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

throws back his dark hood to reveal closely cropped hair the color of the midnight sky. His skin is rough and calloused from hard days and harsh winds in the mountains. His gray eyes give nothing away as he approaches the king, calmly taking note of every guard, every weapon, every window and every exit. Such is the custom of most border guards; they learn quickly that what most call paranoia is sometimes the only instinct that stands between life and death.

The stranger bows low at his king’s feet.

“Well?” Alaric growls, his patience already worn threadbare. “What’s your name? What brings you away from your post?”

“Sire, I am called Matthais, and I’ve met with someone who I believe is trying to become the first king of Cassé. I bring a message from him: an offering of peace.” The border guard stands, holding up a scroll of paper for the king’s viewing. “He wrote his request for you, but he asked me to speak on his behalf.”

“And you would do such a thing? For a citizen of that land?” Alaric sneers, raising his hand toward Lady Vatusia. One quick motion and she’ll send the man down into the vipers’ pit before he takes another breath.

“Sire, this man has met with me on many occasions in the past,” Matthais persists, holding up the scroll closer to the king’s face, hoping that something on the page will catch his eye. “He came to the Devil’s Spine outposts at a time when he was desperate to save his people from starvation. I used that situation to develop a trade route, of sorts. I kept his people alive. Now he supplies me with everything I ask for. Everything.”

Alaric hesitates, considering the implication of Matthias’s words. “Such an asset should not be tossed aside lightly. You mentioned a peace offering. What was it?”

“He knows the Ddraigs are moving,” Matthias explains quickly, going through his last conversation with Wolf. “He’s willing to help us capture the Ddraigs, so long as we provide him with a weapon that will break his brother’s spirit.” Matthias sucks in a breath, hoping his explanation has convinced the king to look favorably on him.

“You know what he’s asking?” Alaric speaks softly, though his words are not meant for Matthias’s ears.

Lady Vatusia steps out of the shadows as if she’s just materialized from the darkness itself. “It is a rare gift he desires,” she hisses, her eyes sparkling as she considers the request. “Would you ask this of my people?”

“Such an ally is worth the sacrifice, is it not?” Alaric questions, genuinely curious to hear the lady’s response. Are you cruel enough to send one of your own kind over the mountains, not knowing if he or she will survive? Or have I finally found the chink in your armor? The king wonders, assessing Lady Vatusia’s solemn face. Loyalty to her people—a perfectly exploitable weakness. What would you give me to spare the rest of the Vibría from my reign?

Alaric’s hopes quickly deflate when the lady hisses with laughter. A game of cat and mouse then, the king realizes, furious as he watches the lady saunter up to the throne like a wildcat that’s just scented its next meal. She’s taunting me! Wicked woman! I— Alaric sighs as his eye draws down the length of the lady’s lithe and graceful body, only wanting her more.

“There is one among our ranks that would love the chance to test his skills against a Cadogan. I will allow him to go.” Lady Vatusia paces around Matthais, but her eyes never leave the king. “If that is what you desire, of course…sire.” Lady Vatusia half-smiles as she adds the title, barely able to stifle the flash of anger that reddens her cheeks.

Maybe not as in control as she pretends to be, the king declares to himself, sharpening his attention on her blush. “Prepare him to travel then.” Alaric nods once, waving off Matthias as he rises from his throne. “Tell this would-be king that I will expect him to come through on his side of the bargain immediately. Make it clear that if he keeps me waiting, I will not rest until he’s begging for death.”

Alaric breezes through the hallways, eager to be back in his war room. Soon, my enemy will be delivered into my hands! Soon, I will mount the head of a Ddraig on my walls. Soon, my lands will span both sides of the mountains. And soon, the lady will be mine!

Chapter 7

“Try it again,” I coach from the skies, carefully draping my body between the scaled, plate-like protrusions on Siri’s tail. It’s not the safest place to be, but it gives me a full view of the nomads learning to fly with their Ddraigs.

That means I have the perfect vantage point to watch them fail. Every. Single. Time.

“They’re not listening,” Siri huffs, the tip of her tail flicking in annoyance, the smallest, razor sharp scale nearly slicing into my cheek.

“They barely understand your language, Iris. And they won’t trust an outsider,” Drake mumbles as he skirts the sky on my right, his Ddraig’s lips pulling back into a vicious smile.

“I’m not an outsider! I’m their leader,” I assert, wishing I could just cover my ears and ignore them both. Doubts nibble at my thoughts, threatening to devour my mind if I don’t find a means of casting them aside. What if he’s right, Siri? What if I never manage to lead them? I keep failing them, and I don’t know how to stop!

“I just meant that you aren’t a nomad,” Drake replies, unaware of the mental conversation I’m trying to have with Siri. “They see you still as a member of the major houses, and that breeds distrust.”

“But how do I fix that? I can’t take away my past!” I snap, barking another command at one of the nomads as they tumble back to the earth in failure. Safety’s not a concern; none of the Ddraigs would dare to let their Cadogans