flair on his forearm. It squawked and flapped its wings as if pissed that Zorion had taken so long to return.

“I missed you too, buddy.” Zorion smiled, brushing the back of his hand over its chest.

When it was satisfied with Zorion’s attention, it lurched off his arm, flew toward a nearby branch, and settled in.

It was as if their animals knew of their inner turmoil and could sense their stress.

Neptune inched closer until he was on the blanket and leaning into his side, purring with her heavy head pressed against Valor’s thigh.

“We don’t have to do this now,” Zorion whispered against his temple. “Or ever.”

Valor exhaled. “We came this far. We might as well know.”

He opened the file.

Inside was a haphazard stack of photographs and papers, so much physical proof of the lives they’d once lived.

The first stack was of Zorion…no, Sawyer, maybe twenty years old in a crisp uniform, donning the same stern expression all sailors wore for their military photo.

He looked so young and determined, his eyes gleaming with the promise of the journeys and excitement to come.

Valor traced the edge of the photo with one finger and glanced back at Zorion.

There was no flicker of recognition or memories in his sad eyes.

They flipped through every picture of their apparent distinguished careers.

Them during training camps, receiving metals, documented promotions. Shots of both of them in combat gear, posing with their respective crews. Valor stared at Zorion, in blue-and-gray Navy fatigues, standing on the deck of a matte black combat boat that resembled something from an action movie. It had to be at least seventy feet long, its body sharp and angular, built for speed, with multiple mounted machine guns and grenade launchers.

Zorion sat on the platform of the stern with another guy, their fatigues rolled up to their knees and feet dangling in the water. They were laughing, with their arms thrown over each other’s shoulders.

Valor hoped the stranger was a good friend of his…not a lover.

Across the back of the boat was the name… Neptune .

“Holy shit,” Valor gasped, sitting up taller.

He glanced down at the sleeping Persian leopard at his side and stroked the top of her head.

Neptune.

“So that’s where you got her name.” Zorion hugged him tight from behind.

Valor saw images of himself with his crew on his own warcraft, but unfortunately, he didn’t recognize a single face. There was a document with all the names of the sailors assigned to his command, but he couldn’t match their faces.

He had no doubt they were strong, capable, glorious men he’d once been honored to serve with.

And he didn’t remember a single one.

Those men had to be important to him. Some were probably his best friends.

Dammit!

A stab of anger shot through him.

Neptune stirred, her purring growing louder as she lifted her head and rested it on his thigh.

“I’m all right, girl,” he whispered. “I’m all right.”

Zorion gazed at a photo of him at the helm of the Chariot .

“You look so strong and commanding, Val.” Zorion moaned. “And we need to get you some of those aviator shades like yesterday. Fuck, you look sexy wearing those.”

Valor pfft’d, but he admitted he did look like a boss.

“There are no images of us together.” Valor frowned.

“Maybe we didn’t know each other back then.”

There wasn’t much on their lives before the military: spouses, children, or living relatives, but it did say Valor came from a long line of men who’d served in the Army. All were killed in combat, except his father.

“Maybe we can find him,” Zorion said. “I’m sure Glitch can.”

Valor sighed, thinking for a moment before he shook his head slowly.

“The son he knew is gone.”

“Val.” Zorion gripped his chin, turned his head, and placed a gentle kiss on his mouth. “Are you sure?”

Valor nodded, then turned to another photo. Each one was a memory neither of them could touch.

And they were okay with that.

Zorion homed in on a grainy picture of them side by side at a bar.

A jukebox was visible in the background, half-empty bottles on the bar. But what made Valor freeze was the expression on Zorion’s face.

He was looking at him—just looking—with something raw and full of heat.

“I have a feeling this might be when we first met.” Valor pointed at the date and time stamp at the top of the photo. “It’s the day before the failed mission.”

Zorion leaned in and murmured against Valor’s earlobe. “I’m looking at you like I want to eat you.”

Valor chuckled. “And I look terrified.”

After a much-needed laugh, they flipped through the rest in silence.

They set the pictures down and Zorion pulled out the tablet. The only digital piece of their lives caught by a drone from their last mission.

He inserted the disk and let it load.

The screen flashed to life with a high-pitched crackle of recorded airspace. Then it dropped into the feed.

Two military vessels slicing through choppy waves—the Chariot and the Neptune —maneuvering in unison.

Missiles launched and gunfire erupting from all sides lit up the dank river like fireworks.

The Neptune was struck first.

Valor felt Zorion’s heart pounding against his back.

An explosion rose high in the sky as the blast somersaulted bodies into the water.

Valor watched as his past self dove in without hesitation, swimming hard, racing for Zorion as bullets continued to pierce the surface and flames roared around them.

Valor went still. “Your burns,” he whispered.

The drone trembled as if trying to stabilize.

There were about ten seconds of footage of him dragging Zorion’s charred body away before the drone appeared to take a direct hit and the feed cut to static.

Then darkness.

Valor set the tablet down and waited, but still, no memories returned.

Maybe he’d have flashes here and there over time, but Oakley and Sawyer were gone, dead in that river with their comrades, and Zorion and Valor were reborn in the fire.

He realized after a moment that he felt no sorrow or regret for where he was right then.

In the arms of his cherished.

“You saved me,” Zorion said with awe in his voice.

Chief Styles Sawyer

Zorion

The world faded into night as he lay naked with Valor’s heavy body resting sated on top of him.

They rejoiced in the now. The universe had determined they were always to end up together.

Beside them was a single photograph. The rest they’d burned in the fire that was now ashes.

Valor shifted and touched the photograph of Zorion staring at him in that bar.

“I didn’t know you when I looked at you like that,” he said softly. “But I already knew who you were to me. The man of bravery and most worthy. My cherished protector.”

Valor met his gaze and Zorion ran his thumb along his jaw as he stared into brilliant hazel eyes that reflected the beauty of the moon’s light.

“You are the one I was meant to obey, honor, and trust to guide me through this life…forever. To fight beside until the day I fall.”

The Ravens had stripped them of their names, erased their history, and rewired their DNA. But they couldn’t kill what was never artificial.

What was saved in the fire and would forever burn.

They were fiercer, freer, survivors, unbreakable lovers.

They didn’t have a boat crew to fight with, but they sure as fuck had a lethal ungovernable army that didn’t miss.

The world had new guardians who stalked in the darkest corners.

Ex, Meridian, Grace, Mirage, Valor, and Zorion—an unholy, fury-forged brotherhood ready to take the world by storm.

The End…for now.