The Hollow Gods (The Chaos Cycle #1)

Chapter 47

Chapter

Forty-Seven

Mirek

Cassia was gone.

The smell of burnt wood and human flesh polluted the air, and Mirek was disgusted by the thought of even breathing. He would have rather suffocated than filled his lungs with even a particle of her remains.

He kept thinking that if he ran far enough, called her name loud enough, she would have eventually appeared.

But he knew that wouldn’t happen. He saw the smoke rising to the sky; he heard her screams, smelled her blood, tasted her fear like ash on his lips. Her cries rattled inside his skull, trapped there until his heart began to break and he wanted nothing more than to stop the pain. Yet there was nothing he could do but bear it until it was over—and after it was, he was all too aware that his burden had only begun.

“It was him…It was him…him…HIM…”

“It was his fault.”

He did this.

“If only she’d chosen to stay with me.” Not him.

If that hunter had killed him.

“She’d be alive.”

Vuk fell to the ground, clutching his side, the bleeding from his wound profuse. The villagers had nearly killed him, but it wasn’t enough.

“Get up,” Mirek hissed.

Vuk did as he was told, knowing he was to blame.

“You did this.”

“The villagers did this.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“You did this!”

Vuk’s face twisted, and Mirek knew something in him had broken. He loathed that his brother even dared to grieve. He didn’t deserve it.

Mirek struck Vuk’s broken ribs. He stumbled, jaw clenched, but Mirek hadn’t finished. He drove his fist into the side of his brother’s face. Once, twice, three times. He saw blood, but it didn’t stop him. Mirek wanted to bring him to an inch of his life and let him crawl back from hell’s gates. Then he wanted to do it again.

Before Mirek could resume pummelling him, Vuk shoved him away with inhuman strength. His eyes were wild; sharp, canine fangs protruded from beneath his lip. Mirek could see the animal fighting to survive, but he knew the man wanted to die.

“Stop it,” Vuk snarled.

Mirek didn’t listen—not to him, and not to his own instincts. Like a madman hurling himself off a cliff, he lost himself to the grief and rage. His vision was blurred by tears, his screams laced with hatred. He blamed his brother, battered him, cut him with his words—all the while, Vuk held the wolf inside himself at bay. Until he couldn’t any longer.

The animal struggled to live more than the man yearned to die. He lunged at Mirek, teeth bared and eyes ablaze.

Mirek’s blood soaked the ground, and he knew he was a dead man. He could see his brother hovering over him, his expression fraught with recognition. Vuk’s hands, painted red with Mirek’s life, hoisted him up. He screamed with violent desperation, but Mirek couldn’t hear any of it. He was slipping away.

The sun was bleeding into dusk—a fitting metaphor for Mirek’s own demise. He mustered all his strength to reach up and cup his brother’s face. The black wolf looked down at him, silenced, and Mirek realized just how much he hated him. It felt like a poisonous snake had hatched in the pit of his stomach. It slithered around, eating away his insides. The venom spread, turning everything rotten.

“Monster.”

It was the last thing Mirek said before the light left his eyes...

“…And I joined my brethren in the darkest night…”