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

“You did this, Cyrus. Why did you hurt me like this?”

The sound of its screams raises the hair on Cyrus’s arms. It’s not her, he struggles to remind himself as the monster on the floor continues to twitch.

“I thought you cared for me!” Her eyes begin to fade unnaturally white, as though her life force is bleeding out of her with every shuddering breath.

It’s not her. I saw it change. It’s not Iris on the floor. Cyrus feels the tears pouring down his cheeks even as the monster writhes on the ground. “I didn’t—”

The Iris creature wails, her arms thrashing out wildly. “Please, Cyrus, please! Don’t argue! It only makes this worse!”

“Enough,” Wolf interjects from his vantage point on the couch. Calmly watching the scene, Wolf smiles at the broken Iris monster writhing on the floor as if he wasn’t affected by the image of her death. “Let me speak to my brother a moment.”

“As you desire,” the being responds, disappearing from view before their very eyes. It’s not her. She’s not hurt. Iris is alive and well and with the rest of the Ddraigs. Cyrus tries and fails to find relief in his thoughts as Wolf looms close. Right, Suryc? Right? If the veil has lifted in their minds so that Suryc can answer, Cyrus’s mind cannot comprehend the words through his terror.

“Here’s what I want, brother: you will tell me everything you know about the Ddraigs. You will share with me the details of Iris’s plans. You will present your own Ddraig to me. Don’t try to deny that he is close by; I heard his roaring in the distance. You will give me everything I want. Then, maybe, I will find myself feeling merciful and will end your suffering quickly.”

“What was that thing?” Cyrus demands, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

“They call themselves the Vibría,” Wolf explains indulgently, leaning over to inspect Cyrus’s wounds. “Particularly nasty little creatures, aren’t they?” Wolf carefully brushes a bead of sweat from Cyrus’s face, holding it up to his eye level. “Now, will you give me what I desire? Or should I call him back?”

“And if I don’t?” Cyrus shivers as he inquires, already knowing the answer.

“Then you will watch the ones you love die a thousand deaths. That monster will play out your worst nightmares every hour until you break,” Wolf sneers, his eyes growing unnaturally wide as hysteria drives his voice to a high-pitched shriek. “How long do you think you can last against him?”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Cyrus wails, stalling for time as he considers his options. How do I get out of this? Suryc? What am I to do? No answer comes from his Ddraig, and Cyrus’s body freezes with indecision. Panic claws at his vocal cords, choking all sound from his throat. So overwrought with fear, Cyrus barely hears his brother’s response.

“All you really need to know is that I will succeed,” Wolf growls, slamming a fist hard in Cyrus’s jaw. “You’re a glutton for punishment, little brother. Some part of you earnestly believes you deserve to be beaten, don’t you? It’s a sick kind of penitence for all the wrong you’ve done! I know I could torture your body for years, and I’d never tear you down completely. However, the mind is a far easier thing to destroy.” Wolf leans close, his lips brushing Cyrus’s ear like a betrayer’s kiss. The touch could almost be considered brotherly and affectionate, were it not for the threats spewing from Wolf’s lips. “I know your weaknesses. I know the love you harbor for my woman. How long do you think you can bear watching Iris get tortured? How long will you listen to her screams before you give me what I want?”

Cyrus. The soft murmur of his Ddraig’s voice filters through Cyrus’s already rattled mind. You have to get out of there. I cannot save you from that monster. Please, you’ll have to figure out a means of helping yourself. I can create a distraction, if you are able to run, and—

I cannot get loose, Suryc. So, tell me more stories about Iris, Cyrus commands, struggling to calm his erratic breathing as he prepares for the Vibría’s torture once more. Now, before that abomination comes back in here and closes our bond. Give me all the details that you can.

It won’t be enough, Cyrus! The monster you’re fighting is far stronger than your feelings for her, especially since you two aren’t fully coupled. You’ll never survive this kind of torture. Please, don’t do this, Cadogan. Suryc’s voice breaks, his roar rattling the dilapidated walls as he grieves. I cannot bear your death, Cyrus. Please get out of there!

I’m sorry, Suryc. Cyrus turns a defiant eye on his brother, his body growing unnaturally still. Mustering all his courage, he whispers. “I will never give you what you seek. You may do your worst, but I will not surrender!”

Wolf claps his hands together, triumph written on his features. “Oh, I will! I absolutely will! And when you are begging me to let you die, I will remind you of this moment. That I mercifully gave you a means of escape, and you spat it back in my face. The only one to blame for your future now is yourself!” Turning back to the door, Wolf calls out, “You may come back! Our friend has decided not to cooperate.”

“Good,” the boy replies, his body slowly materializing like dew collecting on the edge of a flower. His eyes sparkle with brilliant emerald flashes, cruelly assessing his victim with the smile of a predator. A small bubble of laughter ripples from the creature, his mouth opening too wide as he shouts, “Let’s see how long he can last against me!”

***

“Please, Son! Why are you doing this?” Hawk’s burly form lies on the ground beside Cyrus’s battered body.

Has it been hours or days? Cyrus wonders, wishing he could close his eyes and wipe