Page 145 of Blood Fist

“What do you think made my final scale so powerful?”

“The magic!Yourmagic. It lingered in the scale. That’s how Sinestrus was able to break free.”

That brow ridge lifted again, a small huff passing past the dragon’s lips. “Do you truly believe that if there was such powerful magic left in the scale that Sinestrus wouldn’t have used it all? He couldn’t.” he cocked his head slightly, scales shifting like a ripple in a pond. “Sinestrus couldn’t touch that power because it was borne oflove.Of my love for you.”

Ridan’s hands drifted to his chest. He touched the place he’d put the scale.

“Magic corrupts. It exacts a toll. Creatures born of magic are incapable of love without a price. It is why we tried to keep the humans from it. But you sacrificed yourself—not for glory or power, but to protect your people. The scale reacted to that and heeded your commands.”

“The scale is gone. I cannot use it to return.”

“You don’t need it.” he nodded at the scene behind Ridan. “Use them. Use the strength of their love.”

“Use them? I can’t use them! I can’t take anything from them.”

“Even if it’s freely given?” Artrax asked quizzically. “What is it the Clansmen say? ‘Take when you need, give when you can’?”

Ridan gaped at the dragon. How could he possibly know that? And how had Ridan forgotten it? That was how they lived. They thrived as a clan, together. One’s flaws were balanced by another’s attributes.

Steeling himself, he clenched his fingers over his heart. The steadythump thumpincreased until he could feel it rattling against his ribs. Looking up into Artrax’s eyes, he suddenly knew what to do. Was it the remnants of the scale in his blood or the dragon himself?

Another question he didn’t ask.

Lifting off his chest, his hand extended toward the dark patch on Artrax’s shoulder. The missing scale was obvious, a wound that never healed. As his fingers hovered over it, he looked back at those who had come and gone before him.

“The path you’re on has many turns. It is longer than you can walk, and while you will never see the end, you are the beginning.”

Ridan touched the scab and closed his eyes.

Everything was red.

Red framed in a grey sky. Red tickling against sun kissed skin. Red clattering against teeth. Red stained on his skin and clothes. As he blinked, he was able to pick out more colors. But none were as enrapturing as that red. A red that wasn’t just a color, but a feeling. A person.

Brune was holding Ridan, his face upturned as heargued with someone. His fangs were out and his scent so sickening it made him gag. Brune should never smell like that. Every breath rattled in his lungs, painful like his chest was filled with daggers. Ridan’s movements were sluggish. It took a long moment for his finger to begin to twitch, but once it did, he lifted his hand. Fine movements eluded him, but he had enough strength to smack the back of his hand against Brune’s chest.

The man jumped, wet eyes dropping to him with disbelief. He stared at Ridan, unable to move. With a huff, he reached for Brune’s hand, fingers clumsily wrapping around his wrist to drag to his chest. The first rise and fall of breath had Brune’s face crumpling, the second had fresh tears tracking down his cheeks, and the third had him dragging Ridan to his chest so he could scent him, nosing into his bloodied hair.

“Ridan,”he heaved, his name more like an exhale of relief than a name. A term of endearment, maybe even a curse. So many things filtered through those syllables, and Ridan heard them all.

He didn’t close his eyes. He was afraid to. Afraid that if he closed them, the next time he opened them, he’d see gold instead of red.

Pressing into Brune, he saw Jonen and Corric staring at him in shock. They weren’t alone. No one could explain what had just happened.

No one except Ridan. And he wouldn’t tell.

Glancing down, he looked at his hand. It was blemish free. No sign of the scale, or the gold resided in the fine lines crossing his palms. The whirls of his fingertips were just skin. Even his chest and shoulder were healed, the scars from Sinestrus’s attack stayed in his mind. Only the blood was left behind.

Shifting, Ridan looked up at Brune, trailing hisbloodied fingers along his jaw. The big alpha kissed them, eyes closing in relief.

“I couldn’t smell you,” he admitted softly, his breath coasting over Ridan’s skin. It was such a delicate feeling, but it shuddered down his back like a frigid wind. “I couldn’t smell you and you were so still. I thought—I’m supposed to be your shield. I?—”

“I found you,” Ridan told him, voice raw with emotion. “I found you in this life and in death I chose you.”

At his words, Brune dropped to kiss Ridan. It wasn’t particularly soft, but it wasalive.Teeth pinching skin and noses smashed together, Brune kissed Ridan again and again. Kissed him until their breathing was ragged and then he kissed him some more.

Eventually Corric and Jonen found their way to him. They hugged and scented each other. Determination brewed in Corric’s eyes as he looked over Ridan, taking in his pale face and the wash of blood clinging to every inch of skin. Their eyes met and understanding passed between them, an unspoken conversation that had no words, but both understood anyway.

Corric stood without a word and made his way through the crowds.