Nix
“You’re not protecting your neck!” Bastian growled as Orsen scrambled to his feet after a nasty swipe.
“Can you blame me? You were aiming for my dick!” he shouted back, brushing the dirt off his sweatpants.
We had been training all morning. By we, I meant Orsen, with the help of Bastian, of course. But he needed to be ready for a fight with Byron, and we all knew that, despite the dragon’s age, he wouldn’t make it easy.
“You need to focus!” Bastian was being rather… intense. He grabbed Orsen’s shirt, preparing to swing at him again.
“What’s the point of this?” Orsen growled, shoving him away. “We’ll be fighting in dragon form. There’s no way Byron would want to stay in his squishy human form.”
“You will be,” Samuel agreed from the side where he was watching, arms crossed. As he was a skilled fighter, he had graciously agreed to leave his mate and babies for a few hours to help us prepare for the challenge.
And by we, I still meant Orsen.
All the rest of us could do was be willing punching bags and cheer him on, in a manner of speaking.
“I need a break,” Orsen grunted, storming off to the side of the clearing where we had a cooler filled with snacks and drinks.
He’d been hitting it hard for several hours now. With Bastian needling him the entire time, I was surprised the guy hadn’t shifted and scorched his ass. Lord knew the two of them had a temper. Still, I had a feeling Bastian was worried. That was why he’d been a particular delight this morning.
We all circled around the cooler, Bastian dragging his feet, and passed around drinks. It was hot and muggy, and that was adding to the reasons to be cranky. Standing in silence for a moment, we all just stared into the distance. The looming reality in front of us wasn’t backing off.
Orsen looked around, swallowing before speaking. “I know we don’t want to discuss negative outcomes…”
“And we won’t,” Greylen frowned, tossing him a bottle of water.
Narrowing his eyes, Orsen didn’t relent. “We need to. If something happens to me, then North Oak will be compromised.”
“We won’t allow that to happen,” I said, clapping a hand down on his shoulder.
I meant it. If we lost North Oak and Birch Creek tried to take over, we would put up one hell of a fight. Birch Creek was smaller, and we had more fighters. We also had a hell of a reason to make sure we won.
Shaking his head, Orsen sat on the ground. His entire posture slumped like he had the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.
He did, in a way. The future of our horde was on him.
“It’s bullshit. We should be fighting together,” Bastian growled. “That’s the whole point of a clan; we lead the horde together. We protect the horde together.”
I sighed, tilting my head back like I was trying to soak up some of the sunrays, though in reality, I was just trying to avoid my clanmates’ eyes.
“If that was the case, we would be dominating packs left, right, and center. Four-member Alpha clans are rare. If we were allowed to challenge together, we would be unstoppable.”
Grey smirked, wiping some of the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his T-shirt. “If that was the case, we could squash assholes like Byron like the pathetic little bugs they are.”
Orsen chuckled. “If only.”
When I glanced down at Orsen, he met my eyes with a nod, offering a little smirk. None of us wanted anything to happen to the guy or the horde. We’d finally started acting like proper Alphas again, and it would be devastating to lose everything now.
We couldn’t let it happen. Hence, the training.
“In all seriousness, though. If it goes wrong—and I’m not saying it will—I plan to fight like hell to protect our home. I want you guys to grab Rowan and run. Keep her safe. Most of the horde will be okay while we regroup, but we all know that Byron has a vendetta against Rowan.”
Somehow, word had gotten back to Byron that it was Rowan who had insisted on keeping Allison in North Oak. Given how much he wanted his daughter back, which still didn’t make tons of sense since he was the one to kick her out in the first place, a lot of his anger was directed towards our mate.
It was a fucking joke. The idiot couldn’t see that he was the problem. He, Jenkins, and Cyrus had no doubt fed off each other like a narcissistic pity party.
“You think we should leave?” Grey asked gently.
Orsen nodded, expression straight as an arrow. “If it comes to that. Get Rowan somewhere safe—”
“Luca has already assured me that Rowan, and whoever goes with her, are welcome in Three Ridges. It’s nearby and easy to get to.”
We all nodded gratefully at Samuel. A backup plan was always a smart move, even if you were feeling confident about your success.
“Good. That’s good,” Orsen said. “Take Rowan and keep her safe. I need you guys to promise me. I can’t fight to the best of my ability if I’m worried about her.”
He was glossing over the fact that if we, indeed, had to do that, he would be dead. I had a feeling he knew that. Orsen was saying, if the fight turned against him, to get gone fast. He’d do his best to hold off Byron, but…
“She won’t go easily.” I grimaced, shaking my head.
“We’ll make her,” Bastian countered solidly. “We won’t take no for an answer; we all know she’s going to insist on being there.” He turned to Orsen. “I swear to you. I won’t let our mate be hurt again.”
Orsen stood up and walked over to Bastian, putting his hands on the guy’s shoulders.
“I know you won’t. I trust you.”
A silent nod was exchanged, and that was as good as gold when it came to an agreement between the two of them.
Orsen headed into the middle of the clearing. “Okay, this time we’re practicing in scales.” As he spoke, his skin rippled, iridescent scales appearing on his neck as his body morphed and changed smoothly into his dragon form, clothes shucked off and left in a pile.
“Nix, you fight him this time,” Samuel instructed. He wasn’t going to shift; he was going to watch us spar and tell Orsen how he could do better. And it was smart to take any help he could get, including observations from a skilled fighter.
I slid into dragon form with ease, my vision going from bright color to everything having a slight golden haze.
This clearing is far too small for two dragons.
As the thought entered my brain, Orsen launched forward and proceeded to hurl me into the trees, knocking several of them over with a loud crack and deep thud. I stood up, digging my claws into the ground as I growled at Orsen. Another tree slowly tipped as the gash in its trunk finally gave way.
Hopefully, there would be some forest left by the time we finished.