Chosen by the Beasts, Claimed by the Dragon-Chapter 14: Open bracket

— ZORYN —

Oddly enough, I think fewer people are staring at me today than there were before. I guess whatever Ren did last night helped a lot more than I thought.

Nice.

As I’m making my way to the arena, I spot Roan in the crowd at one of the food stalls.

"Roan!" I call, giving him a big wave when he turns to look.

"Zor!" Roan’s lips part into a huge grin. "I was just getting us some snacks. Frog-tongue kebab sound good for our first breakfast?"

My mouth starts watering the moment he suggests it. I give him an exaggerated look of adoration, pretending to tear up because I’m so touched. "Roan... you know the way to my heart."

The tips of Roan’s ears turn a little pink, and I can tell he’s flustered, but plays it off. He taps his chest a few times and winks, "Of course. You’re my partner in crime, after all. No one knows you better than me."

I approach him lazily and wait for the stallkeeper to finish grilling the kebabs. Once they’re finished, Roan pays him a few copper coins and turns to me.

"Ready, champ?" He asks, extending one of the skewers to me.

I take it without hesitation and grab a bite of it. "Born ready. Let’s go watch some wimps get pummeled."

Roan chuckles and gives me a small salute, "Lead the way."

It’s a bit of a walk from here, and we aren’t allowed to shift (or even a partial shift) when not in the arena because it increases the potential for violence, so we have to hoof it the old-fashioned way.

"Orien seems like a super sweet guy," Roan says after a few minutes of travel. "Smart too."

I nod in agreement, indulging in another bite. "Yeah. I like that one. It’s too bad all the avian clans are so far from our tribe."

"Guess we’ll just have to hang out with him as much as we can before going home, then," Roan says resolutely. "Do you think he’s up this early? We could invite him to come watch the open bracket with us."

I hum in contemplation, "I dunno. Maybe we should wait until later. He seemed pretty tired last night, and I’d hate to bother him too early. Seems like the kinda guy who needs his sleep, y’know?"

Roan nods, "Yeah, that makes sense. Maybe we can catch him later during the break."

We continue our walk in companionable conversation, the familiarity of it all making me feel more and more relieved despite my freak ass situation.

"Hey, guys."

...

Alright, no longer relieved.

Ashen greets us as we approach the entrance to the arena, and it takes everything in me not to tell him to fuck off on sight—but something about him is a little different today.

"What’s good, man?" Roan asks, being the friendly bear he is.

Ashen glances at me awkwardly, but returns his gaze to Roan, "I was... um, waiting for someone. You guys are gonna watch some of the open bracket matches, too?"

"Obviously," I shrug. "I almost won in the finals last Moonfall. I love this shit."

"Right," Ashen nods. "I didn’t get to attend the last one. I had to attend to things in the pack while everyone was away. I wish I could have seen it."

Oh, right, he has a higher position in his pack. I already forgot. Looking at him today, he’s pissing me off a lot less—it sorta feels like he’s actively trying not to be annoying.

"Don’t worry, I’ll give you a show you won’t forget," I smirk. "Anyway, we should hurry in. Who are you waiting for? You’ll be late if they take much longer."

Ashen looks at me with wide eyes, and his lips part and close a few times, but no words come out. Eventually, he starts and trails off, "Uh, I’m waiting for..."

I raise a curious brow. Was he lying?

"A group of early risers, eh? How interesting," comes a voice from behind us. I glance back to see Riven, whose long hair is freshly braided with gold adornments.

"Him! I was waiting for Riven," Ashen clears his throat.

Riven stops when he gets close to us, "Waiting for me? The hell are you—"

Ashen cuts him off and wraps his arm around Riven’s shoulders, "I wanted to watch the open bracket with you, of course."

Riven tries to remove Ashen’s arm from around him, but the wolf won’t budge, "Wh—"

I can tell Riven would break his arm right now if it weren’t against the rules—and I’m sure the elders are already on edge after my altercation yesterday, so it’s a bad time to cause a problem.

Ashen tightens his arm around Riven’s shoulders like he’s afraid the lion might bolt.

Riven stares at him in disbelief. "Are you sick or something?"

"What? No," Ashen replies quickly. "Can’t I want to spend time with you?"

"No, you can’t," the lion answers flatly. "You’ve spent the last five years telling me my mane looks stupid."

"And it still does," Ashen snaps back on reflex—then visibly winces. "I mean— not stupid. Distinct. Very... lion."

Roan coughs into his hand to hide a laugh.

I snort openly. "Wow. That was painful to watch."

Ashen shoots me a look, then sighs, finally loosening his grip. "Look, I just thought... it’d be better if we all went in together."

Riven squints at him. "Better how?"

Ashen opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. "Less... weird."

Roan tilts his head. "You do realize you made it way weirder, right?" 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"I’m aware," Ashen mutters.

I study him for a second. He really is trying. I’m not sure what exactly he’s trying to do, but the effort is definitely there. It’s almost... endearing.

Almost.

"Well," I say, clapping my hands together once, "this is thrilling, but if we don’t move, we’re going to miss the first bout—and I refuse to miss someone getting bodied because you two are having a moment."

Riven snickers. "She’s got a point."

Ashen exhales through his nose. "Fine. Truce. For now."

"For now," Riven echoes, smirking. "But don’t touch me again."

"No promises," Ashen says automatically.

I point at him. "You touch him again and I punch you again."

Roan nods solemnly. "We’ll make it a tradition."

Ashen grimaces. "Noted."

That seems to settle it.

We finally move forward, joining the steady stream of warriors and spectators flowing into the arena. The air changes as soon as we step inside—thick with anticipation, magic, and the metallic tang of old stone warmed by countless battles.

The stands are already filling. The open bracket fighters are warming up in the sand below, their muscles flexing and their claws tapping against the ground.

My blood starts to sing.

Riven notices immediately. "You get that look every time," he says, eyes flicking to me. "Like you’re itching to jump in."

I grin around my skewer. "That’s because I am."

Ashen glances between us. "You really almost won last time?"

"Second place," Roan corrects. "Lost by a technicality."

"A bullshit one," I add. Yeah, I’m still bitter about it, even if the guy I fought was cool as hell.

Riven chuckles. "I would’ve liked to see that."

"Make it to the finals and fight me, then you’ll get to see it first-hand, catboy," I promise with a grin.

Something sharp and pleased flickers behind his eyes, but he’s obviously irked that I called him catboy. I kinda dig the look in his eyes, actually... wait, no.

I don’t. That’s weird.

I think I’m going to stop making eye contact with people for the day. I don’t need weird thoughts like this.

Ashen, meanwhile, goes quiet again—but it’s not the awkward kind this time. It’s the focused kind—the kind of man watching someone reassess his world in real time.

We take our seats, and the drums begin to beat again—faster now, stirring the adrenaline in my veins. For the first time since yesterday, I don’t feel like the oddity in the room.

I feel like a contender.