Brood of Vipers by Maggie Claire (good books for high schoolers .txt) 📕

the fact that I sound like I’m whining and making excuses. “This might be the best course of action, and it would be foolish not to consider it.”

Cyrus stares at me as if I’m growing a third eye in the middle of my forehead. His voice is full of hostility, growing louder with each word until he’s shouting. “And you don’t see that there might be a trap in this? Are you really that blind?”

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” I snap, my hackles rising as my temper flares in response to his attitude. “You’re so angry you aren’t willing to listen to me, to even think—”

“What? That one of the monsters that tortured me might have had a change of heart and wants to help us?” Cyrus’s hands shake at his sides, his breathing growing shallow as he exclaims, “You can’t seriously be that naïve. You saw what they did to me.”

“But you aren’t seeing the visions I’m having,” I cry, my voice growing shrill. “No matter what course of action we plan, nothing about our future has changed! In each vision, we are caught, our Ddraigs are dead, and you die right in front of me. Gods only know what happens to the rest of the Cadogans who follow us.” Shivering against the fear in my heart rather than a chill, I whimper, “I’m willing to entertain any idea that might change our fate, Cyrus.” My lip quivers as tears threaten to fall. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Cyrus hesitates to speak, even to breathe. After a few moments, he blinks rapidly as though waking up from a dream. “You—you really mean that.”

“Of course I do,” I reply, slumping to sit on an obliging stone. The weight of arguing with Cyrus wears me out, pushing me to a point of emotional and mental exhaustion I can hardly bear. “Despite our past issues and all the heated words we’ve spat at each other over the years, I’ve never wanted you to die.” I’m not a monster, I grumble to myself, a dull ache burning in my heart at the implication that I could be so cruel, so unfeeling as to want Cyrus’s death.

Silence thickens the air around us until I fear it will stifle the breath right out of my lungs. Pressure builds in my ears until it is physically painful to remain in this void of noise any longer. A soft sigh of relief wheezes out of me when Cyrus finally speaks again.

“Tell me this.” Cyrus creeps closer, dropping onto his knees before me so he can see my face clearly. “Were you planning to go to Déchets alone? Did you have any sort of plan in place?”

“I—I hadn’t gotten that far,” I admit, pulling my legs up onto the rock, shrinking into as tight a ball as I can, as if I can somehow hide myself from Cyrus’s scrutiny. “I wasn’t even sure if I’d go at all. I was waiting to see if a better idea came to us before I decided to go to the Vibría.”

“Did any of your thoughts include me?” Cyrus plants his hands on either side of the rock where I’m sitting, leaning close. “Did you ever once stop to think that I wouldn’t let you go off alone into that dangerous land? Because I wouldn’t allow it, Iris. Do you understand? If you even try to leave me behind, I will follow you to Déchets. There’s nothing you can say or do to stop me,” Cyrus interjects before I can protest, his eyes soft and full of sadness as he murmurs, “Did you ever even think about asking me outright to come with you?” Cyrus raises one hand to brush the hair away from my face, the touch surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of his expression. “You are an exasperating woman.”

“I didn’t want to put that burden on your shoulders,” I admit, feeling small. “You’re already dealing with so much, and I—”

“I would have said yes,” Cyrus interrupts, his tone revealing his weary resignation. “I think I would follow you anywhere if you’d only ask.”

“I can’t keep living in limbo like this, wondering when the Windwalkers will come for us, anticipating Wolf’s inevitable attack, and knowing that he will find us unprepared. I can’t bear another vision where the ones I lo—” I stumble over the word, a powerful quiver rattling my body with such force that I cannot still the motion. Was I really about to say that I love Cyrus? I question myself, chewing on my lip while I hesitate, struggling to sort out the storm of emotions raging inside me. “I’d rather take the risk—”

“And I’d rather you let me perish than put yourself in danger going off alone on a half-planned whim,” Cyrus interrupts, standing suddenly and pulling me up into a tight embrace. “But let’s not fight about that now. It feels too damn good to hear you almost admit honestly that you care about me, and I don’t want to ruin the moment.”

His warmth seeps into my skin like a balm soothing my open wounds. The sensation quiets the voices of fear in my heart, and I feel my eyes drift closed. This is perilous. Allowing myself to get close to Cyrus is a mistake, I know. Yet his touch is the only thing that’s managed to still the trembling in my bones. Still, this growing affection only affirms that we are drawing nearer to the future I’ve seen in my visions. And as much as I feel like I need him to hold me now, I should ensure he stays alive in the future by pushing him away. “Cyrus, we can’t do this. The closer we get to each other, the more danger we—”

Cyrus stops my words with a kiss, his hands cupping my face, holding me in place until I stop trying to put distance between us. When he breaks away, his breath is ragged as he whispers, “I know