Page 59 of Blood Fist

“I swear the strength of my arm, the beating of my heart, and the shield on my back, to you, Ridan Oldsun. From now until my battle has ended.” With his words, he tilted his head and bared his neck.

Dark eyes stared down at him, shock and something Brune couldn’t define rolling across Ridan’s face quickerthan a storm over the plain. His hands trembled by his sides before he reached out, tracing a featherlight finger over Brune’s cheek to run down his neck, shivers following him across his skin.

Transfixed, Ridan watched him for a moment before cupping his cheek and taking a step closer, so close Brune’s chest was pressed to his abdomen.

With only the stars to witness, Ridan smiled. “I’ll hold you to that, Brune.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE FESTIVAL

Under the pall of Chief Restrina’s death, life continued. The Festival of Shortening Days was approaching and the entire clan was abuzz about it. Warriors were sharpening their blades, merchants were stocking wares, and everyone was collecting things to trade.

Brune wasn’t immune to the excitement. He could feel his heart beating harder at the thought of meeting more Clansmen. Standing among them as a Stone Blade. For the first time in his life, Brune felt pride. In his people and in himself.

He’d grown since he first came—stronger in arm, yes, but also in heart. No longer was he a mere soldier, stumbling around at the behest of something he didn’t understand or care for. No, now he wielded the Maladon’s Aegis. He wore sturdy boots. His skin was scarred from the teeth of a formidable beast.

He had found a home.

And he loved it, even if it occasionally tried to kill him.

“Move your feet,” Osmond shouted as he circled him, one of his blades skimming across his shield. “Know when to plant your feet and know when to move.”

His arm shook with the effort of keeping the shield aloft. Even after training every day, it was still heavy. Niklas had taken to helping him ice his arm at the end of each day only so he could do it again.

Out of his peripheral he saw Osmond line up his blow. At the last moment, he stepped into it, slamming the shield into his hand hard enough to send the blade spinning off into the sand. While Osmond stumbled, he charged forward again, smashing the shield into his face.

Stunned, the alpha fell into the dirt, his second blade dropping with him. Brune lowered his shield with a grin.Finally!He had never been able to disarm Osmond before. The man was too fast.

His smile dropped when he saw the blood and tears pouring down Osmond’s face. With a gasp, Brune dropped next to him. “Oh shit! Are you ok?”

“Henroen was right,” Osmond slurred, spitting blood with every word. “You have a hell of an arm on you.” He grinned, showing off red stained teeth.

“Is it broken?”

Osmond shrugged, poking at the bridge of his nose. “Could be.”

“Let me take you to Iylah,” Brune offered, setting his shield aside to grab Osmond. The blonde knocked his hands away.

“Later. Actually…I wanted to talk to you.” Osmond looked over his shoulder at the other end of the practice field. Niklas was kneeling next to Tia, helping her hold a small bow. The girl had wanted to learn how to shoot and refused to take no for an answer. While other kids her age were perfecting the sling, she would only pick up archery. Whether it was the stubborn set of her jaw or the soft eyes, Niklas agreed to teach her.

Brune took a seat beside Osmond in the sand, shading his eyes with a hand. The midday sun was bright, burning the skin of their bare shoulders.

“To me?” Brune asked curiously.

“Yes, I—” Osmond stopped, seeming unsure of what he wanted to say. It was an odd look for the alpha. Resting his elbows on his knees, Osmond dropped his head. “I wanted to-I wanted to ask you to be a witness.”

“A witness? To what?”

Osmond exhaled shakily. “I want to ask Niklas for the right to court him.”

Of all the things Osmond could have said, that was the last Brune expected. Sure, he knew they were close, but he never thought shy Niklas would ever be romantically involved with someone. Which, in hindsight, is foolish. Niklas was a great man. Strong and righteous.

Looking back, he could scarcely recall a recent time when Niklaswasn’twith Osmond. They stuck together to hunt, to eat, to do anything, really. Osmond had even started joining them at Henroen’s hearth rather than Gustall’s.

“Wow,” Brune finally said, still a little stunned. “I never expected this.”

That made Osmond lift his head. “Do you think…should I?—”