A Warrior's Blade (Heat Strokes 3)

Kyros felt compelled to ask, "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

"Because it needs to be done."

It was an answer, and yet it answered nothing. "But why must you do it?"

"Because you will not."

Again, a response that didn't mean a thing. Kyros loved puzzles, but this one grated on his already frayed nerves. "Why should that matter to you?"

The young man stilled and pierced Kyros with a fiery gaze. "Why does the sun come up? Why do the stars not fall from the sky like rain? For some things, there are no real answers. As with this, it simply is what it is."

Kyros rolled onto his back as his visitor gave his blade a final polish with an oilskin cloth. He carefully returned it to the scabbard and propped it against the wall, well within Kyros' reach. An echo of his father's training came to mind. Never allow your blade to be out of your reach. It is your most loyal friend.

"What are you called?" Kyros asked, suddenly wanting to know more about this young man.

"You may know me as Phoenix."

The Phoenix… A legendary bird, forged out of fire. A solitary creature possessing great strength and healing powers. The name suited him… and yet it told only a very small part of his life's story, Kyros was sure. The story of a man who had been consumed by flames and risen from the ashes, while leaving out the source of what had burned him so badly. The story of a survivor. Like himself.

"And what will you do now that your work here is done?"

Phoenix studied him for a few seconds, and Kyros became acutely aware of how naked and vulnerable he was. His battle-hardened body had a network of scars stretching from his neck to his knees. His hair was matted by the detritus of war-making. He probably smelled like a battlefield too. And yet the young man's gaze lingered on him in a tangible caress, as if he approved of every inch of him.

"Who said I was done with you?" His fingers picked up where his eyes left off, on the cuts and bruises that marred the broad expanse of his chest. Kyros sucked in a ragged breath as those fingers softly traced the circumference of his nipple. "Time to see to your care, warrior."