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

bares his teeth, and the image is eerily similar to that of my vision. “We’re in trouble, Siri. He’s never going to let us lead without a fight.”

“Get everyone up now!” Siri roars as she stares into the distance. “We’ve got bigger troubles! There’s a group of nomads in the tree line. They noticed us in the fields, and they are about to attack. Take to the skies! Get off the ground now! Go!” Siri’s fire blazes like a silver shooting star as she pinches me into her claws and jumps into the sky. I barely make it off the ground before I feel an arrow whiz beside my ear.

A couple of echoing screams alert me to my greatest fear—someone in our camp was struck. We have injured Cadogans. The arrows appear to be too flimsy to harm our Ddraigs, but the thought of anyone wounded feels personal. How am I supposed to keep everyone safe?

“What do we do? Iris?” Enomena wails as Anemone immediately secures her position just over my right shoulder.

I scan the ground below us, helplessly watching the new recruits stumble through the tall grasses. They are a clumsy mess of disjointed movements and fearful quivering. If I could hurry them along by sheer force of will, I would do so.

“Iris! How can we help?” Lerual reiterates Enomena’s question with a high-pitched shriek.

“I…Siri?” I stumble for an answer, unsure how I can be of use. Battle cries erupt from the nomads as they charge upon my pitiful excuse for an army. They point their long stakes at the hearts of the Ddraigs, forming a circle to close off any escape on foot. “Get in the air, you fools!” I snarl, watching in disbelief as the frightened Cadogans freeze in the faces of their foes.

“Wait! Don’t hurt them!” Drake demands, soaring low over the heads of the nomads. He fearlessly bats away the stakes as they thrust in his direction, lithely jumping off Ekard’s back once he’s in the heart of the battle. Crouching low, he clicks his tongue in a sound that reminds me of a beetle hissing on a warm summer night.

The effect of that noise is immediate. Angry shouts cease, weapons are lowered uncertainly, and a couple of braver nomads answer the beetle call with their own. Drake stands tall, holding his hands wide as he approaches the strangers. “My friends! Come closer and see what amazing things I have discovered!”

“We’re coming down.” I raise my voice, but the words go unnoticed. The nomads surround Drake, brushing the marks on his arms and face as they speak in a strange language that I do not recognize. It’s their own tongue, Siri explains when she feels my confusion. Only a member of this nomadic tribe would be able to understand their language.

“How many nomadic groups are there?” I murmur as a new fear envelops me. If the nomads do not speak the master language of Cassé, how can I ever hope to tell them about the Ddraigs?

“Lots,” Siri grunts, and I feel my heart sink. “We’ll figure it out, Iris.” I wish I believed her.

Ekard smiles wickedly as he allows one of the nomads to brush his scaly side. He flashes his teeth at me in a challenge as his Cadogan explains our purpose for travelling through these lands. He’s doing my job, I grumble to Siri in complaint. He’s already acting like the leader of the Ddraigs.

“And garnering allies too,” Siri adds as we watch a few of the nomads slip out of the masses, drawn to the sides of certain Ddraigs. We find at least fifteen Cadogans from Drake’s tribe, and with each passing one, I feel my shoulders hunch as my worries grow too heavy for me to carry them alone.

“They will be his army.” My voice sounds as lifeless as a leaf in the heart of the winter. “Our enemy’s gaining ground with each passing second, Siri.” For surely these nomads will support Drake over an unknown leader.

“Leave it to me,” Siri whispers as she throws open her wings and roars, demanding attention. She addresses the crowd of onlookers in their native tongue, ignoring Ekard’s murderous scowl at being upstaged.

Drake demurely bows his head, but I can see the tiniest clenching of his jaw. He stomps over to my side and points a finger at me, his long nail almost grazing the tip of my nose. “I wasn’t saying anything against you. I’d already told them that you were in charge. But they are my friends, and I deserve the right to speak to them—”

“Did I say you’ve done something wrong?” I snap, my nerves raw. “Siri’s just establishing her right to rule. And I should be with her.” I exaggerate my pose, throwing my shoulders back as I move to stand beside my Ddraig. It takes a great deal of willpower not to run away or turn around to make sure Drake isn’t about to thrust a knife in between my ribs.

As I move, Ekard stalks closer, his crimson eyes reminding me of the pool of blood I’d fallen into in my dream vision. His lips pull back into a sneering smile, almost as if he can read my thoughts. “You know, only the weak and insecure feel the need to assert their control in every situation,” Ekard hisses, waving his claws dismissively toward Siri.

I bristle at his insult, but I do not rise to the bait. I will not let him see how much I fear his words to be accurate, I command myself, barely breathing so that I do not visibly react. Yet the traitorous voice in my head keeps whispering. Insignificant. Weak. Useless. He’s going to beat you and Siri because he is right. You were never meant to be in control. Not at the House of Vultures, and certainly not here among the Ddraigs.

Ekard towers over me to intimidate me, his voice barely a growl as he questions, “How long do you think Siri will