Fury Bound (The Wolves of Ruin, #2)

Fury Bound (The Wolves of Ruin, #2) — Chapter no 11

MERYN

efore I can coax my brain into deciding one way or another, Stark turnsB away from me and stands. The electricity fizzles out. My hand slips from his hair as he goes.

It hurts. More than it should, honestly. If that had gone any further, it would have been a mistake.

I don’t have a heart left to give, and Stark does not seem like the type to settle for pieces of a person. He’s controlled and demanding. He’d want it all.

Plus, it seems very likely that he has someone already.

I sit up, wincing. His body is rigid, his back to me as I pull my shirt down over my fresh tattoos. It’s silent between us again. He reaches up and smooths his hand over his hair, right where I touched him, as if to erase the evidence.

I chew my lip. Did I imagine that light in his eyes? Am I seeing things now, mind muddled by the mate bond between Anassa and Cratos?

“Be safe,” I say to the wall. “On your travels… with Noemi.”

The last part comes out more biting than I intended. Now is not the right time to question him about their relationship, but curiosity is eating me alive.

Stark turns halfway back toward me, his face an unreadable mask. “If I could avoid leaving, I would. It’s…” He lets out a frustrated grunt.

“What?” I push.

His eyes rise to mine, and there’s pain in his dark gaze. “My duty is protecting you, Meryn. It feels shitty to leave you here. But getting the

nobles to agree to come and legitimize your claim, that’s a way of protecting you, too.”

I blink, a little surprised that our relationship would cause him anything but exasperation and annoyance. My mouth goes dry as we stare at each other for a too long, weirdly heated moment. I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

He breaks it by saying, “Be careful around the Sovereign Alpha, okay?

She’s always in service of her own ends.”

Seriously, what is their deal? It seems like he loathes his mother. But we don’t have time to talk childhood trauma tonight, nor do I think he’d welcome it openly, so I just nod.

He turns, and over his shoulder, he says, “Have a good night.”

I thud back onto the chaise. The sound of the door shutting echoes in my ears. There’s something wrong with you, my brain hisses.

I reach out to Anassa, to distract myself with that closeness that we’re just starting to cultivate. “Where are you?”

Our minds connect for mere moments before I yank myself away in embarrassment. Of course, she and Cratos would be saying their goodbyes, with him also heading out in the morning.

But dear goddess, I do not need to see that.

I reinforce the emotional wall between us that we use to keep out the mate bond. Maybe their private time was leaking through. Maybe that’s why I can’t shake the phantom sensation of Stark’s hot tongue tracing my ribs.

If only I believed that with any conviction.

In the morning, I fill Phylax Alpha Tormun in on everything I know about Killian and Alistair’s powers before he departs for his hunt. Then Siegrid summons me.

Summons. To the royal chambers, where she’s made herself comfortable.

As if she were the queen.

I try not to chafe at that; after all, I stole her rooms first, and I don’t want

anything to do with these ones. But as I reach up and knock on the door, I once again have the sense that I’m not really in charge here.

She opens the door quickly. “Come inside.”

Siegrid leaves the doorway. I step through and shut the door behind me, watching her stride across the room. She really does move like she owns the air around her.

Then, for the first time, I take in what are supposed to be my rooms.

The royal chambers are atrocious. Sure, some people might use other words to describe them. Elegant. Opulent. Glittering. Regal. But in my eyes, they’re an unnecessary extravagance.

Precious metals are everywhere. The furniture is all spindly and delicate-looking. Whoever crafted the chairs set up along the round table to my right clearly sacrificed comfort for style. The bed I spot in the other room is massive and canopied, big enough for ten people.

The worst part is the walls. Animal heads are mounted. Trophies. Mostly stags and elk, but there’s a fox, too. All of them have been taxidermized with jewels for eyes.

“What a waste,” I grit out, my head buzzing with the injustice of it.

While the commoners of Nocturna struggled to keep themselves fed, the king placed precious gems in the bodies of dead animals and hung them as art.

Siegrid glances over at the taxidermy. “I agree,” she says, “not to mention how horrifically ugly they are. What do you want to do about it?”

I startle at her words. She’s actually asking me what I want to do, instead of telling me her plan?

“Sell it all,” I tell her. “Start with anything unnecessary in these chambers, and then we’ll go room by room through the whole castle. Surely some nobles and merchants can afford the dead king’s castoffs. We’ll put the proceeds back into the communities that need it, starting here in Sturmfrost.”

Siegrid nods. “I’ll inform Matron Alienor.” She takes a seat at the table, which is laden with food, then gestures to her side. “Sit.”

And I’m back to taking orders.

Still, I do as she says. Siegrid leans a forearm on the table. The look she gives me is severe but not unkind.

“We have three weeks until the castle is swarming with nobles. Three

weeks to mold you. We must start immediately. Alienor will continue to instruct you in court etiquette, while I train you on your new powers. How is your access to the Bonded communication channels?”

My head spins at what she just said. “Uh… not great. I’m able to reach everyone, as you saw when I informed them of my identity, but it took an enormous amount of energy. And I’m still not sure how to reach individuals outside of my pack.”

Siegrid picks up a grape and chews it, thinking.

Eventually, she says, “It takes training to understand how to manipulate the new flow of conversation and connection. A pack’s connection is a river.

As their Alpha, you can speak down the river, and your voice will reach your entire pack. I think you understand this already.”

I nod.

“As queen, or as Sovereign Alpha, you and I have access to a veritable sea of connection. You can reach everyone. You can reach the rivers of the separate packs. You can reach the tributaries that represent each Bonded

individual.”

“In theory,” I grumble.

“Oh, it’s complicated, of course. Distance is an obstacle, though the magic you possess can overcome any distance with enough focus, as you’re already aware. Additionally, while you can reach any Bonded, they cannot reach you unless you initiate contact first. You alone can open the channel, and you alone can close it.”

“The exception being the mate bond,” I muse.

Siegrid gives me a long, unreadable look. “Yes,” she says eventually, her tone uncharacteristically encouraging. “Perhaps Anassa has informed you of that already. If your wolf has a mate bond, which it appears yours does, you can reach the mate’s rider and they may reach you as well. You should make ample use of that uncommon connection.”

There’s a spark in her eyes that unsettles me.

Before I can parse it, Siegrid swallows another grape and leans back in her chair. “Individual will may be an obstacle as well. If someone doesn’t wish to speak with you, they are capable of erecting mental walls just as you might with your direwolf. Though, you may be able to overpower such

boundaries.”

“I wouldn’t,” I say quietly.

Sigried doesn’t respond to that. “The only thing that will help you learn how to navigate the waters of communication is practice. Devotion to it. It is no fault of your own that you cannot manage the bonds as you are. You are weak.”

What a nice reminder that this woman is Stark’s mother.

“But you think I can change that.” I hope?

“Any muscle can be strengthened. We’ll work on this in our sessions together. You also need to practice your powers, as you now can harness the magic of any pack.”

I blink in surprise. “I can? Are you sure?”

Siegrid presses her lips together, as if frustrated by how little I know.

“Of course. From what we know of the Sturmfrost Queens, you are the conduit of all Bonded pack powers. Have you noticed that everyone’s powers have strengthened now that you’ve reclaimed your place?”

It was apparent during the battle in the arena—the way that Kryptos woman went totally invisible, the unusual strength from the Daemos boy, the way Stark pulled down an entire archway—but I didn’t realize why it was happening until just now.

I let out a shaky breath. “Okay, so, what does being the conduit mean?”

She lifts a shoulder. “You have the same abilities as each of the packs, but heightened beyond what anyone else is capable of. You already know how to use the basic Strategos powers of foresight and strategy, but now you can extend the foresight and see further into the future. It’s a skill unique to you as the queen.”

Surprised, I laugh. “I can see the future?”

“Sort of,” Siegrid says. “When you’re on the battlefield and the pack is working together, the foresight is always accurate—many minds looking into near events. Alone, you can extend longer stretches of time. But the future is not set in stone. You may not get a vision for a clear path. And even then, the future you see might change. It’s a helpful tool but also an imprecise power, so you should not rely on it often.”

That would’ve been handy a few months ago.

Siegrid continues, “Now, you’ll learn how to tap into all the other pack powers and see how far you can take them. There’s rifting, the Kryptos art of concealment. Shielding, the Phylax defensive maneuver. Impelling, the strength that the Daemos wield.”

My throat is suddenly dry. I take a sip of ice water. That’s… a lot to learn. I’ve barely mastered my Strategos powers, and that took me four months. “And how exactly will I be learning this all?”

“Kryptos Alpha Hannelore will teach you rifting, and we’ll bring a retired Phylax in from the Bonded City to help you with shields. As for impelling, Stark departed with Noemi at dawn, so I’ll teach you myself.”

I nearly spit out the ice cube I was sucking on. “Did he?”

My brain is spinning uselessly, and I don’t know why. I knew he was leaving. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t say goodbye. It’s not something I’ve ever expected from him before. Why is this hitting me so hard?

Siegrid is either ignoring my slack-jawed reaction or doesn’t make anything of it, because she breezes past it and says, “No matter. Surely you know I was Daemos Alpha before Stark. We’ll start first thing tomorrow.”

Great. Can’t wait. Except there’s one power we haven’t discussed, and it’s the one I most need to get under control.

“And the shadows?”

A knowing smile creeps across Siegrid’s face. She raises a hand and crooks one finger.

And shadows slide up the walls, dark and creeping.

My breath leaves my entire body. “H-how are you doing that?”

She puts her hand down, and the shadows slink back to the ground, fading. “It’s called shadebending, and it’s a skill unique to the Sovereign Alpha and the queen. My powers are not even a tenth of your own, though.”

I hold up my wrist, the blackened ruby glinting in the engagement bracelet. “Unfortunately, we are not the only ones with this skill, as I think you know. Alistair Brightbane has some control over my shadebending through this bracelet.”

Siegrid temples her fingers. “Yes, I’m aware. I can sense a throttle on the power—on my ability to impel as well, in fact. His presence is corrupting and warping the magic for all Bonded.”

Alarm spikes in my chest. “Then we need to do something. Immediately.

I haven’t found someone who can get the bracelet off yet, but I’ll cut off my hand if that’s what it takes.”

Her brows rise. “You would, wouldn’t you? You’d injure yourself for the sake of others.” Her voice is contemplative, surprised. “How noble.

However, there’s no need to take such a drastic step. Tormun will succeed

in capturing Killian and will bring him back here. We’ll force him to remove the bracelet.”

My shoulders relax slightly. “So you’ll teach me how to shadebend?

Right now, I can only access it in times of high emotion, and even then, I have no control over it. I think of what I want, and it reacts, but to an extreme.”

Siegrid sighs, picking up another grape. “It’s all about discipline, Your Highness. To bend the shadows successfully, you need to clear your mind.

Emotion can heighten their strength, no doubt, but you should not be possessed by your… feelings.” She spits out the word with virulent distaste, as if she bit into her fruit and found it rotten. “We’ll drill those histrionics out of you in no time at all.”

I can tell she’s trying to be helpful, so I don’t reach across the table and throttle her, as much as I may want to.

Anassa growls in my mind. “You are not histrionic. You are passionate and feel things greatly. There is a difference.”

“There is one final matter I wish to discuss with you,” Siegrid says before I can make a break for the door.

I straighten and nod for her to continue.

“Now that you have discovered your true identity and laid claim to the crown, it no longer makes sense for you to be Strategos Alpha. My direwolf, Genicos, believes you and Anassa should step down and let the

wolves pick someone new.”

Surprise hits me first and then pain.

Alpha. I’m an Alpha. They’re my pack. Even if what she’s saying makes sense, I don’t want to let go. It’s a role I was just starting to embrace. Even though I haven’t been Alpha for long, it’s familiar—something I was starting to feel confident in, unlike my position as queen.

I don’t want this to be another thing I have to lose.

“You will never lose your pack,” Anassa says gently. “You will always be Strategos, even if you now are more.”

“Do you support this?” I want her so badly to say no, to fight.

She’s silent for a moment, and it says everything. How many times can a heart break before there’s nothing left to put back together?

Finally, she goes on, “If we continue to serve as the Strategos Alpha pair, our loyalty will be to them. That would do a disservice to our kingdom.

We serve everyone now. All the wolves, all the people, no matter their pack or their rank.”

She’s right, I know she’s right. Strategos deserves an Alpha that belongs to them, who has no priority higher than their well-being and strength.

And my people—all my people—deserve a leader with no divided interests.

“You know why she’s suggesting this, though,” I say. It’s so transparent.

Siegrid would like a new Strategos Alpha who will be completely compliant.

“I do, but I was going to suggest this to you myself.”

“I understand,” I tell Siegrid, and she looks pleased. Outright pleased, confirming my suspicion. “I’ll step down and let the wolves choose.”

“It will be Sofos, the direwolf bonded to Egith,” Anassa says. “I have influence over the decision. Sofos and Egith will be loyal to us above anyone else.”

If Anassa believes that’s true, I trust her.

“Take a break and meet up with Hannelore in the Kryptos training area after lunch to continue your work,” Siegrid says. “I’ll let her know she’s needed.”

It sounds dangerously like an order, but I let it go. I just want to get out of here.

I return to my rooms to check on Saela. What I find doesn’t surprise me.

She’s clearly gotten out of bed, cleaned up and dressed herself, and then climbed back under the blankets again.

“Hey, Sae,” I say, sighing. I bend to pick up her discarded shoes and set them straight next to her bed. “Doing okay?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Please talk to me,” I beg. If I could get one smile out of her… Nothing.

“I know this has been hard for you, but it breaks my heart to see you like this. Do you need to go outside and get some fresh air?”

Saela scoffs. She doesn’t look at me, but I don’t need to see her face to know she’s angry. “Wouldn’t I be a danger to myself and others? Leave me alone, Meryn.”

I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, there’s a piercing pull in my brain. A gasp flies from my lips. Saela turns quickly, the sound startling

her.

My knees give out, and I sit down quickly on her bed.

This feeling… It’s him again.

“Bonded,” Killian—or Alistair, if he’s to be believed—says over the rivers. “You have had several days to consider your loyalties. The fiefdom of Rabenfrost has welcomed me with open arms, and they welcome you, too.”

Those traitorous fucks. My hands tighten on Saela’s bedcovers, and my eyes alight on the engagement bracelet clamped on my wrist. It’s tighter than ever, and the ruby once again swirls with dark shadows.

“Meryn?” Saela asks uneasily.

My shoulders start to tremble in anger. I need to stop this. I have to cut him off somehow—he’s not allowed to address my people like they’re his own.

“Do you think I can erect a wall against him?” I ask Anassa with

urgency.

“Try it. Quickly.”

Closing my eyes, I seek out the ocean of communication in my mind.

His foul energy is in there, too, like a dark cloud hanging over all the streams that branch out to the packs. I take a deep breath and then… I push.

The wall I erect is stronger than anything Anassa and I ever threw against each other. It’s iron, and it stretches and stretches and stretches, reaching out, protecting all the Bonded from his influence. She throws her power against it, too.

Instantly, I’m sweating, and my head starts to pound. It’s as if something was roughly squeezing my brain, juicing it like a fruit. But I ignore the ache.

I’d endure any pain to keep him out. And it’s working—his twisted influence is leeching away.

“Meryn!” Saela’s fingers are on my wrist, pulling at me, but I keep my eyes clamped tight.

“More,” Anassa says. “It’s almost enough.”

A scream tears from my chest as I continue to mentally push the wall up against him. Finally, something slips into place. He’s out; he’s totally

removed from the pack communication channels. I can sense it.

“Will it stay? Do you think it will keep him out for good?”

There’s a pause before Anassa answers. “We may have to keep reinforcing it. But… it seems as if it is working for now.”

My eyes flutter open, and Saela is gaping at me in concern. I’d be almost pleased that something’s gotten through to her if I wasn’t about to double over from my searing headache.

Terror ricochets in my chest. I grab her shoulders, and she sputters. “W-

what—?”

“Do you hear him?” I demand.

She wriggles away from my grasp, moving across the bed and closer to the wall. “Mer, what are you talking about? Are you okay?”

“Killian,” I press. “Can you hear him? Are you hearing him right now?”

Her eyes are wide. Fearful. She shakes her head. “I—no. No, I told you.

No one is reaching me or anything.”

She looks so earnest. Can I believe her? Can I trust my own sister?

I have to. Because if I don’t give her my trust, who will?

Opening my arms, I beckon her into a hug. She comes, her small body pressing against my own, and I wrap her up tightly.

“You scared me,” she mumbles.

I lean my head against her hair and breathe in deeply.