get out of hand. You saw what Prax and his little group did the other day, didn’t you? That’s not who we are.”
Kladd bared his teeth in anger at the mention of one of the Atrox clan’s ‘less desirables’. He was clan, and as such, they were forced to tolerate him, but the man was a total asshole, and just the day before, he and his group of sycophants had used their powers to intimidate a human business owner into giving him what he wanted.
That was against the code.
If clan Atrox had a leader, that person would have stepped into the void and put a stop to Prax and his antics. But they didn’t. They hadn’t had one for over a year now, and the stress was starting to tear the clan apart.
The tournament had been initiated by a majority vote, at long last.
“I know what they’re like,” Kladd growled. “And I’ll put a stop to it.”
Rann grinned. “I think you mean I’ll put a stop to it.”
Both of them had entered the tournament. It was a competition of strength and guile, to determine who would become the next leader of the clan. Most of the other dragon clans had moved away from the practice they deemed ‘barbaric’ to a simple voting system, but Atrox hung on to the old ways.
So, they would fight.
Rann didn’t necessarily want to become the leader, but he loved his clan. He could not stand by and let it fall even further from grace. He simply did not have it in him to watch and do nothing. If it took him being the leader to save it, then he would shoulder that burden without complaint.
“It’s time,” Trent said from the doorway. “They’re ready.”
“Kick some ass,” Kladd said as he pushed past his friend.
Rann grunted. He didn’t want to kick anyone’s ass. Well, maybe Prax’s, but that was it. Since he didn’t have the pleasure of facing Prax today, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to the fight. This was no spar. This was a true fight, until surrender. Dragons had died in the tournament before, though Rann had no intention of killing any of his kin. That, to him, was not a sign of a good leader.
If I’m going to lead this group, I need to be able to do so without them being scared of me. I need them to respect me.
He entered the sparring chamber, an oblong, open-ceiling room lined with smooth, padded mats on nearly every surface, and regarded his opponent.
Fel was half a decade younger than him. A little brash around the edges, but overall a good head on his shoulders. The storm dragon would want to come out swinging, Rann decided.
He’ll want to end things quickly, hoping to overpower me.
A rustle went through the crowd that had gathered above. Usually, there was rock above the sparring room, but for the tournament, a pair of earth dragons had reshaped it, pulling it back into an arena-like setting where other dragons could stand above and watch the fights.
Rann hated it. This wasn’t for show, wasn’t for entertainment. At least, it shouldn’t be. But to some, it was.
He ignored those sitting above him, including Prax and his ilk, and strode across the floor to Fel, extending his hand.
“Good fight,” he rumbled.
Fel frowned but took the hand and shook it. “Good fight,” he said in return.
They retreated to their own corners. There were no referees, no judges. They would fight until one of them could fight no longer. It was based on the honor system. After all, to be a good leader, it was thought that one should be honorable as well as strong.
Rann tilted his head and took a step forward, indicating to his opponent he was ready to go. Fel returned the look, and they both prepared to fight. Rann strode forward, ready to meet in the center. To his surprise, Fel came at him warily, an intensity in his eyes.
That wasn’t the opening Rann had expected from the younger shifter. Clearly, the man was expecting trickery and deceit, not an honest, standup fight.
Well, I wonder if he would consider an honest, standup attack to be trickery then?
Rann shrugged mentally and closed the gap cautiously. Then, he attacked. Not with a testing jab or a blast of fire. He just kept walking right at Fel, swinging hard and with blinding speed.
The all-out attack caught the younger shifter by surprise, and Rann quickly pushed him back across the room. Above him, the crowd muttered