Page 66 of Blood Fist

“If you think I won’t rip those gems right from your head?—”

“Don’t start something you won’t finish, omega.” Her voice was rough, eyes dark with something that could be a challenge or something more salacious.

“Speak plainly, omega,” he snapped back.

“The Strong Leg is not in need of anything. But we are looking to expand. Where and when is my business, but when the time comes, I want to know if we can count on the Stone Blade’s help?”

Ridan kept the surprise off his face. The Strong Leghad plenty of land. They had farms in addition to their boats and gem mines. If Areine was suggesting expanding territory, it must be something beyond necessity. He wasn’t foolish enough to think she’d tell him if he asked.

“That could be arranged,” he conceded, taking a risk he wasn’t sure he should. “But in addition, I want to increase trade between our clans.”

Her scent flared victorious. “Deal.” She stood, letting her fingers brush across the tabletop as she approached him. Extending a tanned palm to him, she lifted him to his feet. He didn’t notice before, but she had metal rings wrapped around her fingers. Each one had a vicious point filed into it.

“I look forward to being allies, Chief Ridan,” she purred, looking very much like he’d just stumbled into her trap.

The festival was massive. Merchants set up tents and tables as far as the eye could see. A field of multicolor canvas ebbing on the wind kicked up along the flatlands they’d settled on. According to Corric, this was as equidistant to the four clans as possible, and they’d been having their festivals here for generations.

While the shops were clearly the biggest function of the festival, the real highlight was the fighting ring. Set up much like the one they had at home; it was a flat circle circled by a hastily erected fence. Someone had brought archery targets, but they were pushed against the far fence to let the far more popular contests go on.

Brune leaned on the fence, watching two alphas beat each other into the dirt. When he’d asked, Jonen and Corric explained the fights could be anything from showcasing talent, to feuds, to challenges, and evenimpressing potential mates. Ridan told him on their walk back from the Shrieking Cliffs that Chief Restrina had met his father in one such fight.

“Will you fight?” Brune asked Corric and Jonen. They were standing beside him, charitably answering all his questions.

Jonen shrugged. “I…” he glanced over at Corric from the corner of his eye. “Maybe,” he hedged.

Whatever was plaguing Corric and Jonen seemed to resolve itself. Whether it was fixed, or the pack just decided comforting each other in the wake of Restrina’s death was more important. Brune didn’t ask. It wasn’t his business; he was just glad their mixed scents weren’t burning his nose anymore.

Derry had been with them, but he took off the moment he caught sight of his potential suitor. Corric made a face when he did, but when asked, all he did was shrug and say, “She’s from the Iron Jaw.” And refused to elaborate.

They watched several fights—some with weapons and some without. He was getting hungry—there were some heavenly smells coming from the market—when Ridan joined them.

His face was gaunt. Lips curled in that way that told Brune he was thinking too hard. Despite that, wearing his cloak, a simple tied shirt, and hair braided back with clay beads and teeth, he looked regal. It wasn’t really his clothes, though. He wasn’t dressed dissimilarly to anyone else—especially some of the chiefs Brune had seen. It was the way he carried himself, unapologetically, with a hand on his sword and eyes up.

“How was it?” Brune asked, not sure what a meeting of the chief’s entailed.

Ridan grunted. “About what you’d expect.”

“Alpha’s trying to gag you with their scent to makeup for the fact that you’re an omega and have twice the land they have?” Corric guessed.

That made Ridan grin.

Now that Brune was paying attention, Ridan did reek of alpha. Something coppery clung to his skin, and it made his teeth ache. He wanted to grab Ridan, rub his wrists against every inch of him until that other alpha’s scent was nothing but dust in the wind.

He held onto the fence instead, fingers digging into the wood.

“Thewn?” Jonen guessed. Ridan nodded and it made Jonen’s scent sour. “Why haven’t they challenged him yet?”

Brune looked between them until Corric took pity on him. “Thewn is the chief of Strong Jaw. He’s a solid warrior, and decent enough chief, but he’s bigoted towards most things. His views have seen much of his clan leaving to joining other clans.”

Suddenly, he understood why Ridan looked so tired. Not only was he navigating the meeting for the first time, but he was also busy defending his strength. Something that shouldn’t be in question at all.

He slung his arm around Ridan’s neck, drawing the omega in. “Forget dusty old alphas and watch the fights. Watching someone cry will make you feel better.”

Ridan stared at him from under his thick arm, but didn’t push him off. A small smile ghosted along his lips.

They watched a few fights, Brune leaning close to hear Ridan’s commentary. While the omega usually kept to himself, he couldn’t help but point out his observations. Ridan saw things Brune never would have. It helped that he stayed beside Brune, so close they were practically touching. Brune had to physically bite down on his tongue to keep from chuffing.

Anomega from Stone Blade hopped into the ring. Her blonde ringlets were pulled back off her face with a leather band. She was tall and willowy, lean, wearing nothing but a soft pair of linen pants and a leather band across her breasts. Brune didn’t recognize her, but she certainly recognized their little group. Her eyes widened the moment she saw them.