Direbound (The Wolves of Ruin #1)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

A fter I leave the recruitment center, I head straight to find Lee, my breath puffing into the frosty air. I pull my threadbare coat tighter against myself, wishing I had a scarf—but I stormed out of the house with such certainty this morning that I didn’t even think of it.

Lee’s only at his small apartment a handful of days each week and otherwise stays up at the castle’s servant dormitories, but I know his schedule, and he should be home today. My mind is circling, and I set my jaw and study the scenery of Northern as I walk, determinedly putting tomorrow from my mind.

There will be time to panic later. But right now, I need to explain myself to Lee.

The Northern Quarter, the neighborhood closest to the imposing castle, isn’t as alien as the Bonded’s streets, but it’s still very different from Eastern.

The buildings are taller. The roads are more spacious. There are no stray dogs scrounging for scraps. Most obviously, there’s no smell. The air isn’t clean, but it doesn’t reek like too many people crammed into too little space.

The fresher air does nothing to calm my nerves, though. I’ve been spiraling out ever since I signed the recruitment forms.

I want him to understand. Need him to, really. Lee is my anchor, keeping me in place when the wild tides of my own emotion threaten to pull me into deeper water. If he looks at me like I’m insane when I give him the news, it’s going to be difficult not to second-guess myself.

And there’s no room for second-guessing now.

Lee’s building is half-timbered like mine, but wide and four stories tall, all divided up into small units and mostly inhabited by other royal servants. He lives here alone, in his own tidy space, though he grew up in Northern as well.

Like Lee, his father works in the palace, but their relationship is strained and difficult. His father sounds like, well, an asshole. And his mother passed away when Lee was a child. When he got his messenger job as a teenager, he immediately moved out of his father’s place and into his own space.

Reaching his stoop, I push through the front entry and up the stairs to find him, my stomach twisting and turning. The idea of disappointing him makes me want to shed my own skin.

I knock on his door. There’s a thud from one of the neighboring apartments. I can hear shouting from the floor above me. My heart is pounding in my chest. My fingers are still cold from the wintry air, so I breathe on them to give myself something to do.

There’s a click before the door swings open. And…

I don’t know. Seeing him, suddenly everything is alright. I can’t remember why I was anxious. That’s how it is, with Lee. I take one look at his tall figure silhouetted in the doorway—his broad shoulders, his untucked shirt, his slightly messy dark blond hair, like he just woke from a nap—and I feel safe.

His hand lingers on the door. I watch his grip tighten when he realizes it’s me. Lee’s eyes are such a beautiful crystalline blue, like the sky on a surprisingly cold winter’s day, even in this darkened hall.

“Kitten,” he rasps, warmth lacing his voice. “You’re back.”

I know instantly what he means— I’m back. I’ve banished that part of me capable of falling apart entirely, the part who wept while he held her. She’s still here, deep inside, but I refuse to let her control me for another moment.

“I’m back,” I agree. And wait until you hear what I’ve done…

His strong arm closes around my waist and he yanks me into the apartment, the heat of his hard body flush against me. Lee tucks a lock of my dark hair behind my ear, kicks the door shut, and says, “Good. I missed you.”

Then that gaze of his drops lower, raking over my body, and I’m suddenly not thinking of anything other than this moment. The heat in his gaze flips a switch in my brain, and my whole body reacts with the need to curl against him and surrender to it. My skin tingles. My damn toes curl in my boots.

But as he lifts his head and I catch that hungry gaze again, it all comes crashing back.

This isn’t why I came here.

“I need to tell you something,” I blurt, pressing a hand to his chest.

His eyes dart between mine briefly, like he’s trying to figure out how serious I am. Then he nods, taking me by the hand and leading me into his kitchen, his only seating area other than his bed. He pulls out a wooden chair for me and gestures to it.

“Talk to me,” he says as he sits in the chair beside mine. His gaze is steady, his posture relaxed.

Like pulling a splinter, I tell myself. “I enlisted so that I can go to the front and find Saela.”

For a moment, he doesn’t react at all. He’s completely unmoving, still staring at me steadily. I start to wonder if this is worse than if he’d immediately pointed out my recklessness. The not knowing is punishing.

And then he shuts his eyes and sighs deeply. His hand lifts to pinch the bridge of his nose, and despair radiates from him in waves. And no, this is definitely worse than the silence.

“Oh, kitten. What have you done?” He opens his eyes again and levels me with a look filled with both love and heartbreak.

My vulnerability turns me into an asshole. I bristle instantly. “I had to, Lee.” My voice is as sharp as a knife. “No one is doing anything. Someone has to be down there who cares about the missing kids, who will look for them.” My hand clenches into a fist. I hate this. “It’s Saela . How can you not understand that?”

The question sounds like an accusation, but Lee doesn’t lower himself to my level. The injured fondness in his eyes doesn’t waver, even as I try to bite his head off.

“I do understand,” he tells me. And just like that, I’m not angry any longer. Because the way he said it, I know he meant it.

Lee takes another deep breath and leans back, letting his arm rest on the table beside us. His long fingers scratch absently at the wood grain. Then his face pinches slightly. It looks like pain. Or guilt, maybe. Frustration. Some mix of foul feelings.

“If I could, I would go in your place to find her,” he says finally. Quietly.

The royals hire their servants from the children of servants, generation after generation. They make better salaries than most, but once they enter the king’s service, they’re expected to serve for life, no exceptions.

“I would do anything for you, Meryn. But this…”

I wince. “You think I’m crazy?”

His expression tightens. “I don’t,” he growls. The ferocity of his reply sounds like a threat against anyone who’d dare question me. “The timing is just… fucking awful.”

“The timing?”

He reaches up and pushes his fingers through his thick hair, then lets his hand drop to his knee. “There are about to be Bonding Trials.”

His words are like a punch to the gut.

Bonding Trials… a chance to become one of the King’s precious Bonded forces, and to form an unbreakable connection with a massive, vicious direwolf.

If that’s true, it means I might never even make it to the front. The Bonding Trials are just as dangerous as the war, from what I’ve heard.

A ragged rush of air chokes up my lungs. “How do you… know that?”

There’s no way he could, right? Bonding Trials happen sporadically, and are kept a closely guarded secret so as not to deter soldiers from enlisting. When one is about to happen, every newly enlisted recruit is required to attempt to bond, without exception.

“I overheard whispers in the castle. They’ve already sent out missives for the instructors,” Lee says. His brow is tight. He isn’t looking at me. And I know why.

I’ve just told him that I’m going to throw myself into the most dangerous place possible, and he knows me too well to try to talk me out of it. There’s nothing he can do, and Lee hates that. He’s always hated not being able to act, maybe as much as I do.

“I’m still going,” I tell him. “I have to.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, they’re going to make you do the first Trial. From what I’ve heard, it’s a perilous mountain climb, and the direwolves are at the top. But you don’t need to try to bond with one. All you need to do is survive. As long as you do that and avoid bonding, you’ll be sent along to the front with the rest of the commoner soldiers afterwards.”

I take a deep, shaky breath. That doesn’t sound terrifying at all. “Okay.”

His eyes find mine again, and they burn with an intensity that makes me feel powerful. “If anyone can survive it, it will be you,” he tells me firmly. Courage catches like a bonfire in my chest. “Fight, Meryn. Win. Find Saela and come back to me.”

“I will. I—I love you, Lee.”

“I love you, too,” he says, reaching out to cup my cheek gently.

We’ve said the words to each other before, but today they sound different.

Today, I love you sounds an awful lot like goodbye .

I need to banish the sound of it from my mind, and there’s one surefire way to quiet all my thoughts. Lee catches my change in mood, stroking my cheek with his thumb, then scratching his nails lightly down my neck and across my shoulder. In a heartbeat, my desperation to have him on top of me, inside of me, gets so searing that my skin grows hot with it.

I reach for Lee and yank him to me by his shirt.

He is over me instantly, on his feet and kissing me with a scorching heat as one of his hands closes around the back of my chair and the other around my neck. And just like that, I’m no longer in control.

My grip on his shirt goes limp as his tongue meets mine, the slick heat of his kiss sinking bliss through my muscles. A needy sound escapes me as I pull weakly at his shirt, and his returning chuckle goes straight to my core.

Neither of us utters a word as our eyes meet again, the intensity in his gaze making me gasp. His big hands slide down my back to my ass, and then in one quick move he’s lifted me up and laid me out right there against the kitchen floor, bending me back, following to claim me in a kiss.

I fall backward, arms dropping from his neck to brace myself. The icy cool of the kitchen floor presses into my arms, my rear, my lower back, even as Lee’s heat warms me, making me shiver in pleasure.

Lee’s mouth licks a trail of fire from my earlobe down to the hollow of my neck, where he suckles, teasing his teeth over my sensitive skin. My head falls back, knocking against the floor.

His mouth disappears, and I prop myself up on an elbow, only for my arm to go weak as he yanks my trousers down past my hips, tearing through my underwear in a single motion. I stare at him, my breathing heavy. His lips curve in a possessive smile, and my body floods with heat.

Slowly, he rises up to his knees and undoes the laces at the front of his own trousers, and I moan as I watch his cock spring free, already achingly hard. He rubs the heel of his hand over the head, once, twice, as I squirm in front of him.

Every part of me wants to grab him and wrap my legs around him, take him inside me immediately, but I know from past experience that right now, he’s in charge, not me.

Lee leans forward and drags my tunic up to my neck, pulling off the breast bindings I wear in two short tugs, exposing my breasts. My already-hard nipples tingle in the cool air, and I almost leap off the floor when his fingers tweak my left nipple, hard.

He palms my other breast, then alternates between stroking and pinching my breasts until I’m a mess of moans. Finally, finally he drags a hand down my belly, arousal curling through me as he presses me into the ground, then bends down and pushes his hands against my inner thighs, spreading me wide.

I’m already dripping with need, my sensitive flesh clenching at the hot air of his breath against me. Every part of me feels empty, waiting for him to fill me, make me whole.

The first brush of his tongue is so sinful that I almost come on the spot.

Lee pulls away instantly, as if he knows how close I am already. I raise my head to catch his sharp look. He doesn’t need to speak for me to understand: we both know this could be our last chance to be together like this for… for a long while.

He’s not going to let it be over so quickly.

Slowly, achingly slowly, his mouth returns, tongue dipping inside me and then coming up to circle my clit, working me up before disappearing as soon as I approach the edge. I’m talking now, pleading with him, saying words but not knowing what or which.

My thighs are drenched when he pulls away, kneeling and looking over me, eyes dark.

“Reach your hands over your head,” he orders, “and grab hold of that table leg behind you.”

Shaking, I do as he says, his eyes never once leaving mine.

“Hold on,” he says, gaze sparking. “Don’t let go, no matter how badly you want to touch yourself.”

Gone is the soft, gentle touching from before. When he finally pushes inside me, I hear myself shout his name, half-nonsensical. I wrap my legs around him, urging him deeper, and he doesn’t resist, pushing himself deep before pulling out and slamming back in.

I grip the rough-hewn table leg the entire time, so hard that it digs in my palms. My fingers ache fiercely; the sensation of him pounding between my legs coupled with the helplessness of not being able to seek out my own pleasure has me crying out, begging, grabbing onto the wood like I’ll fall off of the edge of the world without it.

He fucks me exactly how I wanted him to, with deep, punishingly fast thrusts that send pulses of pleasure roaring through my body. I can’t stop myself from trying to push back into him, pull him deep with my legs, open myself up even wider to give him all of me.

He never takes his eyes off of me—those perfect, crystal-clear blue eyes.

And when the merciless rhythm of his hips starts to stutter, I beg. “Please. Please. F-Fuck. Please. Lee!” I scream.

He smiles at me as he fucks me, as if he likes watching me come undone as much as I like shattering under his touch, pulled apart by the pleasure. He groans and finally moves a hand from my hip to circle his thumb over my clit, and I explode instantly, having been riding the edge far too long to resist that touch.

Blinding pleasure whites out my vision, and I shudder as my muscles clench around him. Ripples of pleasure work their way through me as he continues to thrust, fast and hard as my orgasm goes on and on, my body working him until he also lets go, coming with a shout and a final violent thrust inside of me.

Eventually, my breath starts to even out. I crack my eyes open, vision swimming slightly.

The sound of Lee’s satisfied chuckle as he withdraws has me clenching again around nothing, whimpering as he strokes over my hypersensitive nerves once more, tweaking my clit with his thumb.

He stands up gracefully, extending a hand to me and pulling me up beside him. “Alright, kitten?”

I take stock of my body. There’s an ache in my skull. I think I probably threw my head back against the floor when I came. And I’m a little raw and exhausted, in the best way possible. Devoured, really.

“More than alright,” I breathe. I shut my eyes briefly before attempting to walk.

He loops my arms around his neck and I allow him to half-carry me toward the bedroom. He walks me backward until we hit his washroom, and he puts me down with a laugh, turning back toward his bed while I wash up with trembling hands.

After I’m clean, I collapse on the bed beside him, molding my body to his side. His arm comes down to wrap around my shoulder, other hand pressing my hips back against him until every part of us is touching.

Lee bites my neck a few times playfully, and then whispers to me. “You don’t have to go, you know. You could stay. Here. Like this.”

My entire chest aches. I refuse to cry, so I ignore the sting in my eyes. “I can’t do nothing, Lee.”

“I know,” he says, then sits up and offers me his hand. “Come on. We should go.”

I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. He collects my clothes from where they’re strewn around the kitchen, handing them to me. “Get dressed.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“Shopping. If you’re going to survive the first Bonding Trial they put all the soldiers through, you need some better equipment.”

Shopping with Lee is nearly as torturous as telling him my news. I don’t like taking money from anyone, not when I can help it. He insisted he had coin to spare, though, and that he’d blame himself if something happened to me at the Bonding Trials because I didn’t have the right gear.

He takes me to a leather shop he likes, right off the main market square in Central. The shop is full of beautiful things, nicer than anywhere I’ve ever shopped before. Lee greets the shopkeeper as if he’s been in here a hundred times, and I study him, surprised. Then again, I suppose he’s on his fancy castle servant salary—and he doesn’t have a family to feed, like I do.

Together, the two of them select a whole host of items I’ll need, ignoring me every time I protest that something isn’t necessary.

A new rucksack, with pockets and dividers and straps to secure everything.

A new waterskin, lightweight yet large and durable.

A new pair of boots, specially soaked and stretched and oiled so that the leather is supple enough not to give me blisters from a hard day’s walk.

A new jacket, padded and lined with leather, longer and thicker than the one I’ve had for years now, with pockets lined in fur to keep my hands warm.

A sleek pair of gloves, tight yet flexible enough to allow me full range of motion while wearing them.

I watch helplessly as Lee piles coin after coin on the counter afterward, an impossible amount, more than I’ve ever spent in one month, never mind one day.

But it doesn’t end there. The Trial will be icy, Lee explains. I have to be ready for inclement weather. He takes me down a side street I never noticed before, and we duck into a basement-level shop that’s packed to the gills with hunting, trapping, and fishing gear.

Along one wall is mountain gear, like snowshoes and crampons. The shopkeeper carefully fits a pair of crampons to my new boots. We both look over the poles that some hunters use in the winter to keep themselves steady when walking an icy path, but ultimately decide I’ll want my hands free, ready to grab for a weapon… just in case.

When we leave, I’m in a daze, loaded up with more expensive things than I’ve ever owned. Lee offers to walk me home, even though I know it’ll make him late for his shift at the castle. I refuse, crack a dumb joke, and he pretends to laugh.

We try not to make a big deal out of our parting.

It’s only goodbye for now, he assures me. We’ll see each other soon, he insists.

I try to walk away like it’s any other day, like I’ll see him tomorrow. I wait until I’m sure he can’t see me before letting the tears fall.

On my way back into the Eastern Quarter, I duck into the laundry where I work to share my news. Mae doesn’t give me a hard time about leaving, but I can see that behind her eyes she’s calculating how many more hours per week she’ll need from the rest of the women to cover my work. Their soft questions and sympathy make me uncomfortable, so I escape quickly, heading toward Igor’s.

Might as well rip off the bandage all at once. Tomorrow will be here swiftly.

He’s in his yard, tinkering with a broken table, shaving down a new piece of wood to match the three legs that are still intact. The smell of oil lanterns and leather and wood shavings and dusty earth assaults my nose, and I grit my teeth, determined to hold back the rush of emotion that threatens to swamp me.

“Came by to see you and your mother said you’d headed off to join the army, like a total idiot,” he says, voice gruff.

“Hi to you too,” I say sarcastically, draping myself across an ugly chair he’s been working on back here for weeks. “Is this chair even uglier than it was a week ago?”

“Careful with that smart mouth once you’re in the army,” Igor warns. “Commanders don’t love it when their soldiers talk back.”

I laugh, glad that Igor and I are on the same page—better to joke and poke fun at each other than to admit to feeling anything more right now.

“The women at the laundry said they’d watch my mother, make sure she’s well, that she’s eating and taking her medicine…” I drift off, but Igor catches my meaning, anyway.

“I’ll keep an eye on things too,” he confirms. “You don’t need to worry about that. We’ll make sure she has what she needs.”

We both fall silent, and I watch the shadows grow as the sun sinks behind the surrounding buildings.

“You know,” Igor starts, “I’ve met a lot of strong people in my day, between the fighting circuits and the army. But I’ve never known a stronger-willed brat than you.”

“Thanks?” I grin at him. “I think?”

“Oh, it’s not entirely a good thing,” he retorts, leaning down to root around in his tool box until he finds the coarse piece of sandpaper that he’s looking for. He resumes his work on the table leg, but his eyes meet mine over the coarse piece of furniture. “But if anyone’s fool enough to take the fight to the Nabbers, and strong enough to stop them and bring home our kids, well, it’s you.”

I’m still turning his words over in my head as I pack later that evening. The recruitment center gave me a duffel bag, scuffed and stained with goddess-knows-what, but now I have the beautiful new rucksack that Lee bought me, so I fill that up instead.

The rucksack is open on my bed, and I’m sorting through my meager belongings in Saela and my shared chest of drawers, trying to decide whether to take anything sentimental or to just stick with the essentials, when I hear the door to my bedroom creak open.

Mother stands in the doorframe holding something that sparkles in the lamplight. I start to rise but she gestures for me to stay, and instead of crouching back over my bag I sink all the way down to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees.

Mother comes over and sinks down beside me. Her eyes are clearer than I’ve seen them in a long time.

“I have something for you,” she says, and tips her hand over mine so that the shining object pours into my open palm.

It’s an ancient-looking necklace, with a teardrop-shaped opal pendant set in gold, and a delicate gold chain that’s been burnished by age. I’ve never seen it before, which is odd. I thought I knew every inch of our house, especially everything that might be valuable enough to sell should times demand it.

Carefully picking the pendant up between two fingers, I hold it to the light. It’s as if a rainbow has been frozen into ice and then polished and chiseled into a precious stone.

“Where did you get this?” I turn the piece over in my hands, looking for some clue to its origins.

“It’s for protection,” she says. “It’s been in our family for generations, passed down from woman to woman for I don’t know how many years.”

“Mother.” I turn to her. “You need this more than I do. You should keep it. It’ll only get broken, where I’m going. A war is no place for an heirloom.”

She looks like she’s going to argue so I press the necklace firmly back into her hands, wrapping her fingers closed around it, then lean over to kiss her cheek.

“I’ll feel better knowing it’s keeping you safe, Mother. You can give it to me when I get back.”

Mother nods, and her shoulders slump, the fight going out of her. She stares straight ahead, across the room—across at Saela’s empty bed.

My head throbs. “I’m going to find her. I promise.”

She makes a small noise, like a trapped bird, but whether she’s assenting or contradicting my claim, I can’t tell.

I can’t believe I’m abandoning her here. Alone. But what else am I supposed to do? I can’t just give up on Saela.

It’s awful to even admit to myself, but there’s some dark part of me that made that impossible calculus. Weighed my mother’s needs against Saela’s; made myself choose between them.

Saela… she’s my sister, but I practically raised her.

She’s mine . My responsibility.

And she’s supposed to have a long life of happiness ahead of her, not whatever misery awaits her in Astreona among the Siphons.

A large part of me wonders whether these might be some of my last moments with my mother, with her illness so bad. Even if I make it back…

No, I can’t think that way. There can’t be any “if.”

“I’ll bring her back,” I say loudly, not sure which of us I’m trying to reassure more.