Prideful Savage (A Warrior's Redemption #1) - Miranda Bridges Page 0,3

shaman and turn to Ezarith. Although I met him aboard the AoS, I know him well enough to deduce he harbors the same disbelief taking root inside me. It’s in the way he drags his brows together in a scowl and shakes his head slowly. As wise as the shaman is, there is no sense to be found in his words.

We have failed to locate a cure on this planet, and now we need to move on to our next destination before our timers go off and we need to check in with Commander Leoric. Freedom matters more to me than mere superstition.

“While my brothers and I are thankful for your help, Master Irik, we must return to our ship.” I locate my belongings beside Tyrez’s and stand to retrieve them. Shrugging on the coat, the material brushing the backs of my knees, I say, “Whatever fate awaits us will be ours to meet when and if the moment should arise.”

For a moment, the shaman simply stares upward as though studying the patchwork on the ceiling. “And so it will be. I shall escort you back as agreed. However, I implore that you heed my warning before it is too late. I speak no words of deceit and simply wish to help.”

“Why? We’ve already paid you for guiding us to the lake,” Ezarith demands, lifting his chin. “What does a shaman have to gain should we or should we not perish?”

“A clear conscience.” Master Irik rises and collects another bowl from the fire. He then approaches Tyrez and kneels at his side, his body turned at an angle. “It is simply my duty to make you aware of your fate even if you choose not to belie—”

In one powerfully swift move, Tyrez kicks his blanket off and lunges.

The shaman’s bowl clatters to the ground as Tyrez grabs him by the throat and squeezes.

Even in the dim firelight, the warrior’s face is blazoned and unhinged with a fury I’ve never seen before. Tendrils of smoke seep from his heaving body and crimson, orange flames embellish his skin as his beast within prepares to surface.

“It was you! You fucking did this!”

He pushes the shaman into the side of the dwelling, and together they tear and tumble through the fabric.

“What the fuck is he doing?” I charge after them before I can receive an answer to my question.

This is the last thing we need, but by fuck, does Tyrez like to test my patience.

My brothers stand in astonishment outside as Tyrez tackles the shaman to the ground. He pummels his fist into the male’s face in rapid succession. Bones break and crunch; blood splutters through broken teeth. Disgust heaves my stomach. There is no honor in this fight, just a lust for blood from an unmatched and unarmed opponent.

“Tyrez, stand down!”

The warrior ignores Kalach and continues beating the shaman. The sound of the poor creature’s unjust suffering has me rushing forward and grabbing Tyrez by the shoulder. His fist hangs in the air, and he snaps his head to me. Never before have I seen eyes so molten, so fueled with anger. The flames that burn in his gaze spread through his body. His skin darkens and cracks, streaked with fire that spreads over him like spectral fingers. Claws extend from his hands, and his body grows incredibly in size.

With a swipe of his enormous clawed hand, I’m thrown spiraling into the air. I crash through the roof of a strawed hut and land on a soft surface. Dust and straw settle around me, giving way to a terrified female native and a youngling cowering behind her.

“Pardon my intrusion,” I say, scrambling to my feet.

I raise my gun and hurry out of the door, nearly pulling it off the hinges. However, I stop short at the sight of Tyrez, in his full beast form, fighting my brothers.

His brothers.

He growls and swipes at them with his tail. The fiery appendage cracks like a bullwhip as he uses it to restrain the others from saving the shaman. But by the way Tyrez rips through the male’s body and devours him, I deduce my efforts to intervene are no longer necessary. Even the terrified natives are not trying to step in anymore.

What is he thinking? The warrior has gone completely crazy!

He is a fool to shift at such a moment. Now he’ll be weakened, if not incapacitated, until he eventually regains his strength. At best, he’ll be out for a couple of hours. At worse, a