Page 32 of Blood Fist

For the first time in his life, Brune didn’t know who he was. He thought before he had nothing—back when he was just a dirty street kid with nothing but the will to survive. But then he had a home—the barracks weren’t comfortable, but it had been a roof. Now he had nothing. Even the clothes on his back belonged to King Krait.

Having nothing had never made him feel like he was nothing. But now…

Now he was staring at the ceiling, unable to even pray because he knew not who would listen to his pleas.

His muscles ached from the battle. Try as he might, he didn’t want to think about it. The horror of it all had not set in. He felt lied to. All the glory they promised him was not to be found among the slashing of blades and gurgling screams.

But therewasa glory to be found. A brightness soblinding, even remembering it had him wanting to close his eyes against the glare.

The omega appeared on the horizon like a wish made real. He stood strong, a courage Brune didn’t know existed straightening his spine. Never wavering, he stepped into a battle he knew he might not win. He protected his people with a sword he could not carry and a conviction he was born with.

Bargrave might have looked at him and seen his gender, but all Brune could see was a man built to change the world. A man who never had to ask to lead, for anyone with eyes would follow him until their legs gave out.

Maybe that was why he did what he did. Why he threw away what little he had to save a stranger. Perhaps there was a deity in the sky—the gods the skinny priests were always wailing about on street corners, or Artrax himself—possessing him with the courage to do what needed to be done to keep the wheels of time turning. Ridan Oldsun was meant for something more than dying on a dusty field.

With a small smile, he added that to his mantra.

He was fed.

He was warm.

He was dry.

And Ridan Oldsun was not meant to die.

That’s why Brune moved. That’s why they were sitting in this strange place with no sense of time. Looking over, he wanted to ask Niklas what he thought. Really, he just wanted to hear a voice in the oppressive silence. Wanted to hear his friend’s voice tell him he thought the same things, that he would have done what Brune did.

But before he could, there was a rustling at the opening. As he sat up to investigate, the flap was pulledaside, bright sunlight pouring in, blinding him. He winced against what he assumed was morning, lifting a hand to shield his eyes.

Prince Corric moved so his head blocked the light, a small smile gracing his thin lips. He hefted a basket up to eye level. “Thought you might be hungry.”

The smell wafting from the basket hit Brune as he finished speaking. It made his stomach twist, gurgling audibly.Maybe he wasn’t so fed.

Corric smirked, leaving one flap flipped so the tent was illuminated with fresh morning light. He stepped in, dropping the basket between them and sitting cross-legged. Lifting the lid, he pulled out a clay jug and handed each of them a bun.

Niklas sniffed the food suspiciously, but Brune didn’t think, just biting into the food. Warm dough broke apart in his teeth, yeasty and buttery. The bun had a meat filling of some kind, so tender it fell apart as it hit his tongue. Unfamiliar spices burnt along his lips as he chewed.

The Clansmen could kill him now. He’d found the promised afterlife.

When he finished eating, Corric wordlessly handed him another bun. Niklas wasn’t too far behind.

“Momma Sehleh is the best cook,” he said conversationally.

Brune didn’t know who that was, but he wanted to get on his knees and personally thank her for existing.

“The food was the easiest thing to get used to.”

His chewing slowed. For a moment, he forgot who he was sitting with. This was Prince Corric Tylock.

Swallowing dryly, he licked the crumbs from his lips. “How did you come to be here?” he asked tentatively. “I mean, General Bargrave seemed to believe you were kidnapped…”

The omega didn’t smile, but amusement sparkled in his gray eyes. “Not quite.”

The story he told was hard to believe. Had anyone but the stoic prince told him that he had not been kidnapped but had instead been saved by two wayward youths looking to get out of schoolwork, he might not have believed them.

“Contrary to what I’m sure my father wants you to believe, I was never a captive. I begged Chief Restrina to let me stay.”

That was easy to see. Corric looked at ease here. In fact, now that Brune was thinking back, he recognized the omega as one of the people shouting for Ridan on the battlefield yesterday.