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Drakhyn were agents of the Darkness, intent on growing their numbers, but unless the Drakhyn massed together and became unified, threats of actual regimented Drakhyn were no more substantial than the morning mist. The sun burned off mist as soon as it rose high enough in the sky.
Light eradicating dark.
The light took the darkness in the morning, but at night the darkness stole the light from the sky and kept it at bay until morning. Season after season, the pattern was the same. Darkness gave way to light, light gave way to darkness.
Leonid considered his new companion, the tingle on his skin telling him that he was not alone. There was nothing substantial in the room with him; he knew he would not be able to touch it. But could he talk to it?
“I know you are there.” Leonid’s voice was soft. Pleasant even. “I know you are watching. How long have you been watching, I wonder? When I was put in here? Or before?” Leonid stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I do not expect you to talk—yet. You may not know that I know you are here. Now you do.”
Nothing in the room changed. The prickle on his skin remained without intensifying and, being a patient man, Leonid was content to wait. His need for sleep died the day his body did; however, he enjoyed lying still and resting. Resting did not mean sleep.
Leonid lay down on the now familiar stone floor and closed his eyes. When he had been training, he had been taught the power of meditation. It soothed his soul, and he found solace in doing it.
Even though his body went into a meditative state, he was still aware. He felt the tingle intensify on his skin, and then he felt the presence leave.Interesting, he thought as he lay there. It heard him—of that, he had no doubt. Whether it returned and how long it would take to return, he was unsure.
His mind drifted to his journey one more time. He had to have made a mistake. Ignored a presence, ignored the warning. Carefully, so carefully, he went over every detail again. Who had known he was coming? No one. He had told no one at Court. His daughter, Salem, Marcus, the two children, Martha. Tove would know because she was heading to Headquarters when he left. He had not told them it was a secret. Would they have told others? Of the group he had told, none of them were giving him the feeling of betrayal.
Was it considered a certainty that he would attend?
Was he so shielded from the Vampyre Court that he forgot his wife was the ruler? Had Kateryna proclaimed to others that he was heading to them? Or more likely, she had told them she had sent for him.
Why?Why had he been sent for? His wife had been ruling the Vampyre Court for almost three hundred years. To need him now…it was unlikely. They kept in touch; he communicated with her frequently through fire message. In the eighteen years he had been with Tegan, he had seen his wife once. She had come to theNew Worldas she called it still, for a Great Council meeting. Before that, again she had travelled for the Great Council for the horror of the Mark of Velvore being discovered on the skin of a Drakhyn. The ripples of shock had travelled far that day.
Twice in forty years, he had physically seen his wife. Her love for him had not dimmed, nor his for her. Vampyres were romantics. The movies and books in this modern age glorified them, told ridiculous tales of them, but they captured their capacity to love correctly.
Kateryna would have told her Court her husband was coming. The mistake was nothisto make. His wife had done it, hopefully unknowingly. Which is why they had waited for him in Siberia and not travelled to intercept him earlier. They needed him near where they were taking him.
Leonid sat up. He looked around the room. There was no door. He had assumed he had been portalled in...but what if he wasn’t? He stood swiftly. He had been over every inch of the floor and the walls. He had not traced the ceiling.
Had he been lowered in?
Cursing himself for a fool, Leonid stalked over to the corner and stretched upwards as long deft fingers began to search for a way out.
“Tove, stand down!” Salem ordered.
“You are not my alpha, Principal,” Tove growled low in her throat. “This Castor will answer to me, or he will die.”
“Tove.” Tegan took a step forward. “This is not the answer.”
“No, it is not,” Tove agreed. “He can slip through my fingers easily.” She nodded once, and Tegan gasped as a blade was put to her throat by another Lycan. “But he will stay foryou.”
“You make a foolish mistake,” Cord warned the Lycan whose knife was against Tegan’s throat.
“I do not think I do.” Tove smiled grimly, ignoring Tegan’s look of betrayal. “I know I cannot hold you, Castor, but Icanhold her. You will answer me.”
“I know you not, Lycan,” Salem said to the Lycan behind Tegan, “but you will remove your weapon from Elite Sentinel Tegan’s throat. I will hold you until the Great Council can judge you—do not think I will not—unless you let her go.Now.”
The Lycan stared only at Tove, and she shook her head. “This will take but a moment.” Her blade pushed into the throat of Cord, and a small trickle of blood ran down his neck, but his eyes remained on Tegan. “The quicker you tell the truth, the quicker she is free.”
“She will not hurt me, Cord.” Tegan’s voice was clear in the stunned silence. “Tove is like a sister to me; she would never harm me.” Tegan looked back at Cord, his grey eyes stormy with anger. With a small smile for the Castor, ignoring the knife and their surroundings, “Go,” she told him softly. The look he sent her reverberated through her body. His eyes held a promise she was not sure of, and with a hard glare for the Lycan behind her, he was gone.
“That dirty son of a Drakhyn,” Tove screamed in fury.
“You will put the blade down, or I will slit your throat myself.” Sloane’s voice matched the cold fury of his brother’s as his arm caught round the Lycan’s throat, his own blade placed hard against the skin. “Move a centimetre, Lycan, and I will end you.”
The Lycan dropped the blade, and Sloane stepped back, releasing him. Tegan spun quickly in the snow and punched the Lycan squarely in the jaw. The Lycan stumbled and Tegan moved to follow him, but Sloane caught her arm.
“He will be dealt with,” he murmured as Sentinels surrounded the Lycan.
