Wolf Teeth || Book I : Summer {M/M} ❄

Chapter #15

Oryen hurried off to the arena. The open amphitheatre was a humid oven. An obstacle course had been set—beams erected in hurdles, poles spaced evenly to be woven between.

They were all much too large for humans, and Oryen suddenly understood what Beau meant by 'Don't fall off.'

All his years as a Fen hadn't prepared him for the sight of so many wolves in one place. They sped through the course, kicking up dust, claws leaving deep trenches in the dirt. On their backs, keeping with their movements and holding onto their hackles, were their teammates.

Oryen's nerves spiked. It had never occurred to him that faylan was played with half the team in wolf form, and the other half riding on their backs. The riders were dwarfed. They had to keep low when their partner slid under beams or risk losing their heads. If they fell during a particularly high jump, it was a long way to the ground. Everywhere he looked, there were opportunities for concussions, broken bones or worse.

That did not unnerve Oryen as much as the riders' state of dress. Most had shed their shirts to combat the August heat. Not all of them, but most.

Lazro had warned him it might be dangerous, but he'd never imagined this.

Reyz stood at the edge, hands behind his back, observing the tryouts with a crooked smile. The smile broadened when he saw Oryen.

"Are you here to tryout?" he asked, excitement palpable.

"That's the idea," Oryen said.

"Would have thought you'd want to join the Storm Crows." Reyz gave him a quick, assessing look that was not nearly so acerbic as Beau's. "Not that I'm complaining. I've heard you're pretty strong for a newborn."

"Well, Kalysto's the captain, see," Oryen explained. "And she'd probably rather get a lobotomy than let me on the team."

"Ha! Yeah, that sounds like my Kaly. I won't complain if Lazro's bro wants to play for me. But we should see how you do, first. Oi, NEEV!" Reyz shouted. In response, one of the wolves—tawny brown with a dark dorsal stripe—peeled away from the course and came their way. Her rider, a sunburnt ginger bloke, dismounted, wiping sweat from his forehead. Neev seemed to be panting more from the heat than exertion.

"Sorry, Kilke, you're out," Reyz announced. The ginger squawked in protest but Reyz held up a hand to quell the argument. "Go trade a half pint for some aloe vera and get out of here." Then he turned to Neev. "We're going to show Oryen here the ropes. You can throw your shirt over here, Oryen."

"Uhh," Oryen hesitated, folding his arms over his chest like a modest maid. "I'm shy."

Reyz rolled his eyes. "Newborns. You'll be roasting, but suit yourself. We'll go over the rules of the game later. For now, ever ridden a horse?"

"No."

"Good. It's nothing like that. Now mount up."

Oryen looked dubiously at Neev, who stood six and a half feet at the shoulder. Reyz took a fistful of her hackles in his hand to demonstrate. "Grab as much fur as you can hang onto and jump. You'll have to get your chest up first. Then swing your leg over her ass."

Oryen privately thought, or she could lie down first. Taking a measured breath, Oryen buried a hand in the fur of Neev's nape. The sheer heat trapped within was stifling. It felt eerie, to be this near the sort of creature he'd seen viciously attack, maim, and kill fellow soldiers.

Taking a few mini hops, Oryen jumped up. It was not one smooth and continuous motion but an inefficient scramble, legs kicking. Neev stumbled a little with the force of his pull. Once astride her back, the world seemed very far away. Her body heat radiated through him. He was already sweating. Why didn't they do this in winter? She felt solid beneath him though, and from this vantage Oryen couldn't help but feel something nameless and exultant.