Direbound (The Wolves of Ruin #1)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T he arena tilts and spirals around me until I have to look away from the prince. Have to shut my eyes and focus on forcing my lungs to take even one damned breath.I’m sick, my heart pounding too fast.

Thoughts stream by, rapid-fire.

It’s not real, it’s not real .

I’m crazy like my mother. I’m hallucinating .

Lee would never do this to me .

But it’s no use. I know this isn’t madness. It’s no hallucination.

I know because I’m enraged . It rises up from my guts like slow fire, searing everything in its path. Honing my senses with cutting clarity.

I open my eyes. He’s still there. Crown Prince Killian. Lee.

My beloved .

He said he loved me. He made me promise to come back to him. The thought of returning to him, to our lives together, to the future we were going to build—it’s been one of the things getting me through these confusing, brutal days.

He fucking lied .

Our gazes meet again. I know he can read the betrayal in my eyes, but he doesn’t look away. The pain in his eyes makes me want to retch, acid rising in the back of my throat.

Then the king turns to look at him. Lee—Prince Killian—turns his head to whisper something to his father.

The king’s voice echoes across the still arena. “What an excellent idea, Killian. Let us go down and closely inspect our new chosen.”

My fellow Rawbonds stiffen around me. Anxiety surges over them like a storm cloud. Even the wolves are on edge as the king descends from his balcony with an entourage of guards and servants.

This is bad. I struggle to make myself breathe evenly. I can’t lose control. I can’t let on that I know Prince Killian. If I do… I don’t know what will happen. But I can’t imagine it will be good.

It won’t end with me and Saela safe at home, that’s for sure.

The king is on the field now, emerging from a narrow staircase beside the big balcony. I close my eyes again, wrestling the rage back down.

Breathe, Meryn. Stay calm .

“Here we are,” comes the King’s deep voice, rich with amusement and condescension. “Hmm. Yes, very nice. So fresh and fit.”

Ugh . Bile rises in my throat.

He’s walking rows of Rawbonds, pausing now and then to circle someone closely, appraising us like fucking cattle .

“Oh, look here, Killian,” he purrs, circling a young woman from the Kryptos pack. “This one is quite lovely, don’t you think?” He reaches out to knock her ass with one jewel-crusted hand. “So firm.”

The woman smiles and blushes as if she’s just been paid an enormous compliment. Maybe, for her, she has; maybe she’s vying to become the Rawbond he’ll choose as his companion.

I see Killian nod out of the corner of my eye, but I can’t bring myself to look. Was he planning to pick a companion too?

“A fine young warrior in the making,” the prince murmurs. Fucker.

They move on, row by row until finally, much to my dread, the king draws near.

“Ah, the Strategos,” he says in that horrible tone of predatory amusement. “Such elegance and cunning.”

He pauses by the girl in front of me, lifting the hem of her dress to peer at her bare legs. I keep my eyes down so he won’t see my rage and disgust.

Sick fuck. He better not touch me. I’ll fucking gut him, king or not .

At the same time, I’m brutally aware of Prince Killian standing beside him, his gaze heavy on me. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to look back. Not to search those familiar eyes for any sign of?—

No. You’re supposed to be furious, Meryn. Don’t look for anything from him.

The prince crosses toward me, trailing after his father, who’s moved on to inspecting the girl immediately to my left.

Something brushes my hand as Killian passes. My heart lurches.

I want to spit at him, to howl in his face, to shove him to the ground.

But it’s done. Killian walks away, leaving a small piece of paper pressed into my palm. Heart hammering, I tuck it quickly into the sleeve of my dress.

What the fuck was he thinking? Did anyone see?

I glance around, feeling eyes on me.

It’s Stark, standing a few yards away. He’s staring right at me, his black gaze murderous, lips curling on the edge of a snarl. Adrenaline flashes through me, cold and then hot.

I tear my gaze away. Did he catch Killian doing that? Or does he just hate me?

I don’t have time to think about it. Suddenly the king is at my elbow. There’s a pause as he looks me over. Then he hooks his finger around a lock of my hair and lifts it briefly.

“Hmm. Unusual.”

I stare at his chest, but I can see his eyes narrow, his lips part to speak?—

“My king,” Stark interrupts, “shall we show you what our recruits can do? They haven’t begun their training yet. No time like the present to test their resolve.”

Test our resolve? What is he talking about?

The king’s head turns. His lips curl in a wicked smile. “What an excellent idea, Alpha Stark! I do believe I’d enjoy that.” He reaches under his cloak, drawing the Diren Bl?d in a singing hiss of metal against metal.

Then he slams the tip of the sword into the ground with a resounding crack.

“Rawbonds!” King Cyril bellows. “Find and kill the weakest recruit!”

Wait, what?!

At once, the arena bursts into chaos. The crowd howls with delight as the king and his entourage scurry back to their balcony. Rawbonds scramble to mount their wolves. Less than half are successful.

I turn to Anassa, but she’s already facing off with another wolf, snarling and snapping. Both animals seem maddened, their eyes glowing with bloodlust.

What the ? —?

All the wolves seem maddened. They’re circling each other like sharks, unheeding the rider’s commands. Snapping at each other with slavering violence. The Rawbonds on foot are forced to scatter lest they get caught in the crossfire.

The wolves are gripped by some command from the Diren Bl?d , I realize. The Rawbonds seem to take it in stride.

Did they hear something I didn’t? Feel something I didn’t?

As I scan the arena in bewilderment, another pair of wolves thunders past, nearly knocking me down. One of them turns to snap at me as I scramble out of the way, its enormous teeth clacking shut mere inches from my face before it turns on another wolf.

Fuck. I can’t survive this on my own. It doesn’t take a genius to know that those who failed to mount their wolves are the ones most vulnerable to attack. It’s only a matter of time before one of us is marked as the weakest.

Anassa!

I reach out to her desperately in my mind, but she ignores me—the iron wall still separates us.

All I can do is try to stay out of everyone’s way.

I pull out the blade that I always have hidden at my thigh and prepare myself for violence.

I’m amazed no one has come after me yet. I thought at least a few of them would decide I’m the weakest recruit. But whatever spell the king cast has made the direwolves impossible to control. There’s no order, no strategy. The wolves are still circling, lunging, sizing each other up.

And then something changes.

A young man falls from his wolf, landing hard enough to shatter bones. I recognize him from the Ascent, though I don’t know his name. He’s a Kryptos recruit. Smaller than average and slender. Fine brown hair and freckles. One of the youngest, surely—eighteen at most, a boy more than a man. He was one of the last to be chosen.

His cry of pain echoes loud enough to draw the attention of every predator on the field.

The energy of violence and chaos shifts instantly.

Weakness .

The wolves have scented it. The other Rawbonds, too. They turn almost as one to converge on the wounded guy.

“No!”

The word is out of my mouth before I can stop it. It’s barely loud enough to compete with the raging of the crowd, much less the deafening snarls of the wolves, but a few of them still hear me.

Instinct crackles up my back as half a dozen maddened lupine faces turn in my direction.

Oh… fuck .

One of them is Jonah’s big black monstrosity. Jonah sits astride him, grinning maliciously. Holding my gaze, he throws his head back and lets loose a horrible, bone-chilling battle-cry.

Everyone turns to look.

Weakness .

Just like that, the wounded Kryptos boy is forgotten. Every predator on the field—wolf and human alike—is now focused on me.

Of course , I think, everything inside of me shrinking with panic. I’m the weakest link. The outsider. The mistake.

Heart hammering, I take a fighting stance as the wolves fan out around me, but I know it’s useless. They’re closing in. Everything inside me is sinking, falling. The knife in my hand is about as useful as a toothpick.

There’s no way I survive this.

Tears of rage and failure burn my eyes.

At that moment, Anassa breaks away from the rest, bounding toward me ahead of the others, her yellow eyes wild with aggression.

I almost laugh. Of course . She’s hated me from the start. And now she’s going to lead the killing attack.

Something in me hardens at the thought. Fear and defeat compress into cold, cutting fury.

That’s how it is, huh? I think, my teeth bared as I hold Anassa’s gaze. Fine! Come taste my knife, you bitch.

Anassa growls so low it rumbles in my chest. Jonah and his wolf are right behind her, poised to attack. Jonah laughs like a fucking madman and screams, “Now!”

His wolf lunges forward. At the same moment, I dive for Anassa’s throat?—

And miss .

I hit the hard-packed earth on my hands and knees, dazed, and turn to see Anassa slamming Jonah’s wolf to the ground. With a yelp, Jonah flies off, skidding across the hard-packed dirt.

The fuck?

Before I know it, Anassa is up again, lunging at another wolf. Her snarl is deafening.

Confused, I scramble to my feet.

Is Anassa protecting me?

I watch in astonishment as she body slams another wolf and then lunges for a third. The rest shrink back in the face of her ferocity, but they’re whining, pacing, still gripped by bloodlust.

Anassa stands over me, head lowered and hackles raised, growling loud enough to shake the fucking earth.

Mine! the growl practically says. My kill! My prey!

There’s a moment of heart-stopping stillness as Anassa stands her ground. I can actually sense the other wolves judging her, sizing her up. Trying to decide if it’s worth it to challenge the oldest and most powerful among them.

My heart and breath are loud in my ears—even louder than the raving crowd. They know the other wolves can take Anassa if they come at her together. I know it. The other Rawbonds know it.

But for some reason, they don’t. All at once, the tension shifts and the wolves just… back away.

Relief floods my limbs, turning my muscles to water. Anassa turns to glare at me, jaws open and streaming with saliva.

The iron wall is still there between us, but I understand the threat in her gaze perfectly. She could kill me in an instant. And maybe she will.

But not today.

She turns and stalks after the others, leaving me shaken and bewildered.

My relief is short-lived.

A scream echoes through the arena. “Jagir! Help me!”

The Kryptos boy. He’s on his feet now, one arm dangling uselessly at his side. Calling desperately for his wolf.

I lose sight of him almost immediately in the wild surge of bodies as the wolves and Rawbonds converge on their target.

Horror fills me as more screams rend the air—the boy’s wails of pain and terror.

The roar of sound in the arena is deafening. The snarling of the wolves is so loud it makes my ears ring. Under that is a horrible tearing—cloth and flesh being rent.

The mass of bodies breaks apart for a moment and I see him—the Kryptos boy—on his knees and covered in blood. His wolf stands over him, snarling desperately, dark fur glittering with crimson wetness.

I watch in horror as the other wolves circle the pair. There’s no chaos now. They’re of one mind, united in their hunt.

Like a dance, they take turns darting in to attack, drawing the Kryptos wolf away from his chosen so another wolf can attack the bleeding boy. The other Rawbonds stand outside the circle, watching. Cheering. As bloodthirsty as their beasts.

And the crowd?—

I glance up as their roaring reaches a fever pitch. We’re their fucked up entertainment. Their faces are lit with glee, mouths open, howling . The king is on his throne, grinning with self-satisfaction. Beside him, Prince Killian looks stone-faced, impossible to read and unable to intervene, even if he wanted to.

I’d like to think he would; that somewhere inside of that stranger is the man I loved, who would calmly and authoritatively put an end to any injustice he saw.

What he may or may not want doesn’t matter, though. Like me, all he can do is watch.

There’s a flash of silver-white fur at the edge of the fight. Anassa, her coat splattered red, muzzle crimson. She launches at the Kryptos wolf and clamps her enormous jaws around his throat.

The Kryptos wolf goes down squealing.

And that’s it. The beginning of the end.

I watch in unblinking horror as the other wolves rush in, knowing there’s nothing I can do. If I try to intervene, I’ll be next.

The first wolf to reach the boy takes hold of his shattered arm. The boy screams—a terrible, childlike sound.

Another wolf lunges for his left leg.

“No!” he cries in a high, broken voice. “Please—Mama!”

In an instant, they have him off the ground, strung tight between their jaws. Then there’s another wolf on his left shoulder, and yet another takes hold of his right thigh.

They start to shake him. To toss their heads with sickening violence, tearing flesh from bone.

The boy’s screams make me want to cover my ears and crumple to the ground, but I’m utterly frozen, unable to look away.

With a loud, echoing rip his right arm tears free at the shoulder. His screams are so loud they almost drown out the crowd.

Mercifully, they don’t last long.

Another wolf darts in, dark jaws snapping closed on the boy’s head.

With a lurch of bone-deep horror, I realize it’s his wolf. Anassa let him go and he attacked his own rider.

There’s a terrible wet crunch as the animal bites down. The screams abruptly cease.

But not the horror.

The wolves are fighting over his corpse now. Tearing it to shreds. The boy’s wolf drops down next to him, their severed bond killing him as well, and the other wolves tear him apart next.

The crowd roars as the wolves and their riders start to disperse, leaving what remains of the Kryptos boy in shattered crimson pieces. The Rawbonds are celebrating, lifting their arms and cheering back at the crowd, their faces and skimpy clothes spattered with gore.

Blood and torn flesh paint the ground at their feet, flowing into those little divots. Dazed, I look down.

Realization hits me with overwhelming repulsion.

They’re drains . To carry the blood away from the battlefield so it doesn’t turn the dirt to mud.

This place is a theater of death.

My stomach lurches and I stumble away, desperate to put a little space between myself and that nightmare scene. There are other Rawbonds doing the same. Not all of them are celebrating. Many look as dazed and shaken as I am. One girl has tears in her shock-glazed eyes. Another falls to his knees and vomits on the ground.

Meanwhile, the wolves continue to circle. Their gazes lift to the king as though awaiting further command. Will there be another cull? Is the killing done, or has it just started?

I follow their looks. The king’s smile brings a renewed wave of nausea. It reminds of Jonah’s sadistic grin. He nods regally, lips curling in satisfaction, the keen eyes glinting with something disgustingly close to arousal.

Stark sits a few feet away at the foot of the dais—a place of honor, acknowledging his high rank as a leader of a pack. I’m not even surprised anymore to find he’s staring right at me.

He’s not smiling, and there’s a malicious glitter in his dark eyes. A silent message, as clear as the one I read in Anassa’s when she protected me moments ago.

He wants me dead .

I know it with bone-deep certainty. He called for this display because he knew the wolves would choose me. I was supposed to be the cull today—the one torn apart for all to see.

But there will be plenty of other chances to see me die an ignominious death. And the look on his face says he’s looking forward to it.

This is just the beginning.

Behind him, the king lifts his sword once more. The blade thunks against the dais. At once, the aura of bloodlust and impending violence abates. The wolves are calmed.

The Presentation is done.

The trudge back to the dorm is made in exhausted silence. Even the Rawbonds who reveled in the kill are quiet. Venna and Izabel walk ahead of me, their twin dresses speckled with blood.

I didn’t see them in the fray, but they must have been close at the end. I don’t even have the energy to wonder if they enjoyed it. My mind is on Lee’s—ugh, Killian’s —note. It’s scratching inside my sleeve, burning against my skin.

As soon as we enter the dorms, I head for the lavatory and lock myself in one of the private stalls. My fingers tremble as I unfold the small square of paper.

East garden at midnight. Please, kitten.

I stare at the words, numb.

I shouldn’t go. What can he possibly say to make this canyon-wide lie between us okay? I’ve spent a year of my life, of my love, with a… stranger . The horror I felt when I first saw him standing there still lingers, twisting my insides, the bile rising at the back of my throat.

And the stupidest part is, I’ve missed him so much over the past couple of days. It felt like my heart was being carved from my chest with his absence. Little did I know that he was holding the knife the whole time.

But I can’t pretend that my mind isn’t heavy with questions that I’d like to get answered, primarily: why? Why me? Why lie? Why?

Shoving the paper back into my sleeve, I exit the stall in a haze. I don’t even see the other Rawbonds passing around me, washing away the blood and sweat as they ready themselves for bed.

My reflection in the mirror is pale and horrible. There’s blood on my face and in my hair. The crimson lipstick is smudged, my eyes deeply shadowed.

I can see the weakness there. The loneliness. The loss.

Ironically, I wish Lee was here—the one person I could always count on to help me, to take care of me. In another life, I could go to my friends, but I couldn’t possibly expose myself to these people I barely know, not when my life hangs on the line. Not even to Izabel and Venna, whom I’m starting to trust.

I stare at myself in the mirror, wishing it could talk back to me. What should I do?

Blindly, I reach out for the connection to Anassa in my head, hoping that she’ll choose this moment to lower the wall, to offer me counsel. But there’s nothing except my own echoing, spiraling thoughts.

I’m well and truly alone.