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

once he is free. He needs to hear that you do not hate him and you never meant for him to suffer…unless that isn’t true,” Siri whispers as I settle against her side, chewing on a cooked leg from some unfortunate animal my Ddraig has scorched for me.

“Of course I didn’t want this!” I cry, wondering how Siri could ever think such a horrible thing about me. But, how can I face him now? I accused him of horrible monstrosities, and while I still do not believe he’s completely innocent, he’s also not the fiend I once believed him to be. Where does that leave us? “He must hate me. I sent him back into the claws of his brother. Every pain he’s endured since our separation is my fault. I feel so guilty, Siri.”

“I see,” Siri mumbles, deep in thought. “Wolf’s lost a lot of standing in your eyes, hasn’t he? And Cyrus truly has gained a great deal more of your attention.”

“I…I don’t know what to think about either one of them,” I hedge, tossing my half-eaten meal away. “I can’t afford to dwell on it right now. There’s too much at stake.” Although, deep down I know that my words are a lie. My mind cannot let go of the worries that echo like moaning ghosts in my head.

“You will find him greatly changed,” Siri informs, her voice sounding small. “We will find them both very different from the way they left us.”

Suryc. I’ve given very little thought to what he’s endured, watching Cyrus tortured, helpless and unable to step in to save him. No doubt he will hate me too. That thought is almost too much to bear. Suryc’s been nothing but kind to me, and I’ve put him through hell too. What is wrong with me? I’m no better at leading than Cyrus was. My heart stops beating at the thought, aware of how he must have felt every day in the House of Vultures. What a terrible life it is to be a leader; you can never do what’s best for all of your people, can you? Maybe Cyrus put me through hell because he thought I was strong enough to endure it….

I pass the rest of the evening in brooding silence, dozing off as the first stars wink to life in the sky. At around midnight, when the moon is high overhead, something startles me awake. A hollow cry like the sound of an owl echoes through the forest. Leaning back against my sleeping Ddraig, I listen for the sounds in the forest, feeling wary when I distinctly do not hear the rustling of crickets or buzzing of cicadas.

Yet when the owl’s hoot reaches my ears again, my heart drops in my chest. That’s not right, I tell myself as my breathing catches in my throat. That sound is different, like it’s coming from a human voice. Siri, wake up! Someone’s here.

Siri’s large silver eye blinks to life immediately, her sensitive ears pricking as she searches for any sign of intruders. There’s a group of unmasked people at the edge of the forest, maybe twenty or so. They are watching us, debating whether or not to attack. They suspect that we are from Déchets. How do you want to do this?

I’m afraid that if I speak, they will attack out of fear. A shiver overtakes me despite Siri’s warmth at my back. What do you suggest?

I’d call out to them anyway while they are at a distance, Siri advises with a sigh. If you wait until they are close, the results of their attack would be much more severe. Right now, if they charged us, we could just fly away.

On trembling knees, I rise. No matter how many times I make this kind of speech, the fear of rejection and the uncertainty of an upcoming battle that will lead to death never seems to leave me. As I had done with the minor markets, I hold my hands over my head and prepare to share the same story with these newcomers.

Nameless unchosen nomads. How many more Cadogans do you really think we will find among them? They are the lowest, weakest people in Cassé, I question Siri as I hear them scuttle closer to the protection of the trees.

And yet they have survived without the protection of a major house, Siri muses with a snort. Perhaps they are the strongest ones. We won’t know until the other Ddraigs meet them, will we?

An arrow thwacks into the ground between my feet, halting my progress forward. “I’m not from Déchets!” I cry, hoping my words will keep the nameless from perfecting their aim and attacking. “Let me explain, please!” I share my entire story, including my past life in the House of Vultures.

At the mention of my former house, one of the men steps forward, a young boy sitting on his shoulders. His voice is deep and hoarse as he calls to me. “The man called Condor belongs with you?”

“You know him?” I feel a string of hope tugging on my heart. Maybe they’ve seen him, Siri! Maybe we are close!

“He saved my son,” the man replies, his hands tightening around the boy’s skinny legs as if he’s assuring himself that the child is still alive. “We were travelling through the forests around the House of Piranhas when the Wolf and his pack stumbled into our midst. They attacked us, and we lost many from our ranks that day. I would have lost my son too. Condor was able to stay between Wolf and my boy, allowing him the chance to run to freedom. I’m afraid the action cost your friend dearly, although judging by the looks of him, he was already suffering.” His mouth drops into a more severe frown, but his eyes are soft, as though the man has bad news he’s reluctant to share, afraid of how I will respond. “I…I think you should prepare yourself for the worst. Wolf fired