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.

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

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.

Could he be right? Could my fighting skills lead to more than just a nasty nighttime habit that leaves me bruised and bloody—might they be my ticket out of this run-down quarter?

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.

“You are more precious to me than you could ever imagine,” he tells me in a quieter tone. And his thumb rubs up and down on my wrist. I resist the responding shiver that prickles over my skin, but I have to curl my fingers into a fist so I won’t touch him.

“Where’s the Nabber?” I demand. “Are they here in the castle?” “Meryn,” he says, trying to herd me back toward the bed, “your health—” I cut him off with ferocious intensity. “Take me there—

I’ve never seen Killian like this before. I had no idea he could be so… brutal.

Anassa’s voice fills my head, thick with wrath. “Some people deserve to die.”

“Stay,” I say plainly. His sapphire eyes snap to mine and he takes a step closer. “You’re sure?” he asks. “Positive,” I say. “I’ve missed you.”

He’s right. One way or another—whether through Killian’s power, my bond with Anassa, or with the strength of my own blood-soaked hands—I’m going to bring my sister home.

Because there’s a terrible truth reverberating in my skull alongside the phantom screams. Even if I survive the Purge, that won’t keep me from following my mother into madness.

I catch Killian’s deep blue gaze, aching to go to him—but he’s already surrounded by a group of young nobles vying for his attention. An uncomfortable spark pings through me. Jealousy, I realize. We’ve never been in a position before where I’ve had to watch him around other women. Turns out, I fucking hate it.

“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 stand in the inn room’s doorway, staring at the single bed while snow swirls outside the window. Inside, Stark has done what he can to make room for us to maneuver, but I understand the innkeeper’s apologies now—this room is tiny.

One bed????

“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.”

“Kill you?” he exclaims, then glances over his shoulder toward the entrance of the dungeons and lowers his voice. “I’ve been doing everything in my power to keep you safe!” My cheeks are on fire. “Wh—” “Who moved you to your own quarters when someone tried to kill you in the night? Me!” He thuds a fist against his chest. “Who has been training you and strengthening you at every turn? Me!” He moved me to my own quarters? I cannot believe Killian took credit for that… although, of course I can. “What about that night, after the Voice Trial?” I ask. “You threatened me. Talked about accidents and—” He groans. “You were drunk. Not long after you’d been attacked. It was an attempt to warn you off getting even drunker.” Oh. I… “You were constantly trying to kill me in training!” I exclaim. “I did not order a single hit I knew you couldn’t take,” he says, stepping closer to the bars.

He reaches through the bars and grabs my wrist, the contact alighting my blood. “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.

Anassa looks over at me, eyes narrowing. “Tell her not to talk to me like I’m a baby. Make sure she knows that direwolves deserve respect.” “You don’t like that, you widdle cutie?” I tease. Anassa reaches out a paw and swipes at me, but I hop away, laughing.

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.