Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Valor almost rolled his eyes. He’d heard of Meridan’s over-the-top, extravagant taste. From his hair products to his jet-black Armani suit to his Gucci shoes.
For fuck’s sake.
The first drag was long and intimate, as if being savored.
The scent of sweet cloves wove through the air like incense from Ares’s temple.
“Any time now, lover,” Ex interrupted the theatrical scene.
“I’ve killed more people than I’ve spoken to,” he said, voice gravelly and low. “Some for duty. Some for mere pleasure. Some because I wanted to see what happened when I stopped pretending I had a soul.”
Another drag, another drawn-out exhale.
“You say we have voices now. That we’re permitted lives and homes. That we’ll serve something worthy of glory and honor.” Meridian’s smile wasn’t of appreciation…but intimidation. “I’ll guard your vision, Jo.”
He inched closer, his presence like a storm cloud closing in.
Nobody moved.
“But if this turns into another Ravens…” His smile deepened into something scarier. “I’ll tear this place apart from the inside out…starting with you. And as you beg for death like John Ross did…I’ll enjoy every fuckin’ second of it.”
Holy shit.
He walked back to Ex’s side—the scent of sweet spices following him—and the two left, a plume of smoke trailing Meridian like the ghost of death was his best friend.
Jo didn’t seem fazed.
Corvo stood. “He’s all talk and threats. Trust me, guys. His bark is far worse than his bite.”
“I don’t think our departed director would agree.” Spector chuckled.
Jo stared at him and Zorion.
“Valor, the two of you will lead the team when it’s time to go after the Whites. You saw them in action. You understand them best.”
Valor nodded. “We’ll bring them back.”
Zorion added, “If they let us.”
Valor’s gaze drifted toward the back of the facility.
Meridian stood near the door. Smoke hovering around his lips and cloaking the part of his face still visible beneath his hood.
No cohesive thoughts came to Valor’s mind when he stared at him…only words.
Vicious. Poisoned. Lethal. Beautiful. Righteous.
Valor was damn near tempted to ask him for one of those fucking cigarettes.
Chief Styles Sawyer
Zorion
He and Valor were in their locker room packing a duffel bag of clothes their wardrobe team had put together, preparing to leave for their proffered hiatus.
“You sure you don’t wanna go back to the cabin?” Valor asked for the third time.
“I’m sure.” Zorion nodded. “I’d prefer to go back to the Order. We should stay up on our training.”
“The meaning of downtime is to relax.” Valor sighed. “I don’t know what kinda training you and Omega did, but Lion kicked my ass on a daily basis.”
Zorion laughed. “And look who you are.”
“Well, I admit, I can’t complain.”
Zorion wrapped his arms around Valor’s neck and kissed his cheek, working his way to his mouth.
“How about we go to the Order for a few days? Then we can ask Jo if we can stay at that cabin and make it our home?”
The excitement in his cherished’s eyes was everything.
“Fuck yeah.” Valor smiled. “You think she’ll say yes?”
“I’m pretty sure she will.” Zorion shrugged. “Since I already asked her, and she agreed.”
Valor picked him up and kissed the hell out of him.
When he was put down Zorion was gasping for breath.
“Damn, I fuckin’ love you.” Valor beamed.
As Zorion started, Valor’s smile began to fade.
“What?”
“That’s the first time you’ve said you love me.”
Valor’s eyes blazed a brilliant hazel before he gripped the back of Zorion’s neck. He pulled him in until his lips met his. It was a tentative taste before it grew bolder, their tongues tangling with desperate tenderness.
Valor traced the scars along his cheek, his touch aching with emotion.
“I love you too,” Zorion whispered against Valor’s mouth.
They were almost to the garage, where a car waited to take them to the cabin…to their home. The next day, they’d fly back to the Order.
“Masters, wait.” Lion’s lead disciple—now dressed in dark linen karategi pants and a black silk jacket with a lion embroidered in gold buttoned up to his neck—rushed toward them with a bulging folder case.
He gave a slight bow before he began to speak.
“I was able to recover this from the records room at the facility before we got the scientists out.”
Valor accepted the clasped holder. “What is it?”
“It’s your past, Masters. Before you were taken by the Ravens. I thought maybe you’d want it.” The disciple lowered his eyes. “Forgive me if I’ve overstepped.”
A lump lodged in Zorion’s throat.
“What do you mean our past?” Valor frowned.
“They must’ve researched you while you underwent the experiments. There’s documents, photos, and a thumb drive.”
The disciple didn’t wait for them to respond before he gave another respectful bow and then hurried away.
Zorion gulped down the pained knot. “Do we open it?”
Valor shook his head. “Not here, not right now. Come on. Let’s go home.”
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.