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

and Cadogans, let’s try to get along,” I demand, clenching my jaw when I realize I can barely follow my own advice. “You and Ekard continue to keep the nomads in line, and I’ll work with the rest. If we can at least appear to be united, we can keep the peace. Then, when the great battle that is coming has passed, we can figure out how to survive in whatever world is left over.”

Drake’s eyes glitter in the darkness, eerily like his Ddraig’s as he hisses, “Just you worry about following your own plans, Iris. As long as you don’t make a move against me, you will have my loyalty. But the minute you double-cross me, I’ll let Ekard challenge Siri. And who do you really think will win that war?” He backs away from my place by the fireside, Ekard’s teeth gleaming as his Cadogan’s threat dissipates into the air.

I sulk to the edge of the cavern, watching the skies as the evening chill overtakes the deserted lands. It is so very easy to fall into a proverbial pit of despair, ruminating on all the failures and bad judgments I have made in my half-hearted attempts to be a leader. Every poor choice I’ve made parades through my mind, accusing me, judging me, and illuminating all of my weaknesses. My arms prickle with goosebumps, and instantly, I regret my hasty choice to put out the fire. “Acting without thinking,” I reproach myself, chafing my arms with my hands to warm them up. “That is probably my greatest flaw.”

“I rather think your biggest problem is that you trust too easily,” Cyrus whispers, stalking out of the shadows beside me. He removes his dark over-shirt, dropping it lightly onto my shoulders as he eases down to sit almost close enough that our arms touch. The wildfire of memories in his eyes has dulled. Rational thought replaces the fear and rage that surged through his blood earlier. “And when you trust someone, you give them your complete loyalty. Even long after they have failed to deserve such a gift.”

I sigh as warmth envelops me, sliding my arms into the sleeves. “I never said I had just one problem area,” I retort, hating the fact that my words are true.

“That could be said for us all,” Cyrus muses, staring off into the stars overhead.

“Not for you,” I rasp, the humility in my admission making my heart feel small in my chest. With nothing left to say, I curl further into his shirt, inadvertently inhaling the scent off his clothes. He smells like the forest after a rainstorm, the way the air is filled with spicy aromas from the trees. There is a sense of peace for me in this smell. The forest has always been my safe haven, my refuge from the chaos, brutality, and danger that came with living in a major house. Is that what Cyrus is becoming for me now? A place of shelter, a kindred spirit to safeguard my secrets? The very idea makes my body quiver.

“I’m sorry I got so upset,” Cyrus whispers, and I can hear the tremor in his tone like he’s barely holding onto a tiny tether that keeps his sanity anchored to his body. Those ghosts that haunt his mind will not be laid to rest easily. And that knowledge breaks a piece of my heart that I hadn’t even realized belonged to Cyrus.

“I…I’m sorry for everything you endured at the hands of your brother. I never meant for any of it to happen.” I hear his breathing hitch at my admission of guilt and remorse.

Cyrus nods his head, the tension easing from his shoulders a little as he quips, “And you’re wrong, you know. I have three major flaws.” He coerces a lighter tone into his words; I think it is an attempt at friendly banter. It is a small victory, a chink in the icy wall that has been a permanent fixture between us since we left the House of Piranhas.

And the soft smile that springs to life on my lips is not at all forced. “Oh yeah? What are they?” I inquire, genuinely curious to hear him explain his own personality.

“I don’t assert myself like I should. If I had, Warbler would be alive, Creeper would never have been in the House, Falcon would never have had as much control as she did, and you would never have hated me.” Cyrus doesn’t bat an eye as he continues, never once stumbling over his words. “Second, I hate my brother to the point that I want to kill him slowly. I want him to endure every horrible thing he did to me seven times over.” He takes a quivering breath before he whispers, “And lastly…you.”

“Me?” I startle, jerking my chin so I can watch Cyrus’s face for more clarification into his meaning.

“Yes, you. You are my biggest flaw. Everything I think and do ties back to you. ‘Will Iris like this? Will Iris agree or disagree with this thought?’ I ask myself at least a hundred times a day what you would say or do in my place. You’ll be the death of me.” Cyrus coughs, a hand grasping his chest where the tubes had been. Despite our mental connection and Suryc’s powers to speed healing, these wounds are still tender. It’s like they are actively avoiding the Ddraig’s magic, clinging to Cyrus’s skin as a physical reminder of his brother’s sins.

“Why haven’t you talked to me about everything Wolf did to you?” I question, my heart heavy because I know that turning the conversation to this topic will kill these fleeting moments of peace between us. “Why did I have to hear it from our Ddraigs, from Bittern and Grouse and—”

Cyrus’s body stiffens beside me, his breath releasing in a hiss. “They told you about—”

“The girls mentioned the shapeshifter and travelling in a coffin,” I finish, a lump growing in my throat. “Siri showed me bits of Suryc’s memories, so