Lazro continued to stare at Oryen with that open, vulnerable expression. Then his shoulders sagged and a breath of a laugh escaped him.
"Just like that?"
"Well, I'm not going to let some dudes off my brother, so... Yeah. Just like that. Don't know how much help I'll be, though. What do you need?"
"I need someone I can trust by my side," Lazro replied earnestly.
The word 'trust' made the tiny wound on Oryen's tattoo prick like an insect sting. He had to admit he wanted back the easy camaraderie of their youth, but how could they have it if he didn't tell Lazro about his history? For a moment, he considered it. Opening his mouth. Letting the confession 'I was a Fen,' fall between them. They could bury it here together. What would one more grave matter amongst a forest of them?
Looking at Lazro's face though, both recognizable and not, Oryen couldn't. There was far too much he didn't know, answers Lazro still withheld. How he'd been turned. How he came to be Alpha. How could they trust one another now, if not by baby steps and half-measures?
It would have to be enough.
"The other Alphas won't be popping open the champagne if I inherit your status," Oryen said. "You said so yourself. I'm an unproven runt, right?"
"True, they wouldn't be thrilled, but there are ways you could win them over."
"Like?"
Lazro turned and paced between two trees. He tapped his lower lip in thought. Before, shadows hung over his features, making his back bow under their weight. Now, some of his vibrance returned as he mulled over the question.
"Faylan tryouts are next week," he mused.
"Fa— Come again?"
"It's a werewolf sport," Lazro said. "Really popular. You're athletic. You'd be an asset to any team. It would be a great way to connect you with some of the other Alphas, and if you do well..."
Oryen scoffed. "Of course. Sport, a natural segue into politics. Why didn't I think of that?"
"They're not all that different, if you think about it," Lazro said with a sly smile. "Both involve rivalries and competition between the various teams and players. Everyone wants to root for the winner and slander the loser. People go nuts if a player switches sides. Sport is politics with less bloodshed."
"Wow, you're really selling me on this."
"It's a lot of fun." Lazro said with a laugh, slapping Oryen's shoulder. For a treacherous moment, Oryen felt his chest warm. "You'll see," Lazro continued. "The Fire Hawks and the Storm Crows both need new players. Reyz and Kalysto will be holding tryouts on Saturday and Sunday."
"The new husband and wife both captain rival teams?"
Lazro's smile sharpened. "Yeah. Makes things interesting, but it's doubly helpful for us. You'll get to know some of the other Alphas this way. They're far more likely to give you a spot at the table if they like you."
Remembering Kalysto's wedding, Oryen grimaced. She hadn't seemed to like anybody.
"Right." Oryen took a deep breath, shaking his head in disbelief. "Try out for werewolf sport. Ingratiate myself with the local powers that be. Help you avoid assassination, naturally." And navigate Beau's threats while keeping his identity a secret. "No big deal."
Lazro beamed. "You'll be brilliant."
Oryen returned to Kolraga by the barest sliver of sunlight along with the rest of the Kappas. He'd gone back to digging graves following his conversation with Lazro, head abuzz. Now, exhaustion and hunger dominated all, pushing out his worries about team tryouts, Beau, and the threats looming over he and his brother both.
YOU ARE READING
Wolf Teeth || Book I : Summer {M/M} ❄
Wilkołaki--On Hiatus-- Oryen is a Fen, a member of a military faction tasked with capturing and quarantining werewolves in the midst of a lycanthropy pandemic. Until the day he's bitten on the job, Oryen never understood the realities of life beyond quaranti...