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.

“You cunt!” The man’s words slur as he staggers forward. “You fixed the bets, you stupid little bitch. I know you did!” I laugh. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

Siphons, our ancient, monstrous enemy from the neighboring country of Astreona. They steal our kids out of their beds and take them back across the border, turning them into living blood bags, feeding off them, sucking out their powerful child life force, and eventually draining and killing them.

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.

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.

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.”

Anassa, running in the moonlight, racing down the mountainside, faster than wind. A sun rising, rays blinding and beautiful. A crown, its metal glinting, then drenched in blood.

“And yet, you are. It could be worse. We’re both in the Strategos pack,” Izabel says proudly, beaming at me. That’s the same word I heard the woman at the gate use. “The leaders.” I raise a brow. “Leaders?”

Venna joined Kryptos.” She points at the smattering of Rawbonds in the eastern corner of the courtyard. The ones with the deep bluish streaks in their hair. “They’re the spies,” Izabel explains. “Venna’s always been hard to pin down…”

“Then over there,” Izabel resumes, pointing to the western corner, where a group of particularly brutish-looking people have gathered. “Daemos. The warriors.” The warriors with the bloody red streaks.

“Last, there’s the Phylax, or the guardians,” Izabel goes on, gesturing to the calmer-looking group where Henrey stands with his hands resting passively on his hips. So leaders, spies, warriors, and guardians. “Roles in combat?” “Sort of. But it also has to do with pack dynamics, culture, and even the wolves’ demeanors,” she says. “Each of us has our purpose, and we work together. In theory.”

Crown Prince Killian descends to the balcony while I stand there frozen, my whole world crumbling around me. And then, seated at his father’s side, he lifts his head and looks right at me, dark blue eyes filled with regret. My heart cracks. Lee.

“The bond you feel,” he replies, tapping his temple. “Your energy. Your souls. Your spirits. Wolves choose their Bonded based on compatibility of that unnamable, many-named part of us that defies all true classification. They know, instinctively, who we are. Every part of us. And that initial recognition, like calling to like, deepens over time, like a river carving a winding path through the hardest of stone. Shared experiences, emotions. Trust. You will only become closer to your direwolf.”

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Meryn!” Mother gushes softly, stepping closer. “That fur… and those eyes!” She lifts a hand as though to touch the wolf and then thinks better of it, shaking her head in quiet awe. “She is special, isn’t she? A queen among wolves.” Anassa just blinks her yellow eyes at my mother in silent agreement. “That’s all it takes to win you over, huh?” I drawl through the bond. “Flattery? You don’t even bow for the king.” Anassa’s mind ripples with irritation. “I give respect where respect is due.”

Sassy

Siegrid raises her face and pulls her broad shoulders back. “The Strategos direwolves have convened and chosen their next leader. Anassa. You are the new Strategos Alpha.”

And in case my implication is not crystal fucking clear: You touch her again and I’ll cull you myself.”

“I’m the rightful queen of Nocturna, aren’t I?” I ask. Stark’s eyes spark, he takes a single step back, and he bows down on one knee, hand to his chest. “Welcome home, my queen.”

What the fuckkkkk

“Do you know how hard it was to see you with him?” he rasps. “To know who you were, even when you didn’t, sickening magic silencing me? To endure our wolves’ mate bond on top of it all?”

A man that yearns

“Do you have any idea what it felt like to watch you at the Forging Ball in the dress I picked for you”—What?!—“swirling in your lover’s arms and bowing to his traitor father?” His voice. I think I can feel the vibrations of his growl dancing over the sensitive skin of my throat. Stark’s never looked so… open before. That dress. That dress that was so damn perfect for me. That made my heart sing. Fuck, I thanked Killian for it. Stark picked my dress. I can’t shake that. Stark picked my dress.

“Give me the word and I’ll tear out his throat. All the lives I’ve ever taken were just training for this moment, my queen. Make me your instrument of vengeance. Let my hands act out your every savage, depraved thought. Use me. I’m yours.” Mine. My psycho asshole. My bloodthirsty killer.

I am Meryn Sturmfrost, Queen of Nocturna, and I will use the twisting dark in my bones and my blood to hunt Killian Valtiere to the ends of the earth.