Page 103 of Blood Fist

“Congratulations,” he said earnestly, smiling down at a blushing Jonen.

“Well, I should really thank you. What you said made me realize how foolish I was being.”

Brune punched Jonen on the shoulder. “I knew it would all work out. Look how happy Corric is.”

They turned to see the grinning omega. It was rare to see such a bashful expression on the normally stoic man. Derry was hanging off him while Oosa and Smithe yelled over the din. Whatever was being said, he was nodding eagerly.

“I asked Schok for permission,” Jonen admitted.

“Really? What did he say?”

Jonen wrinkled his nose. “Told me he wasn’t in any position to give permission. But ‘for what it’s worth, I’m glad I didn’t burn you to ashes’,” He quoted Schok in his signature rough voice, the one that sounded like he’d swallowed ash from an old fire.

Laughing, Brune hoped Schok wasn’t as far gone as they previously thought. It might have been foolish on Jonen’s part, but Corric would appreciate the courtesy Jonen went through to court him.

Jonen soon left to get the new horse squared away, Corric tagging along to ‘help’. Brune had a strong feeling the help he had in mind had nothing to do with the horse at all.

It left him bereft of company and he could finally seek out Ridan. Sliding around dancing couples and politely declining to drink with people waylaid him. Eventually, he was able to get away from the fires and check Ridan’s tent. He wasn’t there or in the war tent.

Brune finally found him sitting on the outskirts of camp. He was camouflaged in shadow, sitting cross legged in the grass with his head tipped back. At some point, he’d taken the braids out of his hair, leaving it curled around his face. Ridan wasn’t wearing his cloak, choosing to wear a thick sweater with an oversized neckline. It dipped just enough to reveal beads and claws resting against his prominent collarbone.

Scuffing his feet so he wouldn’t sneak up on the blonde, Brune joined him. He took a seat beside him, trying to decipher just what it was he was looking at. The smoke from the fires made seeing the stars difficult.

“What are you doing?” he eventually asked, leaning back on his hands.

Ridan was silent for so long, Brune thought he might not answer at all.

“Remembering.”

He hummed. Even on the edge of camp he could hear the singing, smell meat cooking over the open flames. It was pungent, but he could pick out Ridan’s sweet and spicy scent under it all. He wanted to lean into it.

“Anything specific?” Brune prodded.

“Just before,” Ridan answered.

“Before what?”

“Before we had a harpy in our camp. Before I saw magic being used. Before I knew my enemy was willing to sacrifice his children to awaken the greatest evil the world has ever seen. Before my packmates had so much to lose.” Ridan swallowed, turning to look at Brune. “Before all of that, for a moment, it was just you and me and the stars.”

He remembered that night. When their small fire was the only thing keeping the night chill away, and they kept checking the skies to be sure a storm wasn’t rolling in over the horizon. Peppercorn and Boulder were yanking up the grass by its roots, shaking the dirt out with their clever muzzles.

It was the night Brune realized the depth of his feelings for Ridan.

Licking his lips, Brune had difficulty holding Ridan’s intense gaze, but was unable to look away. “We could have that again.”

Ridan shook his head. “No. The moment’s passed.”

“Then we make a new one,” Brune nearly shouted. Sitting up, he snatched Ridan’s hand. It was so much smaller than his, fingers almost delicate, as if they weren’t covered in callouses and scars from a life lived well. He held his hand in both of his. The look of defeat painted across Ridan’s face was so out of place hecouldn’t stand it. Not on Ridan. Not on the definition of victory. Not on his Ridan.

“And when that moment passes, we’ll make another. Then another. We won’t stop. Not until our battle has ended and we can stand beneath Artrax’s wings. And then that too will be another moment.”

Defeat melted off Ridan’s face, only to be replaced by something else. Something Brune liked a lot better. His eyes sparkled as he studied Brune, looking for any sign of doubt. Any sign that his assertions were anything less than completely genuine.

He wouldn’t find it.

Dark eyes dropped to his lips and Brune didn’t need magic to know what he was going to do next. Nothing in the stars or here on land could stop him.

Ducking in, he closed his eyes and carefully pressed his lips against Ridan’s. They were so soft, a little wet, and tasted like ale and spices. The press of lips could hardly be called a kiss, at least not until Ridan took hold of it. He pressed forward, using his held hand to pull Brune closer so they could slot together.