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“And you don’t need blood?” Her frown showed her confusion.
“The dayanyCastor asks you for blood, means you’re probably dying or about to die,” Cord said grimly as he placed the container in his pocket.
“What?” Tegan’s disbelieving laugh filled the room.
“Blood is used for two things, little tiger, to bind and to kill.” Cord’s cold stare was as grim as his next words, “Blood to bind means an Akhryn or supernatural wants you as a slave, or to kill someone for them. Or if not to make you their puppet, they want your blood to curse you and your line.Nevergive your blood willingly to anyone.”
“I think you’re trying to scare me, I am Elite Guard,” Tegan watched him as she reminded him of her impressive standing. “I would know this if this were true, blood can be used to heal, to find, forgood.”
Cord snorted in contempt. “The Castors that need to use blood for those reasons, shouldn’t call themselves Castors,” his hand reached out to cup her face, the intensity in his eyes drawing her in. “Trust me little tiger, never freely give your blood.” Tegan looked up at him, lost in the stormy grey eyes, Cord dropped his hand and moved away. “You’ll bleed too freely when you fight Drakhyn, no need to throw your blood away at every opportunity.”
“You done?” Sloane asked gruffly.
“Yes, brother, I amdone.” Casting one more undecipherable look at Tegan, he nodded curtly to them both and vanished.
“I really hate when he does that,” Sloane grumbled as he rose. “You okay?”
Tegan was staring at her arm, there was no mark, no slight redness from the pressure of the scalpel. “The tightness has gone.”
“What tightness?” Sloane walked over to her and took hold of her arm, turning it over to inspect it.
“When he drew the scalpel over my skin, it felt tight, like it was being stretched,” Tegan pulled her arm away from Sloane before shoving her sleeve down, covering her arm. “Maybe it was his spell,” she shrugged as she rocked back on her heels.
“Spell?” Sloane looked at her in confusion. “He didn’t Cast, Tegan.”
“Of course he did,” Tegan gave a light laugh. “I am convinced everything your brother does is a spell.” She started walking to the door, stopping to look at Sloane who was frowning in confusion.
“Why do you think he Cast?”
“Because his lips were moving?” Her light-hearted smile faded as she watched Sloane run his hand over his head. “What?”
“He didn’t use anything,” Sloane looked at her worriedly.
“He doesn’t need to, I admit I thought it was strange also, but I have seen him multiple times now, he needs no powders or potions.” She shrugged, “I confess it impressed me too,” she added grudgingly.
“That’s not possible,” Sloane argued.
“Why is this news to you? You’re his brother,” Tegan felt a prickle of alarm as she watched Sloane with rising anxiety.
“Tegan,trust me, a Castor cannot Cast without aid, their powders and potions are blessed by the Ancients, the magic doesn’t come from a Castor, it comes from the strength of the blessing.”
“Father always said they needed their components and that they were blessed. I didn’t know about the strength of the Casting,” Tegan admitted. “I haveseenhim Cast. He made the fireballs in the grounds the other week, he portals everywhere that will allow him. He Cast the night we were sparring,” she scowled in recollection.
“How did you know?” Sloane strode forward. “How did you know that he Cast that night?”
“I felt it.”
“Impossible,” Sloane muttered. He quickly held a hand up to stop her protestations. “I’m not doubting that you believe this,” with a quick rub of his jaw, Sloane was striding past her, “what is he up to?”
“Is it a trick?” Tegan asked as she followed him out of the room.
“I have no idea. Cord can be… interesting.” Sloane admitted as they walked down the hall. “We need to talk to Salem and Marcus.”
“Maybe you just didn’t know your brother was as good as he is?” Tegan suggested tentatively.
Sloane’s loud booming laugh startled her. “Trust me, Tegan, I know exactly how good my brother is, my parents never fail to remind me that he is Heir.”
“How is he Heir?” Tegan blurted out.
