Pack of Wolves by Maggie Claire

Author:Maggie Claire [Claire, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: World Castle Publishing, LLC
Published: 2019-09-17T16:19:46+00:00

Chapter 9

Cyrus jerks awake in the wee hours of darkness, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. “Who’s there?” His teeth chatter as his eyes dart around the room, and while he cannot see anyone yet, he is certain that he is not alone. “I can feel you here. Who are you?”

Falcon’s grey, blood-flecked mask looms in the shadows. Her long whip snakes along the ground, twitching impatiently like a cat’s tail does when the creature wants food. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment,” she admits, her furious voice grating to his ears.

Cyrus pales at the sight, straining against his binds and searching for a means of defense. “You’re dead. I was strung up by your rotten corpse only yesterday.” It’s a dream…it’s that thing. No matter how many times Cyrus repeats this mantra, another voice overpowers him. It doesn’t matter what it is—it can still hurt me!

“Sign over my place in the traitor binds said I would return, didn’t it? Well, here I am!” Falcon cackles, her whip cracking in the air as she steps closer. “Who said I was alive now?” A beam of moonlight gleams through the window on Cyrus’s left. Falcon slinks over to it, standing tall and proud in its ethereal light. “I’ve come to collect a debt from you, old friend.”

“I owe you nothing,” Cyrus shivers, his voice wavering. Suryc! She’s going to kill me! Help!

“Liar!” Falcon roars, her whip biting through Cyrus’s already fragile skin. “You played me for a fool! You used my gifts, abused my love, and in the end, you rejected me. I was good to you, wasn’t I? Say it!”

“You were the best,” Cyrus screams in terror as he beholds her broken body. Falcon lifts her crooked fingers to remove her mask, revealing her tortured face. Her eyes are gone, plucked out by the carrion birds. Her lips are tight and etched with tiny lines that surround her gaping mouth. Blue gums hold her few remaining shaky teeth in place. Falcon’s major organs are visible, dangling from the wound at her belly, swaying as she skulks closer to her former leader’s side.

“Please, no!” Cyrus whimpers, cringing as he watches Falcon’s arm raise high over her head, preparing to swing her whip. Bits of loose skin slip away from gleaming white bone. Her dead joints grind and pop with every movement she makes.

“Not so brave now, are you?” Falcon asks as her whip bites into Cyrus’s face, crisscrossing the scar already running down his cheek. “But then, you were never tough, were you? I handled all your dirty deeds while you sat moon-eyed over a woman who barely tolerated your existence.”

“Falcon, I’m sorry,” Cyrus pleads, his wrists bleeding steadily while he tries in vain to rip his arms free of the straps that tether him to the chair.

Falcon sneers, flicking her whip across Cyrus’s chest. “You use my masked title. Did you even know my true name? Did you ever take a single second out of your day to

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