Pack of Wolves, page 11
“I’m sorry,” Cyrus replies, his voice cracking. I did this—I stole my beautiful Iris’s purity. She’s broken and stained because of me. An image appears in Cyrus’s thoughts so quickly he cannot tell if it originated in his own nightmares. A delicate iris blossom falls to the ground, its silky lavender petals coated in mud. Then, Cyrus’s boot heel slams into the bloom, crushing and grinding it under his toe. When he lifts his foot, Iris’s mangled body lies there in the mud, her mouth popping open in anguish. My delicate flower. I’m so sorry I’ve ruined you.
“You stole what little innocence I still had; do you know that?” Iris confirms his deepest fears as she slinks closer, wrapping her hands tightly around Cyrus’s throat. “First Hawk, then Creeper! Every heartless, cruel thing I have done is directly connected to you!”
“I know,” Cyrus chokes on the words as she squeezes. His head throbs in desperation, his lungs begging him to breathe. Just do it, Cyrus begs, staring into Iris’s furious, beautiful face. Save yourself any more pain and end it all. Yet even as he thinks the words, Cyrus feels guilt festering in the scars of his previous hurts. It’ll only cause her to lose more of herself if she kills me. In the end, the guilt of my death would not release her; it would only cripple her further. I’d be another face that would forever haunt her dreams. She doesn’t deserve that! “Iris, don’t do it!” Cyrus gasps, hoping his words stay her hands. “Please—”
“If I kill you now, it only adds to my record of unforgivable sins,” Iris sneers, pressing her fingernails into Cyrus’s skin until they draw blood. “But I could handle it, I think. It might even be seen as vengeance, payment for the hell you’ve put me through.”
“Don’t do it,” Cyrus wheezes, clenching his eyes tight as he waits, accepting whatever fate she chooses for him.
She chose her name because she liked the uniqueness of the iris flower. Suryc’s voice filters through the Vibría’s hateful words filling Cyrus’s mind. They are an anchor to his soul, a tiny gasp of air that brings stillness and clarity. Only the voice of his Ddraig manages to calm the trembling of Cyrus’s nerves. She’s afraid of the water, but she’s never told anyone that. Crossing the River Sangre to get to the Pith was one of the hardest trials she’s had to endure. She told Siri that the only reason she made it across was because she made that Windwalker boy do it first. She has other fears too, a deep-seated loathing of being underground. Spending time in the Pith caverns was especially hard on her too. She loves being in the open air, under the stars….
Sensing that she’s lost her hold over Cyrus, the false Iris backs away from him, planning a new, more excruciating torture. The veil in his mind grows heavier and Suryc’s voice fades away as the false Iris heals her broken, bloody body. Every inch of her skin is now clear, smooth, and supple. Turning her eyes to Wolf, who’s been a silent, watchful party from his perch on the couch, Iris slinks over to his side. “My love,” she whispers as she carefully turns Wolf’s chair so that his back faces Cyrus. The false Iris crawls onto Wolf’s lap, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. “You’ve always been so kind to me. You’ve given me everything I’ve ever needed. How could your brother ever think I would want another?” She kisses her way along Wolf’s neck, but her eyes stare deeply at Cyrus, challenging him, begging him to cry. Her fingers nestle into the hair at the back of Wolf’s head. “How could he think he could ever compare to you?”
“Stop this!” Cyrus shouts suddenly, straining hard against the bindings holding him to the wooden chair. “Please, I’ve had enough!” She couldn’t still care for him! Not after everything she’s learned. Even if she never forgives me, there’s no way she would choose him!
“Oh, now I see it,” the monster whispers as she pulls Wolf’s arms around her waist. “I knew it would hurt you to see her loving another.” She sighs as Wolf’s hands paw their way across her body, reaching up to cup his cheek. “But I think it tortures you even more to think of her loving your brother! Salt in the proverbial wound?”
Iris believes herself to be weak. She thinks that she is feeble minded, and it makes her very insecure. Siri told me that she second guesses almost every action in her life, with only a few exceptions. Suryc’s voice rumbles through Cyrus’s mind, jarring all his jealousy until it is numbed. Her greatest moments are the ones where she acted without overthinking. She doesn’t regret ending Hawk’s misery or hunting Creeper. Siri even said that after the Carreglas revealed some of Wolf’s true nature, Iris was relieved that she’d never told Wolf that she loved him. She’s grown to hate him, Cyrus. And she’s still kicking herself for ever helping that boy from Déchets. That failure is tearing her apart. It’s all an illusion, Cyrus! Don’t get lost in your feelings!
A loud crack draw’s Cyrus’s focus back from his Ddraig. The false Iris skids across the floor, a hand covering one cheek as her eyes glitter with tears. Wolf stalks closer, lashing out to kick her. Iris croaks out a soft wail, scooting away from Wolf until her back hits the wall by Cyrus’s chair. Fear hunches her shoulders as she cowers. “Please! Don’t hurt me! Cyrus, don’t let him hurt me!”
“I’ll do what I please, woman,” Wolf growls, raising a hand to backhand her again. “It brings me joy to punish you for doubting me even once!” Iris crawls toward the door, but Wolf only catches her ankle and drags her back. “I protected you! I pampered you and sheltered you when you had no one! Time and time again I proved that I loved you! And still, you chose to go with him! How could you betray me?” Wolf drops to his knees over Iris’s shivering form, pinning her arms by her sides. Her feeble attempts to free herself are no match for Wolf’s strength. He leans down over her neck, nipping her skin with his pointed teeth. Iris stills her body so that Wolf’s teeth do not draw blood. “You are mine!” He roars, his voice wild with his rage.
A look of genuine fear crosses Iris’s face. For a brief second, her visage melts away to the Vibría’s true image. The boy eyes Wolf warily, wondering if his visions have worked on his leader rather than his prey. Wolf’s crazed expression calms marginally, and he shakes his head a couple of times as though he’s coming out of a daze. Then, nodding once to assure the boy that he’s back to his normal self, Wolf launches into his fury once again.
“Please, don’t do this!” The false Iris returns, her voice full of unshed tears as she pleas for her safety.
“Stop that!” Cyrus demands, thrashing against the straps that secure him to the chair. The brief exchange between the Vibría creature and Wolf happen too quickly for Cyrus to notice. Now, all Cyrus can see are his beloved’s tears and the colorful bruising already flowering on her cheek. “Leave her alone! She’s done nothing to you, Wolf! Take all your anger out on me, not her! Wolf!”
“What did I do?” Iris whispers as Wolf’s hands paw their way along her body. “Please.”
“Oh, shut up!” Wolf howls, swiftly standing and jerking Iris upright by her hair. A wicked gleam overtakes his eyes as he drags her body in front of Cyrus’s chair. Pulling a knife, he presses the blade against Iris’s throat. “Tell him everything you’ve held back before you die,” he commands, his hand quivering with his restraint.
Iris’s tears fall as she smiles wistfully at Cyrus. “I’m sorry,” she hiccups as she pours her heart out her mouth. “I blamed you for a great many things that were never your fault.”
Wolf slams his palm into the back of Iris’s head, the force causing the blade to bite into her skin. Though superficial, blood oozes down her throat almost immediately. “Tell him how you love him! Tell him that even though I’m the one you’ve depended on for years, he’s the one that has your heart! Tell him how—”
“Wolf, stop it!” This isn’t Iris. She’d never in a million years say such things to me. But oh, how painfully delicious it would be to hear those words from her tongue. Even if it isn’t real. In that moment, Cyrus knows that his brother has won this battle. For there is nothing that can shatter a man’s heart more completely that to hear his heart’s desires, watch as his truest love is ripped away from him, and know that he is utterly helpless. “Please, Wolf,” Cyrus begs, his voice low and expressionless as defeat overpowers his resolve.
Iris’s lip quivers, her teeth nipping at its soft flesh in an effort to still the action. “All those years in the house together, and I never told you how jealous I was of Falcon. That you chose to spend your nights with her instead of with me. I think that’s why I lashed out at you so much—I was just sore. Wolf was a good friend and ally to me, but you’re the one who always held my heart.”
She’d never be that sappy, Cyrus attempts to assure himself, even as the creature’s words send a tremor to his heart. She wouldn’t—but oh, if she did! “Enough, please. I can bear no more.”
“And that evening that I was locked in the traitor binds, when you brought me water and food—I pushed you away, when all I really wanted to do was be close to you. I wasted all my time fighting with you, Cyrus. And I’m sorry; I’m so, so sorry,” Iris whimpers, tears making her beautiful eyes appear glassy as she shivers. “You’ve always looked out for me from afar, and I was just too stupid to notice. So, when we became Cadogans, I just knew our time had finally come. I’m so sorry it’s ending like this.”
Not her, not her, Cyrus chants, trying to force his mind not to listen to the false Iris’s confessions. She doesn’t love me; she hates me. I drove her to hate me. That realization is almost as agonizing as the Vibría’s torture itself.
“Say your goodbyes, brother” Wolf demands, grinning widely as he slides the knife across Iris’s neck with a sickly, slurping sound.
Blood splatters across Cyrus’s face, pumping steadily out of Iris’s throat. Still, her voice manages to wheeze, “I…loved…you,” before her body collapses forward. She lands on his knees, her life blood coating his pants in warm, sticky waves. The feeling is so revolting that Cyrus vomits, rocking his body from side to side in an effort to wriggle free of her hold. Sobs overtake Cyrus as she heaves her final sigh. How long have I wished to hear her say that? How many nights have I dreamed of hearing those words?
It’s not her, Suryc reminds gently, but Cyrus’s hysterical mind cannot make sense of his words.
And now, to finally reach that dream only to feel her death as if it were my own blood. I can’t…I can’t…. Cyrus’s breaths become erratic, his eyes wild. “No more! NO MORE!” He repeats, his head thrashing from side to side.
Iris’s cold, deathly hands suddenly grip his knees. She inches higher, her lifeless head raising to reveal a mask of death. Her eyes and skin have a grayish tinge, her blue lips twisting into an insane smile. She crawls her way up Cyrus’s lap, laughing maniacally as she moves.
Cyrus’s panic quickly morphs to terror. “Get away! Get away! Oh please, no more!” He shouts as he struggles against his binds. Not real, not her! Suryc! Help me!
“What? No kiss hello? I’m still alive, my darling,” Iris wheezes, her voice echoing through the hole at her throat. Looking closely, Cyrus can see her neck bones exposed by the force of Wolf’s blade. “Come on, lover—don’t you still want me?”
Cyrus screams, and despite any attempts at consolation from Suryc, nothing breaks through to him. Iris’s hands wind into the hair at the nape of Cyrus’s neck, her face creeping closer and closer to his. Her bloody lips pucker over Cyrus’s widely gaping mouth, patiently waiting for him to take a breath or quit screaming long enough to endure her kiss.
Yet before she can fulfill her action, Wolf growls a soft command. “That’s enough for now. I’m getting hungry. Leave us.”
Immediately the creature leaps off Cyrus’s lap, its body resuming the form of the small boy. “As you desire,” the strange insect sounding voice whispers. With a small bow, the boy disappears out the main entry to the House of Vultures.
None of this registers to Cyrus. His mind is so far gone that he doesn’t even flinch when the screen door slams shut. His eyes are wide, his voice mumbling incoherent words, and his legs tremble in their blood stiffened pants. In this moment, not even Suryc can call him out of the depths of his despair.
Chapter 8
“We’ve exhausted this land, I think,” Lerual mumbles to me as we scour the tree line for any more nomads that might have moved in overnight. “The ground needs time to replenish, the game needs time to restock, and we’re just flying in circles, Iris.”
“I know,” I snap, immediately regretting the harshness of my tone. “I’m sorry, Lerual. It’s not your fault that the nomads are struggling and I can’t be the leader they need me to be.” She’s just so much like Warbler it’s uncanny, I confess to Siri, wishing that I could hear my dear friend’s voice one more time. Lerual’s bright eyes trick me, forcing my memories of Warbler’s yellow mask up to the surface of my consciousness once more. My vision clouds with tears as I remember her cheerful singing as she slaved away in the kitchen. I miss that little ray of sunlight in my life.
And where my dear friend’s ghost appears, the monster who brutalized her skulks in the fringes. Even now I see him smiling from the shadows of my mind. His crooked, yellowed teeth mock me; his dull, dark eyes scoff at me even as my hands grip the hilt of my knife, threatening to smash it through his imagined face. I’m haunted, Siri. How do I get over all of this? How do I forget all the damage I’ve done?
I wish I had that answer, I really do, Siri whispers, our connection wrapping around me in what can only be described as a mental hug. I feel her sympathy settle on my shoulders like a warm blanket, willing the demons out of my head. Some memories never leave us, Siri murmurs with a sigh, and I wonder what dark moments from her past now parade through her mind. I think they serve as reminders so that when we are put in those situations again, we can be wiser in our choices.
“Gods help us if another predator like Creeper ever shows up in my way again. I’d make the same choice that I did with him, damn the consequences!” I grumble, turning my eyes to the land flying by underneath us, losing myself in the majesty of flight. Every dry blade of grass and each gnarled tree limb that grasps and claws toward the heavens gets my attention. Anything to distract me from focusing on Siri’s soft whisper, I know.
“Iris, I think you should consider moving on from this land,” Lerual whispers, unfazed by my bad attitude and silence. Her lithe green form flits back and forth in the air, constantly searching for movement on the ground. “We still have nearly half of the Ddraigs that are missing their warriors, and we can’t keep hoping they’ll pass through our midst on their own. We need to go somewhere else to get them.”
“I agree, but that raises a lot of problems for us too.” I explain, trying hard to curb my annoyance. “The nomads are fumbling through their attempts to ride their Ddraigs. Despite Drake and Ekard’s best efforts, they are not improving.” That thought brings a smile to my lips; I take great satisfaction in watching Drake flounder with the nomad Cadogans. Petty though it is, I feel justified every time the nomads cannot do what Drake and Ekard command. In some strange way, it makes me feel powerful, needed, and secure in my place as the leader. “The nomads won’t fly with me, Lerual. They do not think of me as their leader. And since I can’t even find out from them who they do follow as the commander among their ranks, I’m stuck!”
Siri butts in before Lerual can respond to my frustrations. “The nomads don’t trust anyone, Iris. Not even their Ddraigs, and that’s the real problem here,” she interjects with a snort. “I think we should tell the Ddraigs to carry their warriors in their claws and get moving….” Siri’s voice fades off, her head turning sharply. Her eyes dart back and forth along the ground as though she is searching for someone who’s just called her name.
“Siri’s right,” Lerual agrees, soaring close to me as she adds, “We can always return to the Pith and train the new Cadogans in the safety of our nests.”
“NO!” Siri howls, her wings freezing up, her body plunging toward the earth in shock.
“Siri! What’s wrong! SIRI!” My voice barely carries on the hurricane winds whipping around me as I try to cling to my Ddraig’s back. I feel like my knees are iron vices gripping a heavy block of ore that’s too wide. If you don’t get control, Siri, I’m going to fly off your back! Snap out of it!
Siri pumps her ethereal wings, immediately halting our plummet toward the earth. The breath wheezes out of my lungs like I’ve just slammed into stone.
“What happened? Siri?” Lerual cries as she circles over us, her sharp eyes searching for any signs of danger.
“Iris, we don’t have a choice!” Siri wails, her voice shrill as she shifts her tail, angling us back toward camp. “We’re going to the House of Vultures. Cyrus needs you. Right now!” The briefest flash of images drift through my mind, but I cannot make sense of what I see. Cyrus’s face looks years older, hollows etching out space under his eyes. His clothes are bloody and clinging to his thin frame. Stranger still, I see myself lying in a pool of blood at his feet. A strange smile grows wide on my lips, and I think I see my hands twitching to life once more. Yet before I can see anything else, a veil snaps into place between Siri’s mind and my own. Cloud patterns drift across the sky in my thoughts. The abrupt change in our connection is jarring, and with it, I feel a new level of dread. What could make Siri so frightened that she cannot show me?
“Siri, what’s wrong?” I plead, brushing my fingers along her milky white scales in reassurance. “What did I just see?”
