Fury Bound (The Wolves of Ruin, #2) — Chapter no 54

54

MERYN

he night sky carries a dull glow as Linsfall burns. There are shouts ofT suffering and children crying. And the Mother Priestess, wrapped tight in bands of shadow, smiles at me with flame reflected in her eyes.

It’s a beautiful smile. A gentle smile. And that alone turns my bones to ice. Then she says, “What more is there to say? King Killian’s armies are on their way. He’ll have the Tear in his possession before long, even if I’ve failed him.”

My magic immediately responds, whipping through my veins. I advance on her. “Is Killian coming? Here?”

Her eyes are wild, her face savage. She starts to laugh, the sound manic and bone-chilling. Stark grabs her by the shoulder and shakes. “Answer your queen!”

“You’re not my queen, usurper!” she crows. “You were never deserving!

I won’t tell you a thing!”

I look at her, and all I can see is the human embodiment of all of Killian’s manipulations. I look at her and see him.

I see the way he smiled at me after throwing me into my own dungeons.

My vision goes shadowy at the corners. I don’t even try to stop it. My magic surges. Cut it out, is all I can think. Cut him out.

A dark blade cleaves through her wrists.

The magic moves silently and nearly too quick to see. She gasps and looks down at the stumps where her mangled hands were a moment ago.

They’re on the ground now, their withered shapes nearly unrecognizable as hands after the Tear’s burn.

Blood pours down like rain onto the frozen ground.

Then her shock and confusion turn to outright pain.

The Mother Priestess opens her mouth to scream. I hear the sharp intake of her breath, and then I break her neck before she has a chance to voice her suffering.

Her body slumps and slips to the ground. It thuds heavily, her skirts falling in a heap around her as blood still leaks from her wrists.

Stark watches me with steady eyes. I’m too angry to question my own actions or weigh the consequences.

“Do you think she was telling the truth? That an army is on its way?” I ask him.

Stark narrows his eyes, glancing down at the body. “I don’t know. Do you…” He pauses, looking like he’s wrestling with himself, then continues.

“Do you have the strength to use your foresight?”

I take several deep breaths. “I don’t know,” I reply, but I move to stand next to Anassa so that I can lean against her side and try. “It should be simple to see what’s coming in the next few hours, at least. That’s not as much of a push.”

Closing my eyes, exhaustion swirls. I have to focus on my foresight magic for nearly a full minute before I fall into the snatches of vision.

I see: Me and Stark, reuniting with Venna and Noemi, Linsfall burning behind us.

And then—yes, a squadron of Bonded riding hard and arriving at Linsfall. Enemies? Friends? I push further into the vision and see a face: Jonah.

There’s no way to tell exactly how quickly this future will come to pass.

In the vision, though, it’s still pitch-black night, and the fires of Linsfall still

rage.

Gasping, I pull back from the magic.

I fist my hand in Anassa’s coat, holding on to keep from sagging to the ground.

“She wasn’t lying,” I say, my voice choked with weariness. “Jonah and a squadron of Bonded are on their way here.”

“Too many for us to fight?” Stark’s eyes are lethal.

I hesitate. “We could probably take them, you and I. If we were fresh.

But what if some of them aren’t truly our enemies? What if they’re under Killian’s influence? I don’t want to kill any more of our own if we don’t need to.”

Stark’s eyes flash, but he mounts up. “Let’s get back to our companions.”

We find Noemi and Venna helping at the makeshift camp that’s formed outside the ruined Linsfall walls. A few Linsfall residents have begun to warily reenter the city now that the quaking has stopped, but most seem to prefer to wait longer until they’re absolutely sure the danger has passed.

Drawing our friends aside, I quickly explain that we need to get moving, that our enemies are coming here and fast.

“But what about these people?” Noemi responds with a pulse of anxiety.

“Noemi,” Stark scolds for resisting my order. She glares at him, but Ephyse’s ears tuck back as Cratos approaches.

I survey the crowd gathered around us. They’re scared, injured, confused. Their home is in ruins. Burning.

My insides alternate between scalding heat and sickening cold. “I have to believe that Killian’s Bonded won’t hurt them,” I say, communicating over the bonds with the group to avoid the chance of being overheard.

“Their battle isn’t with the commoners of Linsfall. He likely wants them on his side.”

Venna hesitates. “You have the last Tear?”

“I do.”

“And… it caused all this?” Venna gestures helplessly around her.

I swallow. “I don’t know for sure. But, yes, I believe so.”

That seems to decide it for her. “We must not let that power fall into enemy hands. We should find somewhere safe to regroup.”

I’m grateful, then, that I’m not the only one who thinks we need to leave —no matter how in need these people are. Venna, a friend with more compassion than me, supports this decision.

“Agreed,” I say. “United with Lucien, we’ll have six Tears on our side.

Even with Killian sapping my magic and Alistair’s strength, we should have the power to take him down. Then we can come back here and rebuild. But we should choose the time and place of that fight.”

Stark grudgingly agrees. “We need a plan, not to make a desperate last stand after a long night of tiring ourselves out.”

“Let’s go. Right now,” I order, and the rest of us mount up. We did what we could, but we’re out of time.

We start to fall into traveling formation, but before we can move, a trembling voice calls out from the crowd. “You’re abandoning us, Your Highness?”

My throat closes up, and I can’t so much as turn to seek out the source of the question. The wail of a child shrieks over my skin, rending me open.

“I’m so sorry to leave you like this,” I tell them. There’s no way to know whether my voice carries across the crowd.

Whether any of them will even hear my apology.

I force myself to look at the sea of faces before and behind me, doing everything I can not to remember the faces of the lost, those I’ve sent into the unknown and those taken from me.

“I will never abandon you. I promise. Whether you believe I’m your rightful ruler or that Killian Valtiere is, I have sworn my life to you, the people of Nocturna. At this moment, I’m being pursued, and the safest thing I can do for you is leave. As soon as I have troops under my command, we will return to Linsfall to help rebuild. Until then, I know you can count on one another.” Then I urge Anassa forward.

There are no more questions as we ride toward the camp where Elias and Lucien wait.

We move at speed in perfect formation. Stark is at my side, leading with me. Noemi rides on my other side for protection. Venna rides behind us, ready to alert us quickly if we’re being followed.

There’s smoke in my lungs as we pound over the frozen dirt. The hilt of my dagger is cold in my grip, radiating pain up my arm.

I’m so wrung out that I don’t know if I could conjure a whisper of magic. But my daggers have never failed me.

We race through the woods and out toward our campsite without incident, our wolves pushing hard to get us away from danger as quickly as they can.

The fire of our camp is visible on the next hill. And then a shiver of awareness draws my attention to our bonds. Venna sensed something.

I don’t have time to fully perceive it before a high-pitched hiss of air touches one of my ears and then the other. Then a thud, a whimper cut short.

Blinding pain ruptures through my connection.

I choke and nearly fall off Anassa; the hand I’m gripping her with has an impulse to snap to my throat, to stop the bleeding.

“Stop!” I scream at Anassa, both aloud and echoing over our bond, and her paws scrape deep grooves in the ground as she fights her momentum.

I whirl around.

Venna’s wolf Skaia is on the ground. A massive arrow is punched clear

through her throat.

She’s bleeding so much. She’s—

She’s dying.

And Venna— She’s on the ground next to Skaia, on her back, hands closed around her throat, writhing in agony.

My heart skips, my vision blurry. For a second, I can only stare at her.

Her face and Izabel’s meld in my vision, and it’s both of them in front of me, twisting in pain. Dying. Because of me.

I’m frozen in time, as if everything happening is in the past, a wrenching memory. My mind detaches, fragments.

Noemi has leaped to the ground, racing toward Venna.

“Stop them, Meryn!” she screams, her voice strangled.

“Behind us, Meryn.” Anassa’s voice breaks through my anguish. “At the tree line.”

Anassa wheels around. My eyes struggle, then focus on the edge of the forest to the west. A wall of Killian’s Bonded on wolfback waits there for orders, their wolves’ eyes flashing from the darkness between the trees.

Jonah has stepped out of the shadows. He holds a bow and is swiftly nocking another arrow. I can see his wide smile even from here, his white teeth flashing like fangs.

Another flash hits me, this one born of pure anger.

I will not let him take anyone else from me. I will not.

My shadow power rises, vengeance incarnate. But at the same time, I’m tired, so tired. My body strains tight as a bowstring, tight enough to snap.

“Meryn. It’s too much.” Anassa’s voice tears through my mind.

No. I will not let it break me.

Without giving myself time to doubt the decision, I thrust my hand into the pack at my side, pulling out the Tear that wreaks destruction.

The moment my skin makes contact, power rushes in my veins. My exhaustion is gone. My power surges high. It fills me, rushes through me and into the Tear.

I raise the gem above my head, and once again, that eerie light shines.

Like a cold white sunrise.

Jonah falters. His raised bow lowers, and the whites of his eyes flash.

Phylax magic lights up the canopy. The other Bonded erect massive shields

because they know I’m coming for them.

Not my people. Not mine.

Magic ruptures from my chest with force that blows my hair back.

I’m ready to destroy.

The image of Linsfall caving in on itself rises in my mind.

I point my hand at the line of traitor Bonded and give a shout.

A massive cavern of darkness opens, a fissure in the land between us and them.

Wolves and riders are swallowed. Screams echo and fall, endlessly down. Trees tumble into the darkness, roots cracking and breaking. My power creates a maelstrom of wind, and the enemy line is dashed into the ground, many of them slipping into that slash of blackness.

I watch as the enemies disappear, that gap widening, widening.

Then comes the sound of Venna’s dying breaths.

Venna. I let my hand fall.

Anassa sprints to her side. Tumbling from her back, I hit the ground hard. I catch myself on my hands and use them to pull myself forward and find my feet. A desperate cry scrapes from my throat.

The others are already gathered around Venna. Noemi holds the hand that isn’t still clutching her throat, scratching the skin to bleeding.

There’s a sound like a wind whistling and a streak of color over the ground between here and our camp—and then Lucien is here, too, bending over Venna as well. His face is grim. Elias is in the background, his face set in an equally dire expression.

Venna’s eyes are bloodshot. Her face is going pale and ghostly. She’s making sounds like she’s trying to breathe but can’t get the air past the wound in her wolf’s throat.

Her wolf is gurgling, her eyes unseeing.

“Skaia is holding on,” Anassa whispers. “For her.”

For her goodbye. Agony tears through me, my every nerve in pain.

“M—” Venna tries, eyes tracking me.

I collapse next to her, tears burning on my cheeks as I hold her face.

“Don’t talk. It’s okay. Hey. It’s okay.”

Her lips move, but no sound emerges. My body runs cold and hot and I start to shake.

“No. Venna, no,” I say, beg, cry. Not you, too.

We didn’t have enough time. We were just starting to forge a deep friendship all our own. Venna, who has no trouble calling me out. Venna, wry and smart. Venna, who already faced the worst thing she could and stunned me with her courage to keep moving on.

Why?

Her hand leaves her throat. A tear spills from her eye. She won’t stop looking at me. Reaching, I realize. I take her hand and sob.

“Stay with us,” I say over the bond in desperation. “Don’t leave me.”

A gentle emotion drifts through our fraying bond. Small, quiet.

Love.

“Meryn.” Lucien’s voice. I push it aside, going deeper into the bond, searching for Venna’s spark there, where it’s fading so fast. Following it

down into the darkness.

I can’t let her go— A hand slams into my shoulder. I tumble backward, losing the connection to Venna. Lucien’s startling strength knocks me flat.

“Let me,” his voice comes urgent.

I watch, shocked, as his hands close around Venna’s throat. He touches her chest, then, right above her heart.

Then he lifts his wrist to his mouth and rips into it with his fangs. A chunk of his flesh comes away, and his blood bursts from the wound and spatters over her chest. I watch, drifting away from myself. I watch Lucien hold his bloody wrist to her mouth.

My breath catches in my throat as I realize what he’s offering her.

“Drink,” he orders.

But she turns her head to the side, resisting with her last strength, fear in her eyes.

“Venna, please,” I beg her. But I don’t know what I’m asking for. To drink? Or to stay strong and refuse, even as it costs her her life?

What would I choose if given the chance? Death? Or— Venna turns her head and looks at her wolf. She looks to her for counsel.

Skaia’s eyes are closed, her breath fading. She can’t help Venna now.

They’ll both be gone in seconds.

No. I want so badly for her to stay. Venna deserves a long, full life. It’s not my choice to make though, and my pulse starts to pound behind my eyes. Choose, Venna, choose.

Lucien’s face contorts. Briefly, he sits back, his wrist leaving her lips.

But then something comes over him. Something acute and wild. Something real. Something almost human.

Venna sees it, too, and I watch as something stubborn comes back into her gaze. With her last strength, she grasps his wrist feebly, brings it to her mouth.

Blood coats her cheeks, her lips, and she drinks.

Venna’s wolf gives one last, low sound. A groan swallowed by death.

Skaia’s back foot twitches, and she goes still.

There’s a wrenching gap inside me.

It isn’t just her wolf gone from the pack.

Venna’s beyond me now.

She’s right here, alive, color returning to her cheeks, but I can’t feel her in the bonds.

My ears are ringing. Everything is numb.

“Meryn.” It’s Stark.

I let out a sob and lean back. I can’t hold myself up, and he’s there. I lean against his leg, cheek to his thigh, clinging to his ankle.

She’s alive.

She’s a Siphon.

But she’s alive.

Stark’s fingertips trace slow circles on the back of my neck. “We don’t have time, Meryn,” his voice tells me, cutting through the fog. “There might be more of them coming. They might find a way across… what you did. We need to get out of here, get her to safety.”

My vision focuses. I swallow. There are tears on my face, but I can see clearly.

“Back on your wolves,” I bark. The order for myself as much as for any of them.

Stark and Noemi move quickly. Lucien remains sitting beside Venna, a stony expression on his face, blood still dripping from his wrist where it’s resting on his raised knee.

Venna is on her back, eyes staring up at the smoky sky. Blood is smeared across her chin.

I take her hand. “Up. Get up. Now.” The words come out gentle, pleading.

“My… She…” Venna rasps. Her eyes turn from the sky toward Skaia.

She lets out a cry that will haunt me for the rest of my life and I almost slide back onto the ground with her.

What if it were Anassa lying there? What if she’d been cut from me and I’d been severed from my entire pack by a single arrow?

What if I were no longer Bonded?

My instinct to use pack authority to get her on her feet is like salt ground into a raw wound. It won’t work any longer. Not on Venna.

Venna rolls over weakly, reaching for Skaia, just barely touching her tail. My vision focuses on fur matted with blood.

It’s cruel how lively her gray fur looks, dancing in the wind but tethered to a corpse.

I take Venna’s outstretched hand and pull her away from her wolf. She screams as if I’m killing her. I drape the arm over my shoulder and use my legs to pull us up.

My world feels as if it’s coming apart at the edges, and even still, I have to keep us moving.

She made her choice. I need to do my part and honor that by making sure we stay alive.

Stark is there, pulling with me. Venna sags. Her legs are limp. She’s mumbling.

Anassa bows before Skaia. She stares at the direwolf’s body as Stark helps me put Venna on Anassa’s back.

I take a step back to sign my next words. “You will never be alone, Venna,” I tell her, fumbling over the words in sign language, but doing my best. “I swear it.”

I jump up behind my friend, my family, and close my arms around her.

She slumps—asleep, or passed out. It’s a blessing, I think; she doesn’t have to see us ride away from her wolf. She won’t have to carry that vision with

her for the rest of eternity.

“Move. Fast!” Stark bellows, taking off on Cratos, Elias seated behind him.

Lucien’s head whips around as he rides past us on Noemi’s wolf. He only looks forward again once we catch up. We ride, and we ride fast under

cover of magic.

Venna’s wolf is left to the crows.