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)
Zelmir led the Browns to their location in the park, and the moment he dashed behind a thick bush, the five most skilled disciples of the Order Lion and Omega had left for them were there to rush him back to safety.
Zorion watched the Browns move cautiously into the wooded park, but not cautiously enough.
They were outsiders in this domain. Although light-footed, they were still intruders who disturbed the sacred rhythm of the forest.
Zorion could feel the vibrations of the Browns’ steps through the earth, their weight pressing into the layers of fallen pine needles.
Valor was positioned below to his left, silent as a predator.
Zorion tilted his head, picking up the micro-movements of the Browns.
He could see the slight contractions of their muscles, even the rise and fall of their breaths. They were waiting, expecting something, but so was he.
Grace led with his partner tucked close behind. He wore a chestnut leather trench which housed man weapons that would be unnoticed by an untrained eye. His counterpart, Mirage, wore a burnished copper-colored pullover with a lightweight hood that only left his smooth jaw visible.
They appeared skilled and alert, but Zorion felt no pause or fear.
“They’re cautious but confident,” Valor murmured.
“Let’s shatter that confidence, shall we.”
Zorion exhaled, lining up a shot.
He released his first arrow, which sliced through the air with a low whistle before it embedded itself in the soft ground inches from the toe of Grace’s boots.
First warning.
Three more followed in rapid succession, hitting the earth in a perfect line, forming a barricade of silent threat.
Before the arrows landed, Zorion was moving, his feet barely touching the branches as he repositioned to keep the Browns from locking onto him.
Their reaction was immediate.
Mirage produced two knives, the metal gleaming in the dim light, while Grace pulled out two big chrome handguns.
Predictable.
They relied on steel and gunpowder, force rather than finesse.
Zorion felt a pang of disappointment. From all of Jo’s hype, he’d expected more.
“That’s far enough,” Zorion called, letting his voice weave through the trees.
His words merged with the rustling leaves, making it impossible to pin down his location.
The Browns stiffened, their eyes scanning for targets that weren’t there.
Valor prowled along a lower branch, his eyes gleaming in the slivers of moonlight filtering through the dense canopy.
Zorion could almost feel Grace’s anger from where he stood, like a storm building pressure just before a crack of lightning.
Mirage murmured something against the back of Grace’s neck.
The Browns were unsettled, as if they’d realized how exposed they were.
“Show them your strengths, but do not engage hostilely,” Jo ordered in his ear.
Yeah, yeah.
“You will never hit us,” Zorion said, his voice as calm as his environment. “That weapon will only do unnecessary damage to a living tree. The entire forest is our shield, Brown Ravens, and its elements bend to our will. So you can remain civil or you can pick your burial spot.”
Grace tensed visibly, his rage simmering beneath a mask of stoicism.
Zorion knew men like him—fighters who despised being outmaneuvered. It made them unpredictable and reckless.
Valor made no sound as he dropped to the forest floor. He was already behind a different tree by the time Grace or Mirage looked his way.
“Sheath your weapons.”
A long pause. Then reluctance. First, Mirage’s knives disappeared, then Grace’s guns.
It wasn’t submission but calculation. The Browns listened but with suspicion.
Zorion narrowed his eyes as Grace pulled Mirage tighter against him.
Protective. Possessive, even.
There was something between them beyond duty. A weakness, perhaps.
“We sent for you because unity is inevitable for victory,” Valor started.
“We are not made to work together or as teams,” Mirage responded.
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be training with Ex and Meridian.”
Grace bristled with such barely restrained energy Zorion could feel it circulating through the earth. The man had yet to utter a word.
“Easy,” Jo whispered. “We need friends, not foes.”
“Unity requires trust,” Mirage called out.
“Agreed,” Valor answered, then moved at the same time the wind shifted southeast.
“Our first display of trust was showing you that Zelmir Benton is alive and well. He is with us of his own volition and has accepted our protection while this war rages between our country and the other superpowers of the world.”
The Browns looked as confused and oblivious as Lion said they were.
“The ones who feed us information from within the Ravens organization are your allies, Browns, not traitors. If it wasn’t for parts of your team watching your back, you would’ve already been led to your deaths.”
That statement made Grace’s dark brows lower.
“Your handlers remain uninformed and will continue to send you on missions dictated by a corrupt director unless you provide them the evidence you’ve discovered.” Zorion conveyed what Jo said in his earpiece. “We must break the wheel.”
“What are you proposing?” Mirage asked from his partner’s shadow.
“That the Blacks and the Browns join us. We know now that we shouldn’t be fighting against you. You’re more than worthy adversaries. It took the Omega and Lion to distract you enough for us to get Zelmir.”