Page 141 of Blood Fist

Careening around twists and turns, he caught sight of the unobtrusive trail. It was nearly hidden, half covered by a leaning tree and some shrubbery. But Ridan knew it well. He’d grown up playing at the base of the trail his whole life.

Hand on the tree, he swung around it and pushed himself up the narrow incline. Legs aching, and sweat streaming down his face, he climbed. His mouth was dry, and his throat felt as brittle as thin ice over a pond, shattered with its shards slicing into his pallet with every ragged breath he forced his agonized lungs to draw in.

Ridan ignored the stitch in his side as he burst from the trees, entering the meadow that led up to the final climb tothe cliffs. If he looked to the right, he could see the whole plain, the Stone Blade’s home, in ruins somewhere below. It was a view he normally enjoyed, stopping to appreciate his home and smell the small white flowers that littered the trail.

Today he didn’t look, but he knew it was there. It was what drove him forward. He held onto that view, pictured it in the forefront of his mind as a reminder of why he was running.

Corric and Jonen finally holding hands, faces red as they looked down at their feet.

Derry completely oblivious as he accidentally set his hair on fire.

Sehleh sitting by the opening of their tent, face turned to the sunset as she knitted a new scarf.

Tia begging Osmond and Niklas for justonemore story before bed.

Henroen losing a drinking contest to his mate, only to drunkenly beg her to court all over again.

Kyu sitting with Neir between her legs, idly working leather while her mate nursed Merle.

Brune’s smile.

All of it was Ridan’s—his to treasure, and his to protect. And he would. With the strength in his arm and the blood in his veins. Nothing would get past him.

Stumbling up the ridge on numb legs, he blinked, and suddenly they were in front of him.

Krait’s bulk was easy to see. His red hair, darker than Schok’s, was impossible to miss. He was standing at the mouth of the tunnel, his arms crossed as he watched a skinny, crook backed man and two soldiers chip away at the rock.

He’d never seen Cyrill before, but his identity was obvious. Not only because he held no weapon, but because of the void hovering by his soldier. Anundulating cloud so dark, Ridan couldn’t stand to look at it for long. It seemed to cling to Cyrill’s thin shoulder like it was attached, whirling around his head and pulsating, flashes of light rippling from the center every few moments. Almost like it was…

Feeding off him.

Cyrill’s eyes were dark, face sallow as he instructed the soldiers to keep chiseling away at the wall. Ridan’s heart ached to see the mountain so desecrated.

“Krait!” Ridan roared, his voice ragged.

The entire group startled, turning to face Ridan. What little breath he had was nearly stolen when Krait’s familiar eyes turned to him.Corric’seyes. But this man wasn’t his packmate.

The soldiers peeled away, drawing their swords to come at Ridan. They were clearly better trained than the soldiers below him. Their weapons were fine, decorated with thin filigree that matched their leather armor.

The narrow path forced the soldiers to attack one at a time. As the first approached, Ridan dropped to a knee, swiping up a handful of gravel and dirt. He flung it at the unsuspecting soldier’s eyes, swinging underhand with his sword to cut a deep wound just under the man’s breastplate. Gurgling, the soldier fell to his knees.

Flipping his sword, he met the second over the body of the first. It was a quick fight. These soldiers might be Krait’s elite, but they had nothing on a pissed off Stone Blade. Two blocks and Ridan was slipping under their defense, dropping the second body behind him.

Chest heaving, he met Krait’s eye as he lifted his blade. Blood dripped off the blade, plinking into the dirt at his feet as he pointed it at him.

“I’m going to water this mountain with your blood,” he promised.

Krait turned to face him, drawing his massive two-handed sword. He was bigger than Ridan. Despite his size, his eyes were small below his slicked back hair, beady as they sized him up.

His voice was rough, grating like a rockslide. “Your death will be meaningless, omega.”

Ridan bared his teeth, focused on every twitch of the big alpha's body. Behind him, Cyrill kept working. Hands frantically clawing at the rock.

Krait’s first blow came overhead. He did nothing to hide the move, broadcasting it the entire time, hoping his superior size and strength would break through Ridan’s defense. He caught the blade on his, twisting so it slid across the fuller and sliced into the ground with a thud.

Light on his feet, Ridan struck at Krait’s back, surprised when the man’s blade met him. He was fast for someone of his size, shoving Ridan back so hard he landed on his ass. Rolling, he only gained his feet in time to be pushed back again and again. Krait’s sword came so close he could feel the wind buffeting off the blade.

Before he could get his bearings, Krait was back. They traded blows, their swords clanging with the scrape of metal. Ridan's arms vibrated with the blows. His arms shook each time Krait pressed down on him, the big man’s face inching closer with every swing.