“Did he tell you about the shape-shifting creature that Wolf bartered for with the border guards? Or that he was forced to travel in a coffin?” Bittern’s voice is hollow as she recalls her days in Wolf’s caravan. “He won’t talk about what Wolf did with that monstrosity, but I know it changed him, Iris. Wolf broke some part of his spirit that we can’t seem to repair.”
My eyes are wet with tears, my breath lodging in my throat as I whisper, “He’s never said a word to me about it.” Still, I’d seen the damage through Siri and her connection to Suryc. I’d witnessed firsthand tortures Wolf inflicted on his brother, how his Vibría monster had stolen my face and used my mouth to fill Cyrus’s mind with poison. How he’d watched me die over and over again and then witnessed me rising up in my death only to torture him further still. And I’d heard the gut-wrenching whimpers and moans of Cyrus’s terrorized mind splintering. As Siri had shown me everything Suryc allowed her to know, I’d endured it all as if it was happening to me. “I don’t know what to do to help him cope,” I admit in a soft voice, wiping stray tears off my cheeks as they fall.
Why would he come to you for help at all, Iris? Why would he share anything so personal with you? What have you done to deserve his confidence? Siri challenges before slamming a wall between us through our mental bonds. My mind clouds with images of the sky while Siri broods and probably plots against me. I hate that she can shut me out so easily. Is she shutting me out because of our quarrels? Or is something else going on, some strange plan that I’m not allowed to see because she doesn’t have faith in me?
I saved him, didn’t I? Isn’t that proof that I’m trustworthy? I long to scream, yet deep down, I know that is a weak response. The fact that I was the one who sent him back to his brother still plagues me with guilt.
“I should have done something to stop it,” Fox confesses, staring into the flames as though they hold some unseen cure to ease his conscience.
“We should have tried to stand up to Wolf more,” Grouse whispers, Bittern and Goldeneye bobbing their heads in silent agreement. “Though it might have cost our lives, we should have fought that bastard anyway. Or at the very least, we should have taken Cyrus and run away.”
“We all were at fault for Cyrus’s sufferings.” My voice breaks as the weight of my sorrow drops heavily on my shoulders. “I failed him more than any of you.”
“Fox, you did what was right in the end, standing against Wolf for the damned souls left to his mercy. The fact that you joined our ranks, prepared to die with us, says a lot about your character,” Goldeneye exclaims, patting Fox’s shoulder in comfort. “And Iris, I don’t think Cyrus holds anyone but his brother responsible for the things he’s suffered. He’s struggling now, but he will remember the real culprit in time.”
While I don’t believe that’s true—at least not in reference to me—I take some measure of false comfort from the hopeful condolence. We sit in silence for a few heartbeats, staring into the fire or up to the night sky, searching for truths or secrets that might solve our problems. “What are we going to do?” Grouse wonders forlornly, Goldeneye easing his hand into hers. She turns a small, sweet smile in his direction, and I watch Goldeneye’s face light up in response.
Those two have been thick as thieves for as long as I can remember. I don’t know why I never saw them as a couple before now. Watching them, it’s as obvious as a rainbow against a storm cloud, and I find myself grateful that they are not Cadogans. It would’ve broken their hearts to have to split up because their Ddraigs had coupled with other mates.
Enomena leans over, sensing my deepening brood, and declares, “You envy their happiness, don’t you?”
“No. I envy their freedom,” I reply before I unwind my long legs and rise from the fireside. “Grouse, right now we’re going to sleep,” I announce, pushing all thoughts of Ddraigs and their idiotic coupling rules from my thoughts. “Tomorrow, Cyrus and I are going to teach the newcomers what little we know about being Cadogans. We are going to keep practicing and connecting with our Ddraigs. When it is time, we will meet our enemies on the battlefield, and we will fight for our rights to live free without the rule of Déchets or Wolf or anyone else.” Before any of them can respond, I scuff my shoe in the sand, dousing the fire to make my point.
Grouse and Goldeneye move off together, disappearing with the fire’s smoky fingers. Bittern leans against her Ddraig, Nepsa, and prepares to bed down right where she sits. Enomena brushes my arm in silent consolation before sauntering over to Anemone and taking to the skies for a quick evening patrol.
“Anything to add, Drake?” I grit my teeth, desperately trying to fight against the rage that simmers in my heart every time I confront this man and his scarlet Ddraig. Whatever our problems, they stem from a place far deeper than our unorthodox meetings. It is a clash of personalities, an instinctual battle of wills and alpha controlling natures. No matter how hard I try to conceal my dislike, I cannot find the will to be cordial or understanding.
“I’m not your enemy,” Drake reminds me in a flat voice. I suspect he doesn’t even believe these words himself anymore. And judging by the way Ekard snorts and glares at me, I know not to trust him when he pretends to nod his hulking head in agreement.
“Just…for the sake of all the other Ddraigs
