Page 43 of Blood Fist

“It’s a hunt over the mountains,” Jonen explained. “There are no clans there, so the pelts and meat are worth a lot. We call it the Long Hunt because it takes nearly half a year just to get there.”

Neir nodded. “She wanted to get enough to start our lives off right. Have enough for a family.” She touched her pup’s nose with a soft finger. “I just decided to start sooner than she thought.”

Brune didn’t know Kyu, but he thought she was probably a good alpha. Anyone who had the fortitude to leave their new mate for so long to secure their future was strong. Still, she would probably be distraught to find she’d missed so much.

He hated to keep comparing the life of the Clansmen with his in Kaledonea, but it was difficult not to. Back in the city, an alpha’s worth was based on howthey presented themselves. How far down they could look on another. But here, it was nearly impossible to guess someone’s second gender without getting close enough to smell them. There were alphas who stayed home and tended to the hearth while omegas went hunting, and betas who took on leadership and protection roles.

It might be dizzying if it didn’tmake so much sense.

In the Stone Blade, the right person did the job, regardless of gender. From what he gathered, Neir herself was a fierce warrior who often protected the borders. She’d been blooded countless times in skirmishes, and were she not pregnant at the time, she would have been fighting against him in the last battle.

It was hard to believe when he looked at her now, dressed in loose soft clothing, staring down at her pup with love in her eyes. But he was sure he would see for himself the moment Neir regained her strength.

Brune lifted his head when he caught a scent on the slight breeze. Goosebumps erupted down his skin as he turned, locking eyes with Ridan as he walked up to them. It was as if he could sense Brune’s thoughts on fierce omegas and appeared.

He looked tired. With sagging shoulders, he took a seat beside Corric, giving the pup a once over before taking a long drink of the proffered water skin.

“Long day?” Corric asked as he watched Ridan chug the water.

Ridan grunted. “Festival dealings. Which crops to bring, horses to sell, and who should stay behind. It’s never ending. I’m beginning to believe my mother got injured in a bid for rest.”

Neir took her pup back, nuzzling into her soft crown. “How is Chief Restrina doing?”

Whatever mirth Ridan managed to dredge upslipped from his face. He swallowed, fiddling with the strap on the skin. “She wishes she could welcome your pup to the clan personally.”

Despite still being chief, Restrina had been sequestered away. Corric told Brune in the clans, the sick or injured—those closer to death—do not interact with the young. There is fear that their valor, stronger with time, may accidentally overshadow that of the babes. Confusing the spirits who serve Artrax so that they might bestow the child’s life upon the stronger warrior.

With so many young in the clan, it was no surprise Restrina chose to remain solitary. She would never risk harming any of the pups in the clan.

“She need not worry. My pup will happily receive her blessing when she is stronger,” Neir said confidently, her attention on Ridan. He seemed to flinch under her assertions, looking away.

Slipping the hammer into his belt, Brune stepped off the ladder to stand beside Jonen. “What’s the festival?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

Ridan looked up at him from under pale lashes. He looked at him like he always did—with a mixture of emotion, Brune felt like he was just on the precipice of beginning to understand. A hesitation, but a desire. As if Ridan knew what he wanted to say, but wasn’t quite sure how or why.

“The Shortening of Days festival. It happens every year, on neutral ground. The clans gather to celebrate the end of longer days and prepare for winter.” He answered after a moment, voice hoarse.

“It’s more than that,” Jonen cuts in excitedly. “There are games, tests of skill, courting, and trade. The clans bring their best to trade and sell.”

Neir nods. “They are enjoyable.”

“You won stone arrowheads last year, didn’t you?” Corric asked.

“Oh yes, I fought a beta with a flaming spear for them. She still walks with a limp.” Neir’s scent spiked, pride tickling their noses.

Ridan laughed, throwing his head back. It was an ugly thing—honking and hawing like his joy bubbled from the back of his throat. His eyes squinted together, lining his face in wrinkles.

Brune smiled, leaning closer. “C-Can I participate?”

Jonen clapped him on the back. “You’re clan, aren’t you?”

He tried not to chuff at the ease with which they accepted him. As the days passed, he felt more and more like this was home. But that didn’t change the fact that he had nothing to his name. He lived on the kindness of the clan around him. Even Niklas was out hunting, spending much of his time with Osmond and his little sister. Tia had already proclaimed she wasgoing to be an archer like Nik!and the meat he brought back helped feed them.

But all Brune had done was help Derry and patch a roof. Things he was certainly proud of, but not enough. Not if he wanted a future.

His attention drifted towards Ridan. “Will you take me hunting?”

“Hm?”