Page 44 of Blood Fist

He stepped forward, kneeling in front of the omega. “I want to have things to trade, but I don’t know how. Need me to catch a rat? Sure. But the animals you speak of…I wouldn’t even know where to find them. Will you show me?”

Shock bloomed across his face, but before he could say no, Corric cut in. “I think that’s a good idea. It’s been a while since you’ve been hunting, Ridan.”

Gritting his teeth, he glared at Corric from the corner of his eye. “I’ve beenbusy.”

“ItisSnap Jaw nesting season,” Jonen cajoled, turning his doe eyes on the two omegas. Corric glared at him balefully.

Ridan looked between the three of them before mumbling something about saying no to puppies. Finally, he agreed, and they made plans to meet bright and early the next morning.

Brune jumped forward before Ridan could get up, offering him his hand. The omega looked at it for a minute before taking it, letting Brune pull him to his feet.

“Don’t be late, Foreigner,” he warned before disappearing back into the clan, leaving only his scent behind. Brune resisted sniffing his skin. At least until he was back in the privacy of his tent.

Dawn arrived wet. The sky was gray in a maddening rain that wasn’t soaking but enough to catch on lashes. Brune had no coat, so he dressed as he normally did and left a sleeping Niklas to meet Ridan, Jonen, and Corric by the stables.

Of course, when they told him to meet them at the stables, he didn’t think that would includehorses.

Ridan was standing under the overhang with a thick furred cape over his shoulders. His hair was damp and falling into his face under the weight of the rain and he was holding the reins of two horses.

Brune recognized Peppercorn, Ridan’s beloved pony. The second horse was bigger, a bay with sprigs of white mixed into his mahogany hair. He looked older; his eyes closed as he rested against Ridan’s shoulder.

At the look on his face, Ridan raised a brow. “You know how to ride a horse, don’t you?”

Brune snorted. “This is the closest I’ve ever been to a horse.” He didn’t think he should mention that he had eaten horse meat. Or that he’d enjoyed it. That probably wouldn’t endear him to Peppercorn, or her older companion.

Ridan sighed, flipping the reins over the horses’ necks. “It’ll be fine. It’s an easy ride.”

Still uncertain, Brune eyed the bigger horse's back. It certainly looked strong, but…he wasn’t exactly a small man. It was different for Ridan, he was lithe and balanced. But Brune? He would sit like a rock on that poor horse’s back.

“I can just walk,” he tried, resting his hands on his belt. He nudged Derry’s hammer, still stuck there from the day before. He really should have returned that.

“It’ll take you hours to get there on foot. Just get on the horse.”

Brune was still uncertain. The horse wasn’t that tall, but a fall would still hurt. It was one thing for Ridan to toss him to the ground, but a horse? His dignity might not recover.

With a grunt of impatience, Ridan reached for his hand to pull him close to the horses. Standing at his side, he extended Brune’s hand toward the bay, slim fingers sliding along the backs of his thicker ones, guiding them flat. His hand was small compared to Brune’s, calluses rough against the back of his hand.

Even though Ridan was smaller than him, Brune felt his presence keenly. Pressed against him, his fingers nearly slotted between Brune’s showing him where to place his hand. Brune shivered and tried to breathe through his mouth.

“There, let him sniff you,” he instructed, voice lowering anoctave. “Horses can’t see directly beneath their muzzle, so you need to keep your hand flat. That way, they don’t mistake a finger for food.”

Deep brown eyes regarded Brune before the horse lowered his muzzle to his hands. Stiff whiskers tickled his palm before big lips began nudging his hand, moving around to see if he had any goodies tucked away. It felt strange, and he found himself laughing a little.

“His lips are so strong!”

“They use them to knock away dirt and snow to find the best grass.”

“What’s his name?”

“Boulder,” Ridan answered with a huff. “He used to pull Iylah’s cart, but he’s getting on in years. Now he babysits the weanlings and carries useless alphas to the hunting grounds.”

Brune ignored the dig, choosing to stroke up the horse’s strong neck. He was soft, coat glossy with the remnants of summer. Boulder was a good name for him. He seemed sturdy.

Moving between the horses, he gestured for Brune to come up with him. “Put your hands here.” He set one of Brune’s hands at the base of Boulder’s thick neck and the other on top of his rump.

Bending his knees, Ridan cupped his hands. “Give me your knee—no the other one! Yes, now on three, jump and swing your leg over. But don’t jump too hard; you’ll end up in the dirt on the other side.”

Boulder’s head lifted at the sound of horses approaching. Brune looked between his ears to see a damp Corric and Jonen trotting into the barn. Corric was eyeing the scene with his eyebrows raised.