Page 33 of Blood Fist

Remembering the bloody chief curled over herself made him shudder. “Is she…?”

Corric’s face dropped. “She is alive. But her injuries are grave.”

Niklas swallowed the last of his second bun, sharing a look with Brune.What did that mean for them?

Corric pushed the jug toward them, and Brune took it, sniffing at it before taking a sip. It wasn’t water, but something light and sweet. Smacking his lips, he dove in for a second taste before handing it over to Niklas, who took a long pull.

Looking for something easier to talk about, Corric told them all about the fruits that the Stone Blade grew. This one made a nice juice, especially pleasant on hot afternoons. Brune had never had anything so delicious. It felt decadent, and he found himself licking the back of his teeth for another taste.

“The Stone Blade?”

Corric nodded. “The tale goes that before Artrax fell, the Clansmen were united. When they joined Artrax for his final fight, many fell. One omega fought so hardagainst Sinestrus’ vile army that her weapon shattered. Desperate to keep fighting, she broke a boulder upon the head of one of his magicked creatures. She picked up one of its pieces and kept fighting with a blade of stone. Later, after the fight, they broke apart into separate clans. She brought her pack and started the Stone Blade clan.”

Brune had heard of Artrax and Sinestrus. But not in this context. In Kaledonea it was spoken of like a folk story. Something distorted by time, used as a weapon by those with an agenda against magic. The clansmen clearly believed it was truth.

“Are we p-prisoners?” Niklas stammered, hugging the clay jug to his chest like it could protect him.

Corric raised a brow before gesturing to the open door. “There’s no guard,” he said softly. “You can leave anytime you want. Henroen brought you here to keep you safe from your own people. But if you want to return to them, we can give you provisions for your journey.”

“To keep us safe?”

“You saved Ridan’s life.” Corric was solemn. “And by extension, the life of our chief. Then fought against your own people. Why would we punish you for that?”

Brune didn’t have an answer to that, so he just took the jug from Niklas and drank deeply. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he looked up at the omega.

“They would let us stay? Even though we’re from Kaledonea?”

That small smile curled across Corric’s face again. “They let me, didn’t they?”

After that, he stood, gesturing for the two to follow him. Corric decided he was the best person to give them a tour of the camp. He walked easily, with the confidence of a man who knew his way.

Corric showed them the different tents. He pointed out where they bathed, which family had the best goods, and the stables. Brune was eager to see horses up close, but to his disappointment, they skirted the big structure.

They drew looks as they went. Brune found no hostility, just well-earned curiosity. People stopped at their tasks as they walked by. Sometimes Corric introduced them, but Brune didn’t think he could possibly remember all the names.

“Right now,” Corric began after introducing him to the Smithe family who made the best boots in the clan. “We have you both staying in one of the unmated alpha tents. It’s not the biggest, but you will be able to make it yours.”

Niklas spent most of the tour staring at his feet. He fingered the bow he’d strapped to his back. “I could sell the bow, I suppose.”

Brune nodded. “And the armor. We should get enough food?—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Corric waved him off. “Someone will host you at their hearth.”

That made him pause. “But we don’t have any money.”

Corric laughed, but he wasn’t looking at Brune. His eyes were distant. “I said the same thing when I first came,” he explained fondly. “Chief Restrina told me the clan is only as strong as its weakest members. Right now, that’s you two.”

Brune felt shame burn across his face. Before he could say anything, Corric cut him off. “Here in the clans, you take when you need, and give when you can.”

Niklas shook his head, looking at Brune as if he would have the answers. “But we don’thaveanything.”

“Yet,” Corric finished for him. “You will. And whenyou do, you’ll help the next person who needs it. We thrive as a clan, or not at all.”

Not truly understanding what he meant, Brune continued to follow Corric. Back in Kaledonea, if he was starving and his neighbor had two pieces of bread—he’d eat both. It was just the way it was. No one had enough to share, and if they did, then they wouldn’t. When you had to fight for every inch, when failure meant nothing but the body cart coming for you, nothing else mattered.

He shared an incomprehensible look with Niklas before catching up with the omega prince.

They ended at a large fenced area outside the stables. On one end, targets were set up for archery, and the rest of the space was empty. Two people Brune recognized were standing beside straw stuffed training dummies.