Page 100 of Blood Fist

Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he realized the sun was setting. He’d been hiding out here, alone, for far too long.

Just as he expected, he caught sight of the red shield turning the corner. Brune smiled when he caught sight of him, his face lighting up under his smudged cheeks.

Ridan was never alone for long.

When he got closer, Ridan beckoned him, grabbing him by the chin so he could rub at his face. Brune laughed sheepishly.

“Derry had me helping with chopping wood and setting up the fires,” he explained, letting Ridan groom him.

“And you did it with your face?”

“Naw,” Brune drawled, holding up his messier hands. “Just couldn’t keep my mess to myself.”

Giving up, he released Brune. His fingers tingled, and he had to resist the urge to bring them to his nose to see if they picked up any of Brune’s earthy scent.

The big alpha squeezed onto the crate Ridan was sitting on, letting Ridan lean against him. It was strange—Ridan rarely even touched his pack, but it was as if after his heat he seemed to seek it out. Not even realizing it, he did things like try to clean Brune’s face or lean against him for warmth.

“You’ve been here a while,” Brune mused, keeping his tone light, even though Ridan knew he was curious.

Ridan thought about lying, but he was tired. He had been since his heat, catching only minutes of fitful sleep between his duties and trying to figure out Corric’s great magical adventure.

And deep down, even if he refused to admit it, he wanted to share his burdens with Brune.

“I don’t know what to make of Sinestrus waking,” he admitted, still staring at the spot the cat had long since vacated. “I don’t know what he meant by ‘finding’ Corric. Why Corric? What could he possibly mean to Sinestrus?”

Brunehummed. “Do you think that’s why his father sent us?” he watched the confusion color Ridan’s face before he continued. “Restrina thought Bargrave was coming for Corric because he was embarrassed he lost his omega. But what if the memory Corric saw of Cyrill was the real reason he sent Rappa? Because Sinestrus said he needed him.”

“What for? How could he possibly help when he has no magic?” Ridan scoffed.

“What if he does?”

Whipping around, Ridan glared at Brune. “Pretty sure he would know if he had magic.”

The big male just shrugged. “He didn’t think he could wield a sword. Or ride a horse until he was given the opportunity. Maybe?—”

Ridan groaned, throwing his hands up. “All we have areifsandmaybes.How can I fight that?”

Brune slung an arm around him, drawing him close enough he could look him in the eyes. This close, Ridan could see small scars that dotted along Brune’s face, and his dusky lashes. Even an old break in his nose that didn’t heal smoothly.

“You wait until they turn into certainties. Then you do what you’ve always done, Ridan. Whatever it takes to win.”

Brune’s smile was soft, but it was so earnest. So genuine. So full of belief, not just in the clan, but in Ridan. A misplaced sense that Ridan wasn’t quite sure what he did to earn, but knew he would never be able to live without. Not when that smile was like a balm to not just his aching head, but his soul. It, no Brune, wrapped around him and somehow soothed all the parts of him that hurt.

His smile grew as he slid off the crate. In the distance,the first fires were being lit, and Ridan could already hear his people begin to sing in celebration.

“Come on.” He extended a hand to Ridan. “I’m hungry. Let’s enjoy this feast.”

Grumbling, Ridan took his hand, nearly purring when their fingers closed around each other. “You’re always hungry.”

The night was nearly bright as day with the fires lit. Brune leaned back on the log he was resting on, nursing a mug of ale sweetened with fruit. It sparkled on his tongue as his eyes burned from the light. His hair reeked of smoke, and his voice was long gone from all the singing he’d joined in on.

Turns out, you don’t need to know the words to a song if you sing loud enough. He blamed Derry and his third cup of drink for that.

Despite the lateness of the hour, the revelry continued. Most of the clan were nursing bellies full of spiced meat and drink, eyes and throats burning as they gave up any notion of sleep.

Derry was half asleep, draped across Halm. She stroked his hair from his forehead as she spoke to Osmond and Niklas. What they spoke about was lost to crackling flames and jaunty laughter, but it looked lighthearted enough. Niklas was cradling a fast asleep Tia. The young girl had insisted she could stay up, only to pass out after eating her third bowl of sugared peaches. Hair tossed across her sticky face; her little snores made them laugh.

They were seated around one of the main fires. While there were dozens, this one was where most of the food and drink were located. Partly because it was inthe center of the clan, but also its proximity to their chief.