Dire Bound (The Wolves of Ruin, #1)

by Sable Sorensen

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my twenty-three years alive, it’s this: Women in pain give men confidence.

He doesn’t want to see it, because I’ve made him confident. Certain that he will be the man to bring down Meryn Cooper, the infamous Alley Cat of the Eastern Quarter. Idiot.

It always surprises me a little, the sheer number of people who bet for the other man. Even with the history to show them they shouldn’t.

I lean against Lee’s hard body and look up into his face—the sharp lines of his jaw covered in a light scruff, his dazzling sea-blue eyes.

He's probably the dain of this book. Right?

“What was the plan here, then? You were going to, what… confront the person who just won a brutal, well-attended fight with this pathetic little dinner knife? Shake me down with this extremely dangerous weapon you’re so skilled at wielding?”

And then Lee jumped in front of it, his hands held up in a calming motion, and the horse just… stopped.

Sus

Who needs a coat, anyway, when panic is setting your blood on fire?

Siphons, our ancient, monstrous enemy from the neighboring country of Astreona.

I used to go into the alleys and goad older boys twice my size into an altercation just so I could have someone to hit. Just so I could feel something other than the unending, cavernous pain inside my chest.

followed. He helped me hone my anger from something feral into something vicious, polished. Dangerous.

The Bonded are the king’s most elite forces, soldiers who have mental bonds with massive, fearsome direwolves. They ride the wolves into battle and, rumor has it, the riders can even tap into the magic that the direwolves wield.

But everyone knows that the direwolves almost exclusively choose people who come from Bonded families. Privilege begets more privilege, a never-ending cycle.

My eyes barely register the fourth direwolf and his rider—I’m too busy gawking at what they’re dragging behind them. Or… who.

The direwolf’s rider matches him in ferocity. He’s in his late twenties, I’d wager, with light brown skin and dark, messy hair that has a bloodred streak in it. Like every Bonded I’ve ever seen, he’s undeniably beautiful, with deep brown eyes and scruff framing his chiseled jawline.

My pulse speeds up as I clock the tattoos completely covering his neck, his hands. Not much makes me afraid, but this? Run, a self-preserving, animalistic part of me cries. Danger.

My gaze slides up to his face, and my stomach flips as I make eye contact with him. The Bonded man practically glowers at me from a distance.

cards are stacked against the rest of us. Eventually, the sight turns my stomach and I look away, only to make eye contact with the brutal, maniacal Bonded again. He’s looking at me, assessing. I wonder if he gets off on making people cower in fear and pain. If this is fun for him.

The Siphons might be our enemy, but I’m certain this man is the true face of evil.

And the enemies to lovers begins

“Nocturn is trapped,” she hisses, and the venom in her voice makes my skin prickle. “He’s trapped, and when he escapes, he’s going to tear the world apart.” Mother lunges at Lee, yanking on his tunic. He’s seen her delusional before but never aimed at him. A violent shadow passes over her face. Everything was perfect, so of course it couldn’t last. These moments shouldn’t surprise me anymore, but still—I’d let myself hope. Heat burns behind my eyes. “Mother,” I say, trying to draw her attention back to me, to calm her down. Goddess, what must Lee be thinking? It only sets her off more. “And you,” she says, turning on me, wild-eyed. “You are not where you are meant to be.”

And then there’s the other thing I’ve been hiding from him, the part that tortures me in my dreams. How my grandmother had this madness, too, and her mother before that. How the madness runs in my blood, lurking in the shadows, waiting to drag me down into its depths.

There’s nobody in it. Saela is gone.

Saela… she’s my sister, but I practically raised her. She’s mine. My responsibility.

The woman behind me catches my eye at this, looking frightened. I just shrug and move along.

Alessandra isn’t strong like me, but she’s smart, I’m realizing. As good an ally as any.

And she is probably going to die early

“You cunts better hope you fucking die during the Ascent. Because if you make it out, I’ll be waiting, and my wolf will tear you to pieces.” Big words from someone who was just in the dirt.

With a jolt, I realize that Stark Therion is staring me down, his gaze nothing short of malevolent. His feral black direwolf bares its teeth, and while I can’t hear it from this distance, I can tell it’s growling at me.

*Insert the low quality macbook picture where Emmy Rossum bites her finger*

I wouldn’t have made it even this far without Venna’s tips as she climbs, shouted up from below.

Pls dont die

It’s surprisingly nice to laugh. Weird, too, to be laughing with women my own age. I stopped spending much time with other girls when I dropped out of school at twelve. In the years since, all the friends I once had have grown into soldiers or mothers.

My mouth twists as a coal-black wolf approaches him almost immediately. The wolf looks vicious, nasty. A perfect pair.

A crown, its metal glinting, then drenched in blood.

She’s been ripped open. Claws, I think. Shredded right through her coat. Through the sweater beneath it. My sweater, I realize. Alessandra.

But then a growl rumbles from behind me. I tense and whirl around, eyes wide. She’s there. She’s just right there. The fucking bitch

“There’s a betting pool among the instructors on which pack will lose the fewest recruits. I really don’t want to lose to that fucking asshole Stark, so stay alive. Please.”

Fuck you stark

Then I see it—a final pair of night-glow orbs bobbing in the darkness of the doorway. She appears like a great silver-white ghost, even larger than the rest, trailing into the light with her head lowered in silent aggression. Her upper lip twitches over her teeth, on the edge of a snarl. The light from the lamps above glints gold on her pale fur. The air grows still. The cheers have died down. The entire arena watches with bated breath as Anassa slowly stalks toward me.

The aura

I’m met with the familiar iron wall of rejection. Her glowing yellow eyes meet mine. There’s blatant contempt in them. Yeah, well, fuck you, too, I think, furious.

As she nears, the other Rawbond pairs fan out even farther to make room for her, their anxiety rippling in the air. Even the other wolves seem to fear her.

I don’t have time to think about it. Suddenly, the king is at my elbow. He pauses as he looks me over. Then he hooks his finger around a lock of my hair and lifts it briefly. “Hmm. Unusual.” I stare at his chest, but I can see his eyes narrow, his lips part to speak— “My king,” Stark interrupts,

His wolf lunges forward. At the same moment, I dive for Anassa’s throat— And miss. I hit the hard-packed earth on my hands and knees, dazed, and turn to see Anassa slamming Jonah’s wolf to the ground. With a yelp, Jonah flies off, skidding across the dirt. The fuck? Before I know it, Anassa is up again, lunging at another wolf. Her snarl is deafening. Confused, I scramble to my feet. Is Anassa protecting me?

He’s not smiling, and there’s a malicious glitter in his dark eyes. A silent message, as clear as the one I read in Anassa’s when she protected me moments ago. He wants me dead.

Baby you are reading it all wrong

I’ve never killed a man before. I never dreamed myself capable of this type of violence; I thought I’d skate through these Trials by avoiding being killed, not by becoming a killer. But something has unlocked inside me, a monster I didn’t know existed. I’m not sure if it’s been formed out of the seething, quiet wrath that’s been building in me all day, or if this is some side effect of bonding with a ravening beast.

“It was me. Self-defense,”

“You think you’re above the rules, princess?” he growls out.

And his tongue streaks over my skin.

“Since there was an attack on you last night, it has been determined that you are possibly being targeted. So you will now have a private room,”

Hmm who requested it

“Why are you asking?” Izabel cuts in. “Are you worried there’s someone here you haven’t banged yet?”

“I’m sure that you’re used to these other Bonded bowing to you and tearing themselves apart for your approval, but as you’re so clearly aware, I am not one of them. Try kicking me again, and I’ll cut your foot off at the ankle and feed it to my wolf.”

Anassa’s dark amusement flares in the following silence. She’s satisfied, like my fury has filled her belly.

I pull my head back and spit in his face.

Anassa doesn’t stop. She hurtles on to the next obstacle, and I can sense her intention. She wants to win, to prove herself the strongest of the pack, to crush anyone who would challenge her.

We just… did that? “Third!” someone shouts coldly. Third? As in, third-fastest time?