Page 83 of Green Ravens

The first few moments passed with a quiet appreciation of the meal. It was only after the first bites were taken and the initial hunger eased that the awkwardness in the room shifted into something peaceful.

When their plates were empty and stomachs full, Lion stood and commanded the room before he even began to speak.

“Masters, these men are unlike any who’ve ever graced our Order. They are more than flesh and bone. They are a rare breed. Beasts that are wild and untamed, yet majestic. Their blood, their very essence, is intertwined with that of great predators—Zorion, bound to the black hawk, and Valor, fused with the jungle puma.”

Zorion didn’t know if those were compliments or not, but the way the elders nodded, maybe they were.

“Zorion.” Lion gazed at him. “Phantom of the night skies, a swift death from above.”

Valor squeezed then caressed his leg beneath the table as if telling him he approved of the description.

“And Valor, the brave man most worthy. The unseen stalker and king of the hunt.”

Hushed murmurs were exchanged from man to man, the elders saying nothing but watching with calculating eyes, their fingers interlaced before them.

Valor, always direct, set his cup down and asked, “What will our lives be like here?”

Lion wiped his mouth with a linen cloth before he met their gazes. “Your lives will be unlike anything you could’ve imagined. Here, you will be unmade and remade anew. You will learn to walk unseen, to strike without warning, to understand the weight of a life before it is taken.”

Lion set his cutlery down after a measured pause. “You will endure pain, hunger, and exhaustion far beyond what an ordinary human could withstand. Your blood, your very nature, will be both your strength and your burden.”

Omega narrowed his storm-gray eyes, challenging and sinister. “The question is not what your lives will be, Valor, but if you are strong enough to truly embrace it.”

A hush fell over the table.

The words settled like stone, heavy and solid.

Zorion curled his fingers around Valor’s hand where it still rested on his thigh.

Since he’d woken in the Ravens facility, he’d doubted his purpose, his future. But here, in this age-old place, surrounded by men whose very breath whispered of honor and legend, he felt certain of what lay ahead.

Glory.

Chief Styles Sawyer

Zorion

“I know you have many questions, Zorion, but allow my masters to speak, please?” Lion asked before he tilted his head toward a man with white hair braided down his back and shaved on the sides. His hands were meticulously crossed, the backs littered with deep scars.

Master Shen Wei’s voice was low but firm. “You will be separated and trained independently. Your cherished love is strong, but your animals are natural enemies in the wild. When it comes to fighting styles, they are yin and yang. Just as Lion’s tiger complements Omega’s snake.”

“Jo explained that Lion and Omega have animal fighting styles.” Zorion frowned. “Which means…what exactly?”

“Animal styles were developed in the late eighteenth century by the Shaolin masters,” Master Rho, who seemed the eldest of them all, added in a shaky voice, his hands gnarled as if he’d had his fair share of battles as well. “The tiger, snake, panther, crane, scorpion, toad, and the centipede, in that order. And then there is the black tiger style, that only one man has ever possessed.”

“Alpha,” Jo whispered. “He istheBlack Tiger. He is the beginning.”

“It’s ordered that you train with Lion, Valor.” Grandmaster Rho stood and began to circle the table as he spoke. “His tiger style mimics the greatest felines. The style is direct, relentless,and fearless. It is built on strong stances, powerful attacks, and the ability to break through defenses. You will learn to unleash a barrage of devastating blows that’ll never give your enemy a chance to recover.”

“So I will be with Omega,” Zorion concluded.

Valor didn’t know how he felt about that, but he would have to put his trust in these masters. There were no other options.

“Yes,” Master Rho said. “I am his master. I trained Omega in his style because of his tendency to evade and shift conflict.”

Omega smirked.

“Eriktor is cunning.” Master Rho gave a low chuckle as if the lessons he and Omega shared had been entertaining. “So it suits him. There is no raptor style, Zorion, but your fight can best take on the characteristics of the snake style.”

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