Page 40 of Blood Fist

Brune turned to look at him. “I guess because they think omegas are more delicate.”

“Doyouthink that?” Ridan asked hotly, hands fisting in the grass by his side.

The big alpha took a moment to think about it. “I didn’t think much about omegas at all. They just weren’t…relevant? It was all about my next meal, or the next place I could sleep.” His face twisted. “Kaledonea is a selfish place, full of selfish people. I don’t think it’s all our fault. It’s just the way you must be to survive.”

Ridan didn’t understand. Even before he presented, no one said anything about him being an omega. His mother had celebrated, telling him he would be just like his father. He learned all the same things Jonen did—when he was taught to ride and sling, so was Ridan. When he first drew a bow, Ridan was beside him, besting him at it all because he would always leave thealpha in his dust. Hell, even the Stone Blade founder was an omega.

The elders loved to sit around and tell stories at festivals. When the herb and drink flowed, they would reach back and speak of Artrax. It was a tale they’d all heard a hundred times, and they’d listen a hundred more. Ridan’s heart would thunder in his chest when they got to the part about his ancestors fighting side by side with the great dragon, accepting death because they knew that to live without righting the wrongs was a worse fate.

But the part of that story he never gave much thought to was the rest. The walled cities were made up of the same ancestors. So how did they become so different?

As if hearing his thoughts, Brune spoke, “In Kaledonea we were told the Clansmen were monsters—feeding on the flesh of the dead. Mindless, violent creatures without magic to guide them.” His lips quirked. “But the longer I’ve been here, the more it seems that Kaledonea is the violent one.”

Ridan plucked a blade of grass. He stroked up the stalk, calluses catching on the edge. “You think?” he asked gruffly, keeping his eye on the piece in his hands.

“I do.” Brune watched Ridan work the grass into a ball. “And I don’t know where that leaves me.”

They lapsed into silence. He tossed the balled grass into the creek and watched it bounce between rocks on its way downstream. It wasn’t an oppressive silence—it couldn’t be. Not with the ambient noise, but it was more than that. Ridan could feel that same sense of peace he felt on the battlefield when Brune was nothing more than a blur.

He was chewing his lip, looking into the forest but not seeing the tees. His mind was elsewhere—maybeback in Kaledonea. Or maybe contemplating the change his life had taken. Ridan had never considered what this might be like for him. Even if it was a choice Brune made, it was still a change.

Ridan elbowed him harder than necessary. “Look at the creek.” He jutted his chin up to where he’d picked the flower, where the creek was shallow as it split in two. “Here it’s a small thing, but up in the mountains it’s a river so strong not even a horse can cross without losing its footing. It travels all the way down, losing some of its power before splitting off into two different directions.”

Brune nodded, eyes on Ridan.

“If you take the far fork, you can follow the creek all the way to the Road where it grows strong again. And if you take the closer fork, you can follow back to the Clan where it might be smaller, but it gives us water.” He turned back to Brune, unwilling to look into his eyes, but unable to look away.

“Do you see? The mountain river changes, but that doesn’t make it wrong or weaker. It’s just a new direction.” He licked his lips. “That’s where you are now. You just have to pick.”

Brune’s lips parted slightly, his breath hitching as he leaned a little closer to Ridan. “What if it’s the wrong choice?”

“Won’t know until you’re at the end. And by then it’ll be too late to regret it.”

“Which would you choose?”

“I wouldn’t,” Ridan declared, lifting his chin. “I’d make my own path.”

That made the alpha chuckle, his smile brightening until he was tossing his head back. “I bet you would. Use your own two hands to make a whole new river.”

Ridan huffed.

Leaning back on his hands, Brune rolled his neck sohe could lazily look over at Ridan. “Maybe I’ll just follow you then. Shield your back so you can focus on what’s ahead.”

His face was so genuine, Ridan had to look away. There was nothing mocking in his tone. An alpha willing to show him his neck, willing to follow in his shadow.

Ridan wrinkled his nose. “As if I need you,” he grumbled petulantly.

Brune laughed.

“Where’s Ridan?” Jonen lifted his head, curls bouncing as he glanced around the small clearing they were picking herbs in.

Corric didn’t bother looking up, nails pulling the leaves off a stem. “He left an hour ago.”

“What?!” Jonen squeaked, dropping his basket. His black tea scent grew stronger, thicker.Alpha is worried.Corric couldn’t help the small smile that slipped across his face.

“He’s fine, alpha,” he teased, watching as Jonen’s cheeks colored in embarrassment. “You know he needs time alone.”

Jonen stammered something about ‘dangerous times’ but he picked up his basket, continuing the chore his mother sent them on.