Page 4 of Blood Fist

With a grunt, he rolled away, spitting out his knife. He checked that all three thieves were down before pushing to his feet.

“What kind of idiot doesn’t set a lookout?” he examined the scratches down his arm. He kicked at the closest body—the man groaned.

“Lucky for us,” Jonen mumbled distractedly, looking at the carriage.

Ridan didn’t care for the carriage, too busy looking at the surrounding carnage. The thieves had pulled chests out, hacking through the ornate wood ratherthan dealing with the metal lock. Clothes, gold, and even shiny gems sprawled across the dusty road.

He nudged at a useless looking piece of clothing. With his toes, he lifted it, noticing how the sun streamed right through it.

“S’pose this is for?” he asked distastefully. “Wouldn’t even keep the sun off you.”

But Jonen wasn’t looking, he was staring at the carriage. With the doors yanked off their hinges, the inside looked like a black hole. His sling had been put away, but his knife was still in hand. Head cocked, his curls fell over his face as he studied the interior as if he’d suddenly had SnapJaw sight and could see in the dark.

“Hey,” Ridan called for him. “Forget it. We’ll never get that clunky thing back home.”

The carriage was a loss. But the horse…

A big thing. Its coat was dirty, but the animal underneath was well made. Good legs, and a strong back. Its eyes were rolling in its head, the smell of blood and death putting it on edge. Now that Ridan was looking, he could see it was trapped in its harness, unable to flee. With his knife, he began cutting and hacking at the straps, trying to keep what he could of the good leather.

Iylah’s horse was getting on in years and she’d been talking about finding a new one. This animal would be perfect for her small cart of medicine, trundling around at a leisurely pace. She could probably even reuse the harness if he cut carefully.

Crooning to the horse, he tried to calm him with a steady hand on his shoulder as he extricated his legs from the tangled straps.

“Ridan.” Jonen’s voice was tense. Ridan dropped the strap he was working on, turning just in time to see Jonen stumble back off the carriage where he’d perched to look inside.

“Th-there’ssomeone inside!” he cried out, eyes wide.

Just as he finished talking, a head popped out of the open carriage doors. Slender, pale fingers curled over the broken hinges as the person hoisted themselves up.

The first thing Ridan noticed washair.There was so much of it! And it was unlike any hair he’d ever seen before. A mix of red and blonde. It was almost the same color as his pony.

Surprise or not, he did not know if this person was armed. “Get back!” Ridan shouted, flipping his knife so he could throw it. “I’ll pierce you through if you so much as make a move.”

Those slender fingers rose in the air, lifting high above the mess of hair. Light eyes—so light Ridan couldn’t tell their color from this distance—peeked out from behind long bangs. They were sunken in, framed by hollow cheeks and skin so translucent it looked like a poorly hatched egg. Ridan could practically see the blue of veins pulsing under their skin.

“I am unarmed,” the person said, voice strangely accented.

Now that he spoke, Ridan could see masculine features. The man was young, perhaps even close to their age. Behind his mass of hair, he looked thin. Face sullen and angular.

Jonen managed to get his wits about him, sheathing his knife. He climbed back aboard the tipped over carriage, offering a dirty, calloused hand. “Here, let me help you out. Are you hurt?”

The boy shook his head, giving a tentative hand to Jonen. He helped him out of the carriage, struggling with the sheer volume of the man’s clothing. He was wearing some kind of dress. The thing was obscene, worse than the flimsy garment Ridan had kicked at a few momentsago. There werelayersto it, and it wasn’t even cold! The thing was rigid against the man’s chest and up his neck. It must be stifling.

Standing on solid ground, his curious eyes flicked around the bodies. He seemed to be in shock, hands curled up against his chest, fingers twitching.

“My name is Jonen Bright Fur,” Jonen introduced himself, flashing a reassuring smile.

“Corric,” the man said, turning his attention back to the alpha beside him. “Corric Tylock.”

Jonen shared a look with Ridan. They knew that name.

“What the hell are you doing so far from Kaledonea?” Ridan asked sharply. “The Tylocks don’t leave the walls. Not when you have soldiers to do it for you.”

“Ridan!”

“I was betrothed to a man named Ellaro Bargrave. He lives with his men on the Torn Coast.”

Betrothed? Ridan didn’t need to smell this omega to confirm he hadn’t presented yet. What kind of person promisesa childin marriage?