Pack of Wolves Maggie Claire (large ebook reader txt) 📖

friend to appear. It has been a few weeks now since he’d last appeared in her tree, and apprehension tears her tender heart in two. “Did I do something wrong?” She whimpers as she shares her sorrows with the moon, for its cold, faceless image is the only companion that will listen to her now. Tears well in Cyrus’s eyes when she presses her hand to the glass and whispers, “Why didn’t he come back? Where is my boy from the woods?”

“How long did she watch for me?” Cyrus sniffs, his hands straining in their binds, lifting off the table as if to brush the phantom Iris’s face. “I should have returned, if only once, to explain why I was gone. But I was so afraid that she would hate me because of my scars. I was sure I would frighten her away.”

If you had returned, your brother would have found you. Every night after your supposed death, he hid near Iris’s window, watching over her from afar. Suryc manipulates the shared image in their minds, pointing out Wolf’s lithe form hiding in the tall grasses near the forest’s edge.

Did he hurt her? Cyrus demands, fury simmering to the surface once more as he waits for Suryc’s answer. If he touched her, if he wronged her in any way, I will kill him!

He did nothing, just observed her from a distance. I think her sorrow at your loss shamed him into some measure of regret. He never worked up the nerve to go to her, Suryc explains, his voice soft with his pity.

No more, Cyrus croaks as Iris’s tear-stained eyes burn into his memory. I can bear to see no more of this, Suryc. At least, not right now. But when my brother returns, when he tortures me again—and I am certain he will—remind me of her. Show me more of Iris’s memories; maybe that will keep me focused in spite of the pain. Cyrus does not hear a response before exhaustion beckons him once more into a fitful, nightmarish sleep.

***

“Why have you come back so soon?” whispers the voice of a shrouded figure at the base of a huge oak tree at the edge of the forest close to the Devil’s Spine. “I saw you here only a few days ago. What news could you possibly have learned since then?”

“There is much to share,” Wolf answers triumphantly, even as he shifts from his hiding place at the base of a ragged looking elm, unnerved to be so close to the meadow that leads to the border guards’ lands. It feels strange to be in the shadow of the mountains, Wolf declares to himself as he removes his carcass mask. It’s like they are watching me, turning their disapproving eyes to my business. Absurd as it may sound, Wolf cannot shake the feeling from his bones.

“I’m waiting,” the stranger yawns, picking at his dirty fingernails in feigned disinterest.

“There’s a price, as always.” Wolf replies as he lithely moves to stand before the hooded man, making sure to keep out of arms reach. Even though he’s done business with him for many years, Wolf knows not to over-trust certain alliances beyond a handshake and a carefully concealed knife.

A bag of gold rattles on the shrouded man’s belt. “Usual price if the information is valuable?”

Wolf pretends not to see the way his free hand inches toward the hilt of the sword at his waist.

“No,” Wolf counters, holding his hands with his palms facing out in surrender. As he speaks, the memory of his brother’s face resurfaces in his mind’s eye, bringing a sneer to his lips. “I need something other than gold this time. My people have all they need for the time being. Besides, there is something else I desire far more than money now.”

“Name your price then.” The man waits, scanning the horizon for any signs of intruders before they begin their haggling.

“My brother has returned to my life, and I want to break him. Your people have special weapons and such for that kind of work, don’t you?” Wolf asks, forcing his feet not to pace with the depths of his anxiousness. I don’t just want to kill my brother, I want to see him broken until he is nothing more than a useless, babbling fool.

“We have our ways, but what you ask for is a steep fee. Your information would need to be priceless in order to merit such a transaction.” The hooded man turns his head as though sizing up Wolf and finding him wanting. He sniffs once, waving his hand as he questions, “What could you possibly have to offer me now?”

Plenty, Wolf thinks, smiling at his own cleverness. I never tell all that I know—that way I have bargaining chips for times like these. “I seek to build a master house and become the first king of Cassè,” Wolf whispers with glee, relishing the way the shrouded man stops breathing. “Think of what your leader will say, how he will reward you, when he learns that you have earned my trust.”

“Not good enough,” the shrouded man replies, turning to retreat. Wolf can hear the hateful scorn in his words. “Our kind don’t share secrets with dogs like you for nothing; I’m sure you can understand.”

Wolf nods once even as the nape of his neck bristles with the slight. Watch him squirm when he hears what else I have to say. “The Ddraigs are moving out of the Pith in search of their warriors. They are coming for my pack.” It is a struggle not to laugh as Wolf observes the change in the hooded man’s posture. He straightens in his stance, immediately turning back to face Wolf. That alone is proof enough that Wolf will win this bargain. His fingers itch with delight as he imagines wielding a secret weapon from Déchets. How long will it take before Cyrus finally collapses?

“You’re certain of this? How did you come by such information?” The