Fury Bound (The Wolves of Ruin, #2) — Chapter no 8

8

STARK

f someone told me I’d one day lose sleep to keep a Siphon safe fromI harm, I’d have laughed in their face. And then probably snapped their neck for good measure because they were too stupid to live.

Yet, here I am, seated on the uncomfortable stone tile of the hallway, doing exactly that.

It’s only been a quarter of an hour or so since I relieved Grigore of his guard duty, taking his place outside Meryn’s chambers to ensure that nobody unwelcome goes in… and that Saela doesn’t come out for a midnight snack.

Cratos is curled up next to me, his pose lazy but his green eyes sharp and ready for action. He and I have been mentally reviewing the day’s events, talking through what must be done in the morning—specifically, the things we’ll be expected to help out with before the coronation.

With the newly Bonded finally departed for the front, it will be quiet around here tomorrow.

It was strange, watching them leave and not going with them. I’ve been away from the front—and from the rest of the Daemos pack—for far too long. Thankfully, my Beta is seasoned and stays in constant communication.

But somehow, even though I spent the past four months waiting impatiently for Meryn to get it the fuck together and reclaim her crown, I always assumed I’d head back to active duty.

Hanging my head, I take a deep breath, then crack my neck. An itchiness builds inside me. I don’t do well with sitting around or with feeling like I’m not in charge, and the past few months have been too much of both.

It’s enough to make a man lose control.

A soft, feminine cough comes from somewhere inside the room behind me, and I clench my jaw. If she’s not careful, I just might lose control on her.

Last night, when she had that dream, Cratos opened himself back up to me, that asshole. I felt her agony as if it were happening to me, too, and I’ve never moved through the halls so fast, desperate to just make it end.

And then there she was.

In a fucking silk nightgown hitched up to her hips, her nipples hard through the thin fabric, and that horrible mate bond on full blast. I slid a hand down her arm to wake her up and so nearly lost it, marveling in the sensation of her soft skin.

She let out a mewling moan at my touch, and it took every inch of my control to not keep going, to see what other sounds I could strum out of her with my hands.

Thankfully, she opened her eyes and lied to my face. Whatever was happening, it was far more than some bad dream, and I could tell. The lie was a splash of ice water on a freezing day.

By the time Cratos brought the shield back down, I got a good hard look at the utter pigpen she created out of her room in a matter of hours.

Who lives like that?

My disgust shook me out of any last lingering, insensible attraction.

I don’t know what I’m going to do about Meryn Sturmfrost. But since ripping her clothes off and bending her over the breakfast table isn’t a viable option, I might throw her irritating ass out a window the next time she tries my patience.

My head snaps up at the click of boots approaching from down the hall.

The hour is late enough that anyone not on duty should be in bed. Cratos jumps to his paws, ready for anything.

Then the person turns the corner and comes into view. I groan internally as her face comes into focus—the Sovereign Alpha. Siegrid.

My mother.

Their traveling party must have just arrived.

She’s as immaculately turned out as always, her graying brown hair pulled back tightly into a knot at the top of her neck that’s both elegant and practical. She wears her formal uniform, and her ornate leathers are polished and gleaming from the pads at her shoulders down to the tips of

her boots.

Siegrid’s skin is nearly the same shade of brown as mine, a light chestnut color, and only the slightest touch of worry lines creases her forehead despite her many years in command, as if she can order even her own skin to stay in fine form.

Her eyes light in recognition as she approaches. “Alpha,” she says coolly, setting her bags down in the hall. Her towering, sleek black direwolf, Genicos, approaches Cratos, and the two of them sniff each other

in greeting.

I nod back. “Sovereign Alpha.”

“Careful now, all this tenderness is going to make you soft,” quips Cratos, and I try not to scowl.

“Get out of my head, and shut the fuck up,” I retort irritably, and I hear the wolf version of a snickering laugh.

Siegrid lifts a hand to gesture at the door behind me. “Is there a reason you’re camped out in front of my rooms at this hour? Something you needed to tell me in person?”

Of course—she’s only just arrived and doesn’t know about the change in sleeping arrangements.

“Queen Meryn sleeps in this suite now,” I say shortly, then grudgingly add some explanation: “She was uncomfortable taking over King Cyril’s quarters, given all that passed between her and his family. I’m sure you understand.”

“Hmm,” Siegrid replies, her neutral tone as good as a loud condemnation. “The queen should be in chambers fit for a queen. It sends a message for her to assume her rightful place. But no matter. If Meryn doesn’t want those rooms, I’ll take them.”

Siegrid grabs her bags and spins on her heel, heading toward the king’s old suite with Genicos at her heel before I have a chance to reply.

Watching her walk away, there’s a tightness in my chest. She might be right. It may have been a better move for Meryn to take over the king’s rooms, comfort or no.

Either way, I immediately wish we’d thought of another place for Siegrid to go, rather than installing the Sovereign Alpha in such a powerful

position.

She’s powerful enough as it is.

Before she rounds the corner, Siegrid turns back and looks at me expectantly. “Alpha? You may as well come along. I’ll hear your report on the events of the past week. Since you’re here anyway.”

She’s higher ranked than I am. She’s always been higher ranked than I am. It still sets my teeth on edge the way she expects immediate obedience from everyone around her—but especially from me.

“Is there anything more heartwarming than a mother’s love?” Cratos’s amusement tips my annoyance over into resigned acceptance. He settles back down in front of the door.

“No, I should stay on guard with you here.”

“I think I can handle a rogue baby bloodsucker on my own. Go.”

Sighing, I stand and take off down the hall after Siegrid.

Thanks for the backup, Cratos.

Siegrid paces around the king’s lush chambers as I give her the rundown on events since Cyril’s death. She’s pulling portraits off the walls and piling them in a heap on the floor, rearranging the furniture to her liking.

It’s typical, Siegrid acting like she owns the place, and a familiar old resentment toward her starts to build in my chest. The world is not hers to control.

“Servants can deal with that in the morning,” she notes about the pile of dead king paintings as I wrap up my report.

She’s clearly assuming I’ll make the necessary arrangements. My teeth start to grind.

“What is your personal perspective on our new queen, since you’ve spent time training her?” Siegrid settles into a deep red armchair by the fireplace, finally coming to rest. She set one of her traveling bags on the chair directly across from her and makes no motion to move it so I can sit down, too.

Somehow I manage not to growl in frustration.

Classic Siegrid move, making me hunt for a way to put us on the same footing. I drag one of the spindly wooden chairs from the dining area over

to sit across from her.

She’s tactical at all times. Often, I get the sense that she sees other people—me, especially—as nothing more than pieces to move around a strategy board. She would’ve made an excellent Strategos, if her astounding ruthlessness didn’t so clearly mark her as Daemos.

“Queen Meryn…” I consider what to share. I need to be honest, but I don’t want to give her too much, either. Siegrid is hard to trust. “She’s rough, vicious. She has a sharp tongue and only a bare minimum of self- control.”

And despite that, she has the potential to be a just and fair ruler, if I can keep her away from you.

Siegrid narrows her eyes, tipping her head back. “I know the type.”

If I’m vicious and rough, it’s only because that’s what she made me. But I ignore the cheap jab.

She reaches her arms above her head, knuckles cracking as she leans into the stretch. “Hmm. I suppose she’s young. Still…”

She pauses, thinking through something. It looks like she’s communicating with Genicos, although he’s seated in front of the fire, his eyes closed.

“Perhaps it’d be better to dispose of her and train the younger sister instead? We could do that if we wanted. The younger they are, the more you can mold them. Plus, the younger one’s been less in the public eye. We’d be more likely to create a persona from scratch, something that would go over well with the populace.”

Dispose of her? Violence tears through me at the suggestion, and I stand so quickly that my chair clatters to the floor. Before I can take so much as a step in her direction, though, the door to her chambers bursts open, wood splintering across the floor.

Cratos is crouched in an attack position, his fangs bared and dripping saliva. He lets out a fierce growling bark at Siegrid, who steps back, startled. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this surprised before.

Good.

Genicos leaps to his paws, growls back, and lunges toward Cratos. The two start to wrestle, black fur flying as they nip at each other. They knock into a tea table, snapping it into pieces. Genicos is taller than Cratos, but my direwolf is thicker, more muscular.

Cratos pins Genicos, eyes wild, and clamps his jaw around the other wolf’s neck. Then he looks to Siegrid and lets out another low warning growl.

“What is the meaning of this?” Siegrid shouts shrilly. “Cratos, what are you doing!”

Her disheveled, shocked appearance is delightful. “You casually suggested killing his mate’s rider. He does not approve.”

If possible, her brows shoot even higher and her jaw drops open, just for a moment. Then she shuts her mouth, shakes her shoulders, and stands up straight again.

“My apologies, Cratos,” she says directly to my wolf. “I wasn’t aware, and I will change strategies. Your mate will not be harmed.”

Cratos gently gets off Genicos, who quickly butts him in the head and snarls, then retreats to the far side of the room. Still, I scoff.

Change strategies. Because that’s all she sees Meryn as: a strategy.

Heat creeps up my neck. I know only too well what happens to those Siegrid sees as a tool instead of as a person. After all, I’m her most carefully craftly instrument.

I might be worried about my own influence on Meryn, but the Sovereign Alpha would be so much worse.

Siegrid slides smoothly back down into her chair, and I right mine, sitting as well. “So Cratos is mated to Meryn’s direwolf, hmm? How interesting that you’ve neglected to tell me that piece of information.”

Cratos lies down at my side, his eyes still fixed on Siegrid as if waiting for another threat. Clearly, this is more important to him right now than guarding Saela, and I don’t blame him.

“Grigore,” I think, reaching out to my packmate. “Cratos had to leave his post, please get back on guard in front of the queen’s chambers immediately.”

Then I run a hand down Cratos’s back, trying to calm him. “Forgive me for thinking that the woman bonded to Cratos’s mate deserved to learn of it before anyone else. Since when have you taken an interest in my life, anyway?”

Siegrid’s face twists in a scowl, and for a second, it’s like looking in a mirror, which just makes me more on edge.

“You know this is bigger than just you,” she snipes. “She’s the queen,

Stark. Were you aware that historically, the wolves of Sturmfrost Queens have always had mates? And that the riders are typically involved with each other?”

A chill runs through me. “No, I was not aware of that, since you keep so much information to yourself, Sovereign Alpha.”

She doesn’t blink at my harsh tone. “This is an excellent development.

You should woo her.”

“I agree,” Cratos says.

My stomach bottoms out. The last thing I need is to spend more time in close proximity with Meryn.

“Like fuck I will,” I growl. “Are you out of your mind?”

Siegrid lifts a shoulder casually, as if making a suggestion for a paint color and not a romantic partner. “Why not? Your wolves are mated. You have an infamous reputation for your escapades at the front, so I’m well aware that you are not otherwise engaged. She’s powerful and relatively attractive. You could do worse.”

Meryn’s long, toned legs exposed to me in the moonlight. The full shape of her breasts under that nightgown. Her pert mouth that spews tart words but looks like it would taste so sweet.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing fucking relative about Meryn’s looks.

“You know, you would probably get to see her naked,” Cratos helpfully chimes in.

“One more word out of you and I’ll have you kenneled,” I toss back.

As attractive as the queen is, it’s a line I’m never going to cross.

What happened in the arena with her killing those Bonded… I caused that. I saw the moment she debated whether to use her powers, and the chaos inside me spoke up, egging her on, encouraging her.

When she took those lives, a dark thrill lit my veins—so much raw, unvarnished power. She should have every man groveling at her feet.

Our country needs her to be a steady leader, and I’d only corrupt her.

The depraved parts of me long for it.

Siegrid just folds her hands onto her lap and frowns at me like I’m being the unreasonable one. “It makes good sense, and it would bring our family that much closer to control.”

And there’s that reminder again: Everything is about control with Siegrid.

I might be a bad influence on Meryn, but I need to keep Siegrid away from her at all costs. I’m a living record of the damage the Sovereign Alpha can wreak on a person in the name of seeking and retaining power. If she lays so much as a finger on the queen… I stand abruptly and walk away, pacing throughout the room. If my body stops moving for even one moment, I’m going to punch the self-satisfied look off this woman’s face, and I really don’t think I should hit the person who birthed me.

“First of all,” I grit out as I pace, “I am not interested in wooing her.

She’s made it very clear that she dislikes me, and I can assure you it’s mutual. She drives me mad, and spending more time than strictly necessary in her presence sounds like torture.”

“You don’t have to like someone to be with them,” Siegrid retorts.

Unbelievable.

“Second,” I continue loudly, “even if I was interested, you are talking about a woman who had her heart savagely torn out mere days ago. She’s an absolute wreck.”

Siegrid sniffs. “Hearts heal. She will eventually have to marry. Do you want to suffer through your wolves’ mate bond while she marries someone else? The queen’s future marriage is a state matter. Whether or not you’re interested, our family will help her make those decisions.”

I say nothing, too livid to speak.

“Just continue to think about it, that’s all I ask, Alpha Stark.” She manages to make the title sound like an insult; her voice is sharp as a knife, but she can’t quite pierce me, not after all these years of building up my armor.

I can’t do this fucking dance with her anymore tonight. Looking at Cratos, I say, “Time for us to get back on guard duty.”

He stands, baring his teeth once more at Siegrid in a snarl. Then he whips his tail at her as he turns, slapping her in the leg, and saunters out the half-splintered door.

“By the way,” I say, pausing in the doorframe and looking casually over my shoulder at the Sovereign Alpha. “Meryn’s sister has been turned into a Siphon. The queen is keeping Saela in her chambers, and if you so much as cast either of them an untoward look, I’ll remove those scheming eyes from your head.”

I slam what remains of her door behind me as I leave.