Page 12 of Blood Fist

But most surprising was Chief Restrina. She’d been there, a faint smile on her stern face. It wasn’t until they were about to shuffle out to begin their day when she handed him a necklace from around her own neck.

It was beautiful. The stones cut so that their edges caught the light, reflecting their rich blue color. They were painstakingly set with a chain so fine it felt warm when she slipped it around his neck.

He gapedat the jewelry. The Clansmen wore jewelry to celebrate deeds. To showcase feats of strength or cunning. This one surely must have been the prize of a great battle.

“But…but I haven’t earned it,” he’d said, still looking down at the stones as they rested against his collarbone.

Restrina chuffed, tweaking his chin. “The toughest battles aren’t fought with swords or won with blood. You’ve earned it.”

Corric clutched the necklace in his hands and found he wasn’t able to thank her. She didn’t seem to need it, scenting him before shooing him out.

As winter approached, Chief Restrina told the boys that she would take them on their first overnight hunt. They redoubled their efforts, becoming more proficient with bow and arrow and working on their tracking skills. Ridan showed Corric how to use a sling, and while he was not as accurate with it as some of the others his age, he enjoyed practicing with it.

After a particularly long day of training, Sehleh turned them away at the door, insisting she would not have three dust bunnies mucking up her clean tent. Grousing, the three trudged to the spring where they could bathe. While temperate, the waters still had an icy chill. A portent of the winter to come.

Jonen bathed first, quickly scrubbing through his curls before dressing and allowing the two omegas to come in. For privacy, he stepped past the tree line. He wouldn’t leave completely. His alpha might not have presented yet, but it was there, just enough that he didn’t feel safe leaving his pack members without protection.

Ridan just rolled his eyes, tossing off his clothes and splashing into the spring. As time went on, Corric was betterable to read the blonde. Previously, he thought him impervious to cold or discomfort. But now he realized it was just stubbornness. Ridan was too proud to acknowledge the goosebumps rippling up his arms or the way his jaw clenched.

They’d brought a bar of soap with them and shared it between them. Corric took extra time to disentangle his long hair, running his blunt nails through the wet strands. It was a tedious process and not for the first time he found himself envious of Ridan’s much shorter hair.

It was cut roughly, the blonde unable to sit still long enough for Sehleh to make it even. His hair was a pretty color, but it was constantly tangled around his face. Sometimes he’d allow Oosa or Derry—the shaved head omega they’d met on Corric’s first day—to trace small braids into the sides, looping ceramic beads or teeth into the plaits.

“Do you ever think about mates?” Corric asked as he reclined against a rock, picking at his hair.

Ridan swiped the wet hair from his eyes, grunting at him.

“Mates.”

He made a face. “Do you?”

“Sometimes,” Corric admitted. “My father said if an omega wanted a good mate, they had to be soft. Quiet. Comb their hair and?—”

Ridan snorted. “My father didn’t have any of that. He was tough and strong. And my Ma fought three alphas for him.”

They rarely spoke of Ridan’s dam. Jonen told him the loss was still painful to Ridan and his mother, and to speak of him would bring emotions to the surface neither was willing to share with others. He said whenher mate died, Restrina took Ridan into the mountains for two months to grieve.

“How did they meet?”

Ridan grew quiet, eyes downcast as he poked at the suds from his bath. “He was from a different clan. She saw him at the Equinox Festival. My father wasn’t a showy man, but he was damned good with a sword.”

Corric had seen Corenus’s famous sword. It hung above their nest, nestled on fleece lined hooks, ready for Ridan to grow into.

“She jumped into the ring, grabbed him by the shirt and told him he was going to be her omega.”

Laughing, Corric shook his head. “Sounds like the Chief.”

A small smile graced Ridan’s face. Corric was always amazed how it changed the way he looked—from jagged lines and aggression to something warm, soft. The mere curvature of Ridan’s lips could transform him.

“My father just shrugged, said if she were a worthy alpha, she’d prove it.” He grinned then, not the soft smile from before but the big ugly crooked smile that ripped across his face like a laceration. “She presented him with the claiming teeth of three alphas who had petitioned his chief for him.”

Privately, Corric didn’t think that story was as romantic as Ridan seemed to. But he could see the merit in differing courtships.

“Do you think an alpha will want me?”

“Why not?” he asked with a shrug.

“I’m not…”I’m not from the clans.