Page 8 of Blood Fist

The women blinked. “That…where did you find it?” the chief asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“That’s not all,” Ridan said, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Found that, too.” He jerked his thumb in Corric’s direction.

Four pairs of eyes shot to him. Jonen seemed to realize he was in the way, carefully helping Corric off the pony so he could dismount behind him. Dress dirty and wrinkled, Corric knew he looked less thanpresentable. Nervously, he tried to push some of his tangled hair out of his face, but it was no use.

“Um,” he tried to remember all of his deportment lessons on meeting foreign royalty. “My name is Corric Tylock.” He curtsied, bowing his head.

Ridan erupted into laughter at the sight, bending over his pony with the force of his glee. His mother cuffed him by the back of the neck, dragging him off his pony to land in a dusty heap.

“Quiet,” she snapped, lips pressed together and eyes hard. Ridan grumbled at her feet, rubbing his hip as he stood, a furious blush on his cheeks.

Judging by the seriousness with which she appraised him, she knew who he was. She looked down her nose at him. The alpha was still, the scent of black pepper tickling his nose—acrid and unwelcoming.

Jonen’s mother seemed to sense the tension, and like her son, was the one to break it. With a gentle hand on the chief’s arm, she stepped between them.

“Well,” the beta woman said with a tense smile. “You boys must be famished. Why don’t you go take care of the ponies and I’ll get you some supper.”

Jonen nudged Corric to follow him, but even as they walked away, he could feel the chief’s eyes boring into his back.

The stable the boys led him to was one of the few permanent buildings. It was large, with several corrals set up, and large paddocks in the plain beyond. The horses behind the fences looked sleek, well-muscled, with shiny dappled coats. Corric had never seen so many horses in one place. Of all different ages and sizes, he was too busy enraptured by their twitching muzzles and dark eyes to notice Ridan and Jonen disappearing into the stables. They tended to the ponies quickly, emerging just as Corric worked up the courage to reachin between the boards to coax a foal to sniff at his fingers.

A yowl erupted behind him, scaring the little foal away. Corric turned to see a hulking, gray haired man grabbing Ridan and Jonen. He had them each by the ears, his teeth bared and blue eyes hot with anger.

“Ow! Ow! Osmond stop!” Jonen squeaked, getting up on his tiptoes to try to ease the pressure on his ears. Ridan was busy taking swipes at the big man, his nails sliding off his leather greaves uselessly.

“I nearly had my hide tanned by your mother today!” he seethed; his smile more manic than gleeful. “Do you haveanyidea how much time I spent looking for your scrawny tails?”

“Aw c’mon—” Ridan tried only to whimper in pain when Osmond shook him.

“You think I won’t throw you both into the swamp?A whole day!I have better things to do than chase after a couple of wayward children!”

As he finished, he seemed to notice Corric’s presence. His vicious grin softened to something respectable, and he nodded his head. “Apologies. I didn’t see you there.”

Corric just stared.

“My name is Osmond Snow Tipped, Chief Restrina’s second and a member of her inner guard,” he introduced himself, as if he didn’t have two children dangling by their ears from his fingers.

Osmond was clearly an alpha. He was beefy, broad shouldered with gray hair, though he looked to only be a few years older. His eyes were expressive, and he seemed far more friendly than the grown alphas Corric knew.

“Corric,” he heard himself say, hoping Osmond would not recognize him without his last name.

Osmond nodded, turning his attention back to the other two. “Now, you two are going to go straight home and apologize to your mothers. Do you understand?”

“I don’t have to listen to you,” Ridan growled.

“Sure, you don’t,” Osmond said, his smile brightening. “I guess you don’t want to train, then? It would be a shame for you to have to listen to my instructions. I’m sure you’d rather braid leather with the pups or help Iylah mortar paste?”

“No!” Jonen yelped. “I want to listen to you! We’ll go home!” Even Ridan nodded, eyes wide at the threat. With a final shake, the big alpha dropped them both. The two scrambled out of his reach with fear in their eyes.

Corric didn’t know what training meant, but it was apparently very important to them.

Ridan took off at a run, Jonen close behind. He snagged Corric’s wrist, dragging him with them.

“Nice to meet you, Corric!” Osmond called after him.

He didn’t get to respond, too busy trying not to trip. It was difficult keeping up with them. They ran so easily, legs pumping and breath coming evenly. Corric’s skirts tangled in his legs, his shoes pinched his feet, and his whole body hurt. Before today, he’d never spent much time outside. Omegas didn’t run, they didn’t spend time in the sun, and they certainly didn’t ride horses. His thighs ached, and his back was burning from holding himself up.

But Corric couldn’t stop smiling.