Page 13 of Aryn

“What?” Bash hisses beside me. Heads whip around to stare, and Ego openly gawks.

I force a swallow and slide a confident smirk into place. “You’re looking for a fighter? You’ve fucking found one. I’ve been in the business a long time.”

“Cato, what the fuck are you doing?” Sakane asks, leaning over Ego to punch my biceps.

“Worried about me, babycakes?” I ask with a wink.

Sakane doesn’t buy the distraction. “This is reckless.”

“More reckless than standing around waiting for the world to burn with us in it?” I counter. “No thanks. Hard pass on a front-row seat to the apocalypse.”

“It’s… not a bad idea,” Ronan says slowly, glancing at Cameron as Lillith nods in agreement.

“Yes, it is a bad idea,” Sakane argues. “It’s a very bad idea.”

Aryn blinks at me, head tilted like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You can fight?”

“Of course I can fight,” I snap. “I might not have fancy tails or shiny teeth, but I could take any one of you down.”

“Unlikely,” Elas snorts from across the circle.

“Says the guy who just got his ass handed to him by a monster half his size,” I retort. Elas glares but can’t deny it. I turn back to Aryn, expecting to find him gloating over his win. Instead, he’s still watching me with that irritatingly thoughtful expression.

“Do you have a problem with that?” I challenge.

His eyes flick down my frame before he settles back, arms crossed. “No problem.”

“Are you going to be a wildcard, human?” Ronan demands.

“Always,” I snap back with a sharp smile. “But I’m a wildcard you’ll be happy to have watching your six.”

Aryn

“Watch your left!” Ronan bellows from where he leans over the railing around the training pit. “Oh, for fuck’s… your other left!”

“You aren’t helping,” Cameron wheezes as he barely dodges Elas’s practice sword. “I already banned you from training me, and if you aren’t… careful—” He ducks another swing and grunts when the edge of the wooden blade clips his shoulder. After a few quick steps backward, he points his sword at his mate. “If you don’t stop being a pain in my ass, I’ll ban you from the training ring altogether.”

Footsteps thunder across the dirt, and Cameron’s eyes go wide behind his glasses as Elas charges. Ronan lets out a low, throaty growl when Elas corners Cameron and presses the blade to his neck.

“This is useless,” Ronan snaps, pushing off the fence and flinging his arms. “Two weeks. Two fucking weeks is all that golden ass gave us to prepare.”

“It’s only been a day, Ronan,” I say gently. “Cameron will improve with time. You just need to be patient.”

“Patient,” Ronan mutters. “What I need is to take him into the woods and hide him until this ridiculous plan is over. He can’t even see without those damned glasses. Might as well be guarding a blind baby bird.”

“I can hear you,” Cameron gripes from the ring. “Go somewhere else, Ro.”

Ronan’s face falls. “But—”

“No buts!” Cameron shouts, turning to glare fully at him. “You aren’t helping right now!” I bite back a smile at the way Ronan pouts, and Cameron’s eyes swing to me in a clear plea for help.

“Why don’t we work off some of that tension, Ronan?” I offer, giving Cameron a tiny wink. “It wouldn’t hurt either of us to drill some hand-to-hand, and it looks like you could use the stress relief.”

Ronan’s dark brown eyes linger on Cameron for a long beat before he nods and lets me lead him toward the clearing closer to the trees. Bash and Xeni are curled up under one of the larger ones, with one of my research journals open between them. Bash is genuinely studying, but Xeni is busy kissing along his neck and grinning at the little shivers he pulls out of him.

A small smile tugs at my lips. For years, I resented Xeni for what he’d done—hated him for sending away one of my only friends. I couldn’t understand how someone could do that to their mate and willingly live with that kind of emptiness. I was around the bond long enough to know the physical pain both of them would have suffered while they were apart, but Xeni refused to talk about it.

They were both changed by that time away. Bash is harder now, though the softness still lives inside him. He’s more cautious with others, and far less trusting. I see it in the way his instincts have shifted—how surprise now makes him want to fight instead of run. I can’t help but wonder how much of that comes from the company he kept while he was in the city.