Page 138 of Blood Fist

With a shaking hand, he reached up to touch the wound on his neck. Ridan’s bite was still fresh, the delicate nerves of his gland exposed. They stung with every brush of the wind, and Brune loved it. He loved seeing it reflected on Ridan. His bite was big, red, and raw on his elegant neck. The entire camp had exploded in a series of whispers when they’d both appeared with matching bites. As far as they knew, Ridan and Brune weren’t even courting.

In his defense, theyhadcourted.

For several minutes.

And now his mate was somewhere down the mountain, running for his life. Brune’s stomach clenched with anxiety. He just wanted todosomething. He wasn’t alone. The entire forest reeked of stress.

The stillness shattered with a scream. Everyone jerked, hands flying to their weapons just as several figures burst through the trees.

Ridan was easy to see. His blonde hair caught the sun as he ran. He was bowed forward, sword bouncing on his back as barreled across the field. Behind him, a Windy Cliff warrior looked over his shoulder. Before he could turn back, the ground beneath him exploded. He was thrown, landing on the ground with a sickening crack. Grass, rock, and dirt clumps rained down over Ridan. He lifted an arm to protect his head as he ran, not pausing to look behind him.

Before the ground had settled, Kaldonea soldiers and magicians were flooding onto the field. Hot on Ridan’s heels, several arrows whizzed past his head. They embedded in the ground around him, their fletching quivering with the force.

Alone, Ridan sprinted with everything he had. The leather vest he was wearing was covered in blood, the multiple buckles cinched around his waist splattered with red. It soaked down his legs and boots. Brune couldn’t tell if it was Ridan’s.

He stepped forward, wanting to reach out for him. To meet him halfway, shield him. Osmond blocked him, a hand on his chest. He didn’t look at Brune, but his meaning was clear.

Not yet.

Brune gnashed his teeth in anger, hand clenching around the head of his hammer. His heart pounded in his chest as if he was running with Ridan, matching him stride for stride.

Ridan looked tired. Kaldonea was gaining on him. He would not make it to the other side of the field in time. Brune’s eyes flicked from him to the soldiers behind him. He held his breath as their archers lined up, sighting down their arrows at his back.

He could feel it, too. Lifting his head, Ridan must have used every last bit of oxygen to scream, “Schok, NOW!”

Brune’s eyes widened. “No!”

But it was too late. The magic user stepped from the trees, flames licking up his arms as he flicked his fingers towards the bands of dried hay. In a blink, the line had ignited, flames racing across the field. Cutting off Kaldonea’s soldiers.

And Ridan with them.

In horror, Brune watched as Ridan disappearedbehind the wave of heat. The flames undulated, granting him warped glances of the blonde. Ridan had set the plan in motion without getting himself to freedom.

Ropes snapped behind him. It was too late. Henroen and his team were too far into the trees. They wouldn’t be able to see that Ridan wasn’t clear. They saw the flames and cut their ropes.

Dozens of thick tree trunks the Clansmen had cut down were loosed from the ropes that had held them back. They picked up speed as they bumped and rolled down the mountain, completely out of control as they barreled toward the flames.

Brune screamed Ridan’s name, but it was no use. All he could do was watch as the first of the logs rolled toward the fire. The oil painted on their trunks would ignite the second they came in contact with the flames, turning the logs into death traps as they spun towards Kaldonea’s troops.

The bite on his neck twinged, and Brune’s eyes snapped toward the fire. As a log passed through, he watched Ridan throw himself over the fire. For a split second, the flames parted as they consumed the log, and Ridan took advantage. He launched himself through the parted flames, landing on the other side in a heap.

Brune was running before he could even think. Jumping and dodging logs, he slid to Ridan’s side. Flames licked at his pants. Brune patted them down with thick fistfuls of damp dirt. Smoke curled up from between his fingers, but he didn’t stop until Ridan stirred.

“Ridan!” he brushed hair from Ridan’s face, smudging soot and blood across his skin.

Dark eyes flickered open, chest heaving. “Thought you were always supposed to catch me,” he wheezed.

Brune blinked tears from his eyes, shaking his head. “I have to keep you guessing. Don’t want you to get bored.”

Ridan huffed, wrapping an arm around his ribs as he sat up. Through the heat haze, they could see Kaldonea’s soldiers scattered. Many were injured, some dead. Small fires were starting around the field from where the wind had carried embers. Kaldonea’s magic users were already working on dousing the flames. The sky was filled with black smoke.

Brune helped him to his feet. “Are you hurt?”

“Yes,” he grunted, pulling his sword from the sheath on his back. Gingerly, he lowered the hand on his ribs and turned to face the dying flames. Behind him, hundreds of Clansmen stepped from the trees with weapons raised.

A storm rolled over the mountain.

Swords thundered together, metal scraping and shattering like blasts across the mountain. Flashes of teeth and skin burst like lightning. Swinging weapons and running bodies sent the lingering smoke scattering like a breeze. Blood fell like rain, splattering across the ground to water grass trampled beneath worn boots and lifeless bodies.