Brood of Vipers, Maggie Claire [e novels to read .TXT] 📗

One wears a gray hood, and the other has his or her back to me. To the left, I notice an ornate throne shaped to resemble a giant snake. The armrests are twin viper heads as well, and jewels inset at the eyes glitter as if they are truly alive. Long, slender fingers brush these metal snakes lovingly, and my eyes draw upward until I am face to face with the king of Déchets.

He is not what I had expected, I admit. The king is thin and muscled, as though he spends most of his time on a battlefield. There’s a dark, dead expression in his eyes, and as he watches the couple before him, he smiles. It is the expression of a man who just discovered he’s cheated death. The sight of his wicked grin is enough to send fear shooting through my nerves like lightning intent on frying my brain.

“No!” I shout, my hands reaching toward the familiar face on the right side of the dais. I realize that I had still been hoping Wolf could be convinced not to ally himself with Déchets. Now, I cannot help but wonder if we are clinging to a hopeless cause.

“They are yours to punish, as we agreed.” The king of Déchets raises a weathered hand to Cane, deferring to his wishes.

“Many thanks, Your Highness.” Cane bows before slinking over to the hooded form, triumph written on his face. He swaggers around the pair on the floor, showing off his maskless visage and clean-cut attire fresh from the Déchets’ seamstresses.

It is unnerving to look upon Cane’s wildly excited expression. His face is too symmetrical; it’s not the face I’m growing to love, I exclaim with a shock. I find myself searching for Cyrus’s scars or that slight upturn to one corner of his mouth that always gives him a sardonic smile. Cyrus’s flaws make him beautiful, I declare, knowing I don’t just mean his physical appearance. I’ll take a flawed, real man over the perfect disguise of a coward any day.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” Cane mocks, kicking the legs of one of the people on the floor. “Aren’t you at least going to beg me to spare your pathetic life?”

The pair huddle close together, leaning heavily on each other for strength. “I am sorry that it came to this, love,” the hooded one whispers, and my heart grows cold as I recognize this voice as my own.

“I’d rather die with you now than live a thousand lives alone. I’m only sorry we had so little time together,” Cyrus replies wearily, pressing closer to kiss my cheek.

“Get away from her!” Cane screams, drawing a sword as he approaches us. Yet, in this moment, the impending threat does not give rise to terror in our hearts. We stare into each other’s eyes, our faces mirrors of one another. Sad smiles, unshed tears, longing and unspoken love all play out on our expressions. Cyrus drops his chin until our foreheads touch, his beautiful, haunted eyes closing as he waits for his brother to take his vengeance. Cane wastes no time, his sword slicing deep into Cyrus’s side.

“No! Cyrus!” I bellow, waving my real hands as though I can somehow change the vision playing out in my mind’s eye. “Don’t hurt him, Cane! Please!”

I am helpless against the vision, forced to watch it unfold. Cyrus wheezes and drops hard, his breath already unsteady. Blood pools at my feet, and I watch as the spectral me rips the hood off her head and presses the fabric hard into his gaping wound. Use your strength to heal him! I silently order, wishing I could turn away and not witness Cyrus’s last moments. “I can’t save you, Cyrus! Why can I not—?”

“This place repels such magic,” Cane explains giddily, grabbing my arm as he rips me away from Cyrus’s side. “Now, you will join me at your rightful place, and we will watch my brother die. Then you will bring the Carreglas over to this land as a gift to the king of Déchets. Nothing will stand against us now, Iris! I am the king of Cassè just as you foresaw, second only Alaric, the ruler of this land. You will be my consort, and my brother will cheat death no longer.”

I drop to my knees when Cane passes his sword over Cyrus’s neck. Blood spurts across my chest, quickly draining from his gurgling body. My mouth hangs open in a scream, my fingers inching for Cyrus’s boot. Suddenly pulling an unseen knife hidden at Cyrus’s ankle, I launch myself at Cane. His face turns white as I gut him before he can take another breath, slitting his chest from navel to throat. By the time he hits the ground, his eyes have faded to sightless gray.

“Oh, my love,” I mumble, weeping over Cyrus as his gurgled breaths slow. “Do not leave me in this place! Please! I need you, Cyrus.”

“Well, well. That boy you just murdered wasn’t lying to me after all. He swore you would be useful to me, and here you’ve proved him to be right.” Alaric smoothly glides down from his throne, his cold fingers gripping my chin tightly, craning my head until my defiant gaze meets his. “Hmm…too bad you have to die. I’d have loved to break you myself. But time is of the essence, and I cannot let someone as strong as you survive to challenge me again. What a pity,” Alaric sighs, dropping his hold on me and sauntering back to his throne with a flourish of his hand. My body slumps as a rain of arrows spear my back. As I fall, I hear Alaric announcing, “Send the border guards through Cassé with a proclamation that their lands are now under my rule. Find the Carreglas and have it brought to me. Capture any Ddraig that you find and kill their warriors. I have big plans for them.” Flicking his icy cold gaze at me one final