Pack of Wolves - Maggie Claire (most popular novels of all time .TXT) 📗

raises the whip again, aiming to throw the lash right across Cyrus’s throat. Just before he can unleash the tension in his arm, Wolf hears footsteps at the door of the House of Vultures.

“What are you doing to him?” Fox demands, aghast to find his leader torturing the broken body on the table. Fox’s fingers grip the doorway so tightly that his knuckles are white. “Wolf! Explain yourself!”

Wolf hunches low over Cyrus’s body, turning his maniacal rage on Fox. He growls as he watches Fox shuffle on his feet. The wolf mask combined with Wolf’s animalistic manner unnerves Fox. It’s almost as though the man is gone and only the beast remains.

“I explain nothing to you, old man!” Wolf snarls, brandishing the whip as he waits for Fox to move. “Come too close, and I’ll tan your hide even worse than I’ve done to my brother!”

Fox freezes, hands raised in defeat as he pleads, “You have to stop this, Wolf! Your brother looks to be unconscious, shattered, and probably dead. Whatever his crimes, he is your family!”

“All the more reason for me to kill him,” Wolf whispers callously, turning a hateful eye to inspect his brother’s body in triumph. “You know the unwritten rule in our land; families who find each other, even if by accident, must fight to the death.”

“Yes, but—”

“Then what’s the problem?” Wolf’s voice sounds lifeless as he rationalizes killing his brother.

Fox shakes his head, amazed that Wolf can be so cruel to his own family. “Haven’t you punished him enough?” Fox waits for a response, his hands quaking as he waits for Wolf to come to his senses. “Look, if you are going to kill him, then at least make it quick. Suffering solves nothing!”

Wolf’s throws his head back with a dark laugh, his voice booming. “Not a chance! He deserves to draw near the brink of death many times over for all the wickedness he’s done. Will you treat his wounds, Fox? Patch him up as best you can.”

“So you can repeat this procedure? Never!” Fox exclaims vehemently, anger building in his voice. “He’s not a plaything for your entertainment, Wolf! He’s flesh and bone! He’s your kin! You are better than this!”

“Maybe I was once, but I am no longer,” Wolf replies, wiping his chin with blood-soaked hands. “He deserves everything he’s getting, and so much more!”

“I will not help you do this. If you want him healed, then give him some of your own strength,” Fox answers coldly, steeling himself against his leader and friend. “There is a small mercy for him at least, for while you heal him you also weaken yourself. It will give him a fighting chance for recovery.”

“I don’t want him hurt! I want him wrecked! Eviscerated and mangled, with his blood painting the walls of my bed chamber. I want to hear his mind crack, until the only words he can speak are gibberish.” Wolf pauses, facing Cyrus’s body in thought. “But this isn’t the way to do that.”

Fox, feeling a measure of wary relief, approaches Wolf’s side. “I’m glad you see that, Wolf.”

“I need something more than physical torture to end him,” Wolf continues, ignoring Fox’s stunned expression. Brushing the healer aside, Wolf reaches for his cloak. “Guard the door and let no one enter this place. I must seek a greater weapon for this task.” He races down the porch, his mind so clouded in thought that Wolf doesn’t stop to wonder if Fox will obey.

“Gods, he did a number on you,” Fox cringes as he assesses Cyrus’s wounds. “I know I said I wouldn’t help you, but I can’t leave you here like this. These wounds will get infected, although death by necrosis may be more alluring than whatever your brother has in mind. I’ll fix you up, then figure out some way to get you out of here!” Fox hurries out to the fire, putting a kettle onto the coals for hot water. While it warms, he rummages through his medical kits to find some gauzy bandages.

Returning to his charge, Fox manages to clean the wounds and slow the bleeding before a pair of strong hands wrap around his shoulders. “Wolf said no one inside, Fox. That includes you!” Jackal smiles as he jerks the healer away from Cyrus’s bound body.

“You can’t be serious! He’ll die if those wounds don’t get treatment,” Fox persists, struggling against Jackal’s iron grip.

“I have my orders,” Jackal replies, whistling over his shoulder. Immediately Hyena yips, bounding through the kitchen to the aid of his friend. “Now, are you going to walk out of this house willingly, or do I tell Hyena to tie you into the traitor bonds?”

“I…I’m sorry,” Fox cries over his shoulder as Jackal shoves him willingly toward the door. Together they stumble out onto the half-scorched steps, leaving Fox to worry over the fate of the prisoner left inside.

Cyrus heaves a broken sigh as the motion from the men leaving the room causes air to brush across his open wounds. The breeze is like a blade jamming between his bones, splintering sinew and muscle slowly as it writhes across his skin. “Suryc? Can you hear me?” He sobs, locking his jaw as agony washes over him once more.

No response comes from his Ddraig, not even through their mental connection. No shiver of recognition or flutter of acknowledgment. Nothing. Lying on his makeshift torture table, Cyrus feels isolation wrap around him like a smothering blanket. Staring up at the ceiling, Cyrus wills the hours to pass quickly as his mind wreaks havoc on his nerves. How long has it been since Wolf left? How long will I be stuck here? Will Suryc come close enough to hear my call? And what happened to Wren? Did he see Wolf leave? Did he follow?

“These constant questions are more draining than anything else Wolf’s done to me,” Cyrus mutters aloud with a hysterical giggle. Darker thoughts arise, replacing his unanswered wonderings with their brutal cruelty. Suryc has abandoned me;