Fury Bound (The Wolves of Ruin, #2) — Chapter no 31

31

STARK

’m surrounded by enemies I can’t kill, riding a silent creature vastlyI inferior to Cratos, and yet the woman seated in front of me is going to be the reason I go insane.

Right now, I should be carefully noting the landscape we ride through.

Every moment I spend in Astreona is a chance for intelligence gathering that could make or break our position in this war.

Instead, I’m fighting the urge to deliberately hold Meryn tighter to me.

To press her shapely ass against my stiffening cock through the thin fabric of her trousers each time the horse jostles us up and down.

This is the last thing I fucking need—Meryn in close proximity, pushing me closer and closer to a perilous edge I’m trying to avoid.

Yesterday was a mistake, plain and simple. That mental connection took us both to a frenzied place, feeding off each other’s sensations and riling each other up. We were out of our right minds.

Once it was over, all I felt was regret.

Regret that I might have pushed her into something too fast, too soon.

That she might not be able to trust me after.

That I let my control slip and endangered her, moving her closer to the snare of whatever Siegrid is planning.

That I now know the sweet, tangy taste of her slick heat, and I know I can’t ever have it again.

To protect Meryn, I need to stay far the fuck away.

Her ass bounces back against my dick again just then, as if to mock my resolve. Desire rips through me, and I knock my head back, suppressing a

groan.

Is this why people like horses so much?

“What did you say?” Cratos pipes in from back at the outpost. His feral curiosity floods me. “Are we eating the horses?”

“There is no ‘we’ in eating horses, and please leave them alone,” I grind out. “A Siphon arm is enough forbidden meat for one day. Stop fantasizing about snacks, and keep your eyes on Saela.”

Cratos grumbles as he cuts off our connection.

We make our way out of the fields. The dirt road turns to gravel and then paving stones as we enter the village.

The town is nestled on the slope of a green hill, with narrow cobblestone roads winding throughout. Smoke lazily drifts out of chimneys. Houses are sturdy and well maintained. Everything here is bizarrely fucking idyllic.

There are overflowing garden plots between the houses. Even in the Bonded City, you didn’t see stuff like this; our climate is too inhospitable for it. Here, it seems the citizens just grow whatever they want.

The contrast between this place and the towns in Nocturna is startling.

The people we see on the streets look different from commoners in Sturmfrost, and it takes me a minute to realize the difference: They look well fed.

I thought Astreona was supposed to be the shithole, not the other way around.

Still, my teeth remain on edge, muscles tensed and ready for movement.

Meryn looks around her, noticing much the same. “Davide,” she calls out quietly, and he reins in his horse until he’s beside us.

I want to punch the self-satisfied smirk off his face. It’s clear he sees the effect this well-kept town is having on us.

The man turns, eyebrows raised. “Yes?”

“Who lives in this town? Siphons or humans?”

He shakes his head. “Like everywhere in Astreona, the population is mixed. But this particular town is predominantly human.”

Meryn stiffens in my arms, and shock rumbles through me. We heard from her father that humans and Siphons live together in Astreona—a total mindfuck after forever believing that they’d all been wiped out here.

But the population is mixed? They live among each other? They’re less

segregated than Nocturna.

Or… My mouth twists in distaste. Or the Siphons just like to keep their meals

close, like well-kept cattle. Until it’s time for slaughter.

The same thoughts are clearly running through Meryn’s head. “So the humans here are at the Siphons’ mercy?”

The people we see walking around the streets seem remarkably calm, given that their predators live among them. A man who looks human and a woman with obvious Siphon beauty cross the street ahead of us. The Siphon bows her head to listen to something the human is saying.

Almost as if they were… friends.

Davide’s tone is bored, but his words remain polite. “Not exactly. While all Siphons drink animal blood as basic sustenance, human blood is superior and preferred. But we’ve found solutions that work for all parties. You’ll see. Just ahead…”

After a few moments, our horses round a bend and break into a wider thoroughfare that climbs up the slope of a hill.

Davide lifts his hand and points toward a large building structured almost like a temple, with tall windows and a large arch dominating its facade. Hanging from the crest of the arch is a bright red lantern that paints a long stretch of the street in its color.

“That is an establishment where humans can voluntarily sell their blood and are compensated generously for their service.”

My hackles rise. So this is the thin veneer of civility they’ve painted on top of the brutal truth. They have these humans whoring themselves out as blood bags.

And what’s to keep the Siphons from taking what they want any time?

These complacent-looking humans would be sitting ducks.

Davide has the nerve to look entertained by my distaste. “Blood is also available for purchase in most markets,” he notes, “although fresh is always best.”

Something’s been bothering me. “What of unwilling Nocturnans? Like children? We know their blood is powerful for you, considered valuable.”

Elias has slowed to listen to our conversation, and he scowls. “Drinking from a child is a crime, both legal and moral.”

Meryn and I exchange looks. We know the Nabbers in Sturmfrost were working at the behest of the king, but still… “Stark and I were part of an operation into Astreona a few months ago.

There was an old temple at the border. It was mostly abandoned when we

arrived, but it was clear children had been kept there.”

A line forms at Elias’s brow. “A temple… Oh! Yes, we rescue Nocturnan orphans.”

Meryn’s face flushes, and my hand tightens around the dagger at my hip.

“Excuse me?” she says, voice low and tense. “You what?”

Davide crosses his arms. “Just as he said. Look around you. You know what your own country is like. When we find Nocturnan orphans at the front, we rehome them with families in Astreona. It is better for them.”

Rage washes through me. The fucking gall.

Meryn, to her credit, doesn’t immediately stab them. Her mouth flattens into a thin line. “Right. Your king and I will be discussing that, then. My citizens belong to my country.”

“Every word of this could be a lie,” I caution Meryn.

“Obviously,” she says, her response testy. I wonder if she’s filled with regret about what happened between us, too. “But it’s still helpful to understand the lies they wish to tell.”

Meryn’s very familiar with lying Siphons, of course. I don’t need to remind her to be distrustful.

“How do Siphons control themselves?” she asks. “I mean, specifically, keep from turning all the human donors into Siphons as well.”

He laughs. “You make it sound…” Davide’s amused smile fades. “Ah.

Apologies. You truly know very little.”

“I know some,” Meryn says. Her voice stays light, but her body tenses, violence only just suppressed. “But I’d wager that neither of us knows much about the other’s culture. So perhaps you could keep your opinions on my knowledge to yourself.”

Davide is silent, and Elias breaks in smoothly. “Please accept my apologies on behalf of Davide, Your Highness. We will endeavor to answer your questions without further comment.”

Or what, I wonder? How would Davide be punished for souring the negotiations between Meryn and their king before they start?

I entertain myself by imagining several lethal options.

Davide looks as if he’s smelled something rotten, but he answers the question regardless. “Transforming humans into Siphons is actually quite rare and strictly regulated. There would be no logic in converting our primary food source, and maintaining proper population balance is

considered essential to Astreonan stability.”

Meryn scoffs. “Big words from an army that transforms our Nocturnan soldiers into bloodsuckers at whim.” I know she’s picturing her father’s face and remembering the stories I’ve told her of our own soldiers turning against us at the front, ripping apart my comrades with their teeth.

“We sometimes transform grievously wounded Nocturnan soldiers like your father, but otherwise, becoming a Siphon requires formal application and approval through established protocols. And field transformations are evaluated and documented for population records. Of course, accidents do happen, especially in the heat of battle,” Davide says stiffly.

Meryn and I are quiet as we both take that in.

Everything we’ve ever been taught about Astreona was deliberate misinformation carefully constructed and maintained by generations of Nocturnan rulers. Rulers who were actually Siphons themselves, all controlled by Alistair.

And all with the aim of rallying Nocturnans against Astreona.

There’s so much we don’t know. How can we possibly stay on even ground in any negotiations between our kingdoms?

While my thoughts churn, we reach the market Davide was speaking of, and each of us dismounts their horse. Elias hands a coin to a young boy waiting at the entrance to the square, and he leads our horses away.

“Feel free to wander, Your Highness,” Elias says smoothly. “Our streets are safe for you, though I recommend you stay close so as not to get lost.

We’ll meet you back here in a short while.”

“Should we be worried that they’re going off alone?” I ask Meryn.

“No, fuck them. I want to explore.”

Elias and Davide step into the market, headed for an awning marked in red. As they begin to haggle, their words blending with the sounds of other market-goers, I turn to Meryn—only to see her stalk off down a side lane.

Maddening woman. What now?

With several long strides, I nearly catch up to her. She turns down another alley and is briefly out of my sight.

When I round the corner, I’m not ready for her attack.

Meryn pushes me roughly into the building wall behind me. There’s a quick flash of silver, and then cold steel presses into my throat.

She’s drawn a dagger on me.

I stare down at her, holding myself still. Letting her hold the blade to me. For now.

Heat lashes in my veins. It turns me on way more than it should—the kiss of the steel on my neck, brandished by a woman I’ve tasted.

“What the fuck is your problem?” she hisses.

I raise an eyebrow. “Right now, my problem is that the person I’m supposed to protect is holding a knife to my throat,” I say coolly.

She scowls. “You know that’s not what I mean.” Meryn forcefully shoves her other hand into my chest, holding me tight against the brick wall.

It’s the only point of contact between our bodies, but the heat of her is just inches from me.

Blood rushes to my cock, making my pants tight. I can’t shift to adjust the pressure, not without Meryn’s knife cutting into my skin.

Fuck, I wish I didn’t respond to her this way.

“You’re really going to do this?” she asks scornfully. “Just pretend that what happened between us in the woods never occurred?” Her anger brings a flush to her face.

I try to suppress the memories, but her words bring them right back. Her legs parting for me. The taste of her on my lips, wet and wanting. The way she squirmed when I worked her with my mouth, teased her with tongue and teeth.

The way she begged me to order her around and the way I loved it.

The compliant woman from the forest has been replaced by someone ferocious, and I’m just as hard for it. Still, I say tautly, “It’s for the best. We should both pretend it never happened, my queen.”

Meryn growls in anger. “I’ve had a lot of unkind thoughts about you over the past six months, Stark Therion. But I never took you for a coward!”

The pain in her voice lances through me. She’s right, of course.

I’m being a coward, and that’s not like me. But her presence does something to my fucking head that makes me not think straight.

With a quick hand, I knock her dagger away from my throat. Then I spin her around, reversing our positions as I slam her into the brick wall. My hands go to her wrists, pinning them above her head.

For a long breath, I let myself lean into her. My cock is hard as a rock,

the friction and warmth delicious as I press into her lower belly. Her answering moan is small and desperate.

“You’re right.” My voice is low and gravelly. “I should’ve told you right away that it was a mistake. I wish I could pretend it didn’t happen, princess.

Don’t you see how you’re torturing me?”

I thrust my hips against her, and she moans again.

“The thought of you, bare for me in the woods, doing everything I told you to like such a fucking good girl? It’s driving me insane.”

I let go of one wrist and grab her chin, angling her eyes up toward mine.

Her mouth parts, her gaze slightly glassy.

“You’ve been an unhealthy fixation from the moment I laid eyes on you,” I continue, voice low. “And now I’ve tasted you and discovered my favorite flavor. You haunt me. You consume me. And it’s sheer agony, because whatever that was, it cannot happen again.”

Her face darkens, and she tries to yank her wrist out of my grip. I don’t let her go. We can’t leave here until she understands.

When she looks back to me, she’s pleading. “Why not, Stark? If that’s how you feel, why not? I really do not have the space for getting my head fucked around by another man. And if it was not absolutely clear, I want you. I’ve been fighting it, worried it was our wolves’ mate bond, but I’m done lying to myself. So speak.”

I open my mouth to tell her about Siegrid—how the Sovereign Alpha wants us to get married so that she can proxy-rule the throne. Suddenly, though, it sounds so stupid. Meryn would never let anyone tell her what to

fucking do.

Who gives a shit what Siegrid wants?

And it surfaces the true reason I’ve been fighting against this pull.

“I’m wrong for you,” I tell her bluntly. I let go of her wrists, stepping back a few inches. “Meryn, you… you could be the greatest queen that Nocturna has ever seen. You need to be with someone who nurtures the best parts of you. Not someone who pulls you down into the dark and relishes every moment.”

She opens her mouth to argue, so I hold up a hand.

“No. I’m serious. Think of the ruler you want to be. Think about who will be ruling by your side. Do you think the common people or the nobles would ever accept me? A depraved butcher whose name is whispered in

fear? A person who sees you grappling with your power and urges you to seize it, fuck the consequences?”

I watch the emotions play across her face, like clouds across a sky, and charge on.

“You need to be with an equal. Not someone who’s thought of as a monster. It’s better that we stop this now while we still can. Because I can tell, Meryn—I know what it’s like to be ruined. And kissing you tastes like leaping toward destruction. If we keep this going, neither of us will survive the consequences.”

Meryn turns her face away from me then, and I ache at the loss of her heated gaze. Her jaw twitches, and there’s a sheen where tears form in her eyes.

It’s as if a direwolf were tearing out my still-beating heart.

I hate to be the person making her cry when every part of me screams that I’m meant to guard her, mop up her tears. But this is the only way to

protect her in the long run.

To protect us both.

Because she will live to regret me, and I don’t know that I’d ever be able to let her go.

She turns back toward me and catches my eye again, tears bright and shining.

“It destroys me that you don’t know your own worth, Stark,” she snarls.

“I wish I could go back in time and cut off the hands of every single person who ever hurt you. Everyone who made you believe that you had only one purpose, one kind of value. You are a million times more than what you’ve been told.”

Meryn draws a shaky breath, and I realize I’ve been holding mine, transfixed by her words.

“Besides, if you’re a monster, what am I? If you’re depraved, I am, too, you fucking asshole. You don’t get to claim my worst actions as yours. I make my own choices. And this thing between us?”

She steps in close, reaching her hands up to cup my face. And with her touch comes connection—she opens herself mentally, and it’s faster than ever this time, sliding into that place in our minds.

Our two heartbeats are one, stoking urgency and passion and some other emotion that hurts to look at closely, like the blinding light of the sun.

“What is this, Stark?” comes her voice in my head, her eyes alight with sorrow and wonder. “This isn’t just the mate bond between our wolves, and you know it. You alone are capable of joining with me like this and sharing my power. What are you if not my equal?”

Meryn’s breath is my breath, and I’m drowning in her, pulled under into a sea that I can’t name.

And then we’re interrupted by a harsh shriek.

Meryn startles. It’s a woman in danger—we both know it instinctively.

Our minds separate, and we snap back into ourselves as we both wordlessly take off toward the noise.

We tear down the alley, and as we round the corner, both of us already

have blades drawn.

The source of the scream is obvious.

A blonde woman lies prostrate across a set of stone steps in front of a home. Two Siphons are above her, both with fangs out—one pale-skinned and reedy, the other thicker with a malevolent smile. The door to the home hangs open, and I catch a glimpse of scared eyes as a little boy peeks out and then backs away.

The pale one is inches from ripping into the woman’s flesh when Meryn’s voice rings loud and imperious. “Stop! What are you doing?!”

He looks up at us, and Meryn blanches at the look of cold indifference on his face.

“We’re collecting rent from our tenant.” He shakes his head as if annoyed by the interruption. “She’s late on her payment, so we’re taking our arrears.”

His thick friend looks on lazily as the reedy Siphon leans back in for a bite. The woman is sobbing, quaking in fear. Everything about this is wrong.

“Like fuck you are!” My daggers move before my mouth finishes the words.

And I liberate the pale Siphon’s head from his shoulders. It hits the paving stones and bounces once before rolling into the gutter.

The woman screams again as she is drenched in blood—a long, high wail.

The thick Siphon looks at me and Meryn in offended shock. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

At lightning speed, he grabs Meryn, hands wrapping around her skull in clear warning. Poised to snap her neck if I make the slightest move.

I freeze, assessing what to do next that won’t trigger his violence.

Just then, Elias and Davide race down the alley toward us from the other direction. “Unhand her at once,” Davide snaps.

The Siphons stand off, all three with fangs bared.

“Consider this an order from your king,” Elias says coldly. He reaches into his tunic pocket and pulls out a golden brooch, a sun with wavy rays.

Nobody moves for a tense moment. Then the Siphon man reluctantly steps backward, relinquishing his grip on Meryn and pushing her away.

Clearly, the brooch must mean something—the symbol of Lucien Brightbane, perhaps.

“Our friends are new in town,” Davide interjects, conciliatory. He hands over two of the bags in his arm to the disgruntled Siphon. “They don’t know any better. Please take this with our apologies for your inconvenience.”

Elias grabs Meryn’s arm and drags her away from the scene as I follow.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters under his breath. “Killing a civilian the minute I let you two out of my sight.”

He finally lets her go once we’re several streets away.

“What the fuck, Elias,” Meryn grates out.

Elias and Davide exchange a look.

“Here in Astreona, if humans can’t make payment owed by coin, Siphons are well within their rights to take blood payment instead. That landlord wasn’t breaking any law.” Elias’s face is impassive as he explains this barbarism.

I clench my fists. So much for this country being better than Nocturna.

Meryn is shaking in anger. “So you’re saying we just left that woman with a Siphon who’s going to feed on her without her consent! And it’s allowed.”

Elias crosses his arms. “It’s a payment. What’s not allowed is enacting your own sense of justice without any regard to the laws of the country you’re visiting. Moreover, someone is dead, and that human woman you thought you were helping will be held responsible for it.”

Meryn’s face reddens. “What does that mean?”

When no response comes, she stalks away in anger.

We all remount our horses in silence. Meryn sits as far forward in the saddle as she possibly can and manages to avoid touching me the entire way back.

By the time we get to the stables, wrath radiates off her. It’s a surprise she hasn’t summoned her shadows. I slide off the horse first and offer her a hand, but she swats it, getting down on her own.

She turns to walk away, but then stops and advances on me, her face an unreadable mask.

“You are a broken man,” she says tersely, speaking nothing but the truth.

“The shattered pieces of me recognize the shattered pieces of you, and that’s why I am telling you: I will give you time.”

I want to tell her no again. But she’s worn my control so thin, and maybe she sees that on my face, because she presses onward.

“I will give you time, but it won’t be forever. So think about what I said.

Take the leap, Stark. Maybe it will end in destruction. Or maybe it will end in two wrecked people finding a way to build something new in the rubble.”

She stalks off, leaving me in the horse-shit-reeking, hay-strewn stable.

The mare we rode whinnies at me.

“On her side?”

It says nothing, of course. Useless beast.

Could Meryn be right? If every part of me screams to close the distance between us once again, would it really be so wrong to give in?