House of Vultures by Maggie Claire (read my book TXT) 📕

“No, you can’t. But it’scute that you think you can,” Wolf chuckles as he releases his holdon me. I turn to face his gruesome mask, literally made from thecarcass of a gray wolf. I’ve never seen one alive, but the face ofthe creature that Wolf wears has always unnerved me. Such afearsome beast should be left alone, free to run and live itslife.

Traitor,traitor, my blade seems to accuse as itknocks against my thigh. You’ve killedmany creatures in your time.

I try to block out the sentiments,focusing on the man in the wolf’s mask. “So, what did you stealfrom me today? Anything good?”

“I never steal, Mynah. Notfrom your House or any other.” He truly sounds angry, his voicealmost a growl. Then his eyes drift over the skin of the buck, themeager amount of meat that I have salted and covered inside it.“Not much today, it seems.”

I shrug, staring at the horizon. Itwould do no good to show weakness to Wolf. While he and I may be onspeaking terms, that doesn’t make us friends. “I’ll manage somehow.There’s still a couple more traps to check, and I’ll do somehunting if I need to.” That’s not exactly true—I never hunt forextra food. It’s one thing to end the misery of an animal stillcaught in the traps, but I cannot force myself to go out lookingfor a kill.

The feel of Wolf’s hands brushingagainst my arm startles me. “Join me, Mynah. We will change yourmask and your alias. You would do so much better in mypack.”

This is not the first time Wolfsuggested I join his pack. The first time had happened the day thatwe first met. It had been under very similar circumstances astoday’s encounter. I had been foraging for wild vegetables andfruit on another lean meat day, so engrossed in the task that I hadnot heard him sneak up behind me. He quickly grabbed me around thewaist, thinking I was one of the nameless unchosen that stillwander through our forest. Yet before he could kill me I had thrownhim off my back, nearly plunging a knife into his gut in my fear.Rather than fight me further, he’d grinned and asked me to join hispack.

“You would be the perfectbeta, Mynah,” Wolf whispers with a smile. His upper jaw is hiddenby the wolf’s mask, but his bottom teeth are visible and filed intopoints. While I understand the reason behind it, I still shudder atthe sight. “With you as my beta, nothing would stand in ourway.”

“I am fine in my House,thank you.” I try to scuttle past Wolf, but his agile form lithelyintercepts me once more.

“You are starving, Mynah.Barely skin and bones. Surely you see that! I could feed you, keepyou from having to be out here in the woods at all. I’d make sureyou wanted for nothing. I could make your life one of luxury ifyou’d allow it.”

“But at what cost, Wolf?What else would you want to do?” I answer indignantly, alreadyknowing the response to my questions. Wolf runs his house like aliteral wolf pack, complete with alpha hierarchy. If I become hisbeta, or second in command, I will also be his wife in every senseof the word. Bearing litters to Wolf is not on my to dolist.

Wolf grins, his fingers dancing up myarm. “I’m not so bad, Mynah. I’d be faithful to you, loyal. I’dnever raise a hand to you, nor would I allow anyone else to havethe chance to hurt you. You would be in control of the pack,answering only to me. You’d have power, strength, wealth,everything you could ever wish for. Surely life as my beta would beworth sharing a bed with me?”

A guttural cry cuts off any irateresponse from me. Wolf and I bolt in the direction of the sound, mysmall form allowing me to easily keep up with his pace. Runningwith a mask on my face had been a vital and difficult skill tolearn when the rules of our society changed. I have a fair numberof scars from my attempts, but I had adjusted. Still, I do not seeWolf’s arm until he almost clotheslines me in the throat. Hecatches me by my shoulders, keeping me hidden in theshadows.

“Animal in a trap?” I askas my breathing slows.

Wolf shakes his head no. “That soundis human. I’d bet control of my pack on it.”

I feel my face pale at the thought. Ahuman, dying at the sound of it. I pray to whatever god cares thathe isn’t stuck in one of my traps.

And I swear violently when I see thathe is.

The body of the young male writhes onitself as he pants, the teeth of the snare firmly lodged in hisleft calf. He’s been there all night by the looks of him, arms andface bearing scratches and bites from animals that had attempted toget an easy meal during the night. A bloody club lays beside theboy, and I feel my stomach turn. One of his fingers is missing,blood oozing sluggishly from the dirt covered wound.

“He is yourresponsibility, Mynah,” Wolf whispers, and as he speaks the eyes ofthe boy fly over to our hiding place.

That’s when I notice that he isunmasked. His mouth draws up in a snarl, sweat glistening on hisbrow. He has a straight nose and dark hazel eyes that almost seemto shout hateful curses where his voice fails him. Yet I drink inthe sight of an uncovered human face. He is either one of thenameless unchosen or he is from the Déchets, the neighboring landacross the Devil’s Spine. Either option is a deathsentence.

A sentence that is my responsibilityto carry out.

“You know the laws,Mynah,” Wolf urges me, tapping my hip over the sheath of myknife.

The boy realizes what Wolfis intimating and raises his club defiantly. “Come on, then!” Hisbody trembles with fever as he speaks the words.His death would be quick, my traitor mind rationalizes. Oneslice just under the chin and he’ll bleed out before his head hitsthe ground.

Wolf pushes me out of the bushes,clearing his throat as if to urge me to attack. My mind is faraway, remembering every death I have ever had to endure,