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The Elites were readying their packs. Most travelled light. Afterall, they were Lycan, and they would change to their wolf form soon. Tegan was strapping her pack to her back firmly. It had water and a few protein bars in it. She could lose it easily to keep up with the Lycans. She was glaring at the Castor, who was ignoring her as he watched the Sentinels prepare.
“I cannot believe you wanted to keep me behind,” Tegan snapped at Cord in a low whisper.
“You will not keep up with them; they are Lycan,” Cord hissed back. “And who is going to protect you when you fall behind?”
“I do not need protection because I willnotfall behind.” Tegan gave him a furious look as he questioned her abilities.
“You are a mere Akrhyn, these are Lycan.” Cord pulled her closer to him as he bent to speak in her ear. “You are probably good, Tegan, and worthy of your praise you have received from the Great Council, but you are not Lycan nor Vampyre. You arejustlike the rest of us.”
“Like you?” Tegan wrenched her arm from him. “With your potions and spells and Ma—”
Cord pressed his lips to hers to silence her. After a moment of surprise, Tegan pushed him away angrily. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she glared at him, and Cord fought back his grin. “Didn’t we agree?” he asked her softly.
“You’re so incredibly infuriating! You cannot grab me and”—Tegan looked around quickly—“andkissme whenever you feel like it! I do not have time for this.” Tegan fixed her weapons and looked over to Tove, who was watching quietly. “I am ready,” she told her. Tove nodded and adjusted her own pack.
“You will not shift?” Cord asked Tove curiously.
“No, Tegan and I have hunted like this many times before. We will keep up with the team.”
“This is your normal training routine?” Cord looked at Tegan with a raised eyebrow.
“I told you before, I can do this.” Tegan secured her long braid in her hood. “I have been doingthismy whole life.”
Cord did not have the words. His little tiger wasn’t arrogant, she genuinely could keep up with a pack of wolves and was completely fearless about it. Running into danger headfirst and her only concern seemed to be that her braid was loose.
“Those who are shifting, do it now,” Marcus commanded softly in the dark forest. “We do not stop until we catch them. I have their scent, who else?”
Several of the Elite Sentinels nodded, and Cord looked away as half of them took their fatigues off. The discarded clothes were taken by their team members into their backpacks, and then everyone seemed to be watching him.
“I can stay,” Cord said quietly. Marcus looked at him in surprise. “I have the same training as Elite Sentinel Tegan.” He ignored Tegan’s snort. “I can keep up,” he told her dryly.
“This is a hunt for Elite Sentinels. You are not Lycan, Castor.” Tegan grinned wickedly at him. “You do not have the skills oftheseElites.”
“You are a cruel female,mate.” Cord returned her spiteful smile with one of his own.
“That’s twice you have acknowledged Elite Sentinel Tegan as your mate,” Tove told him with an arched eyebrow. “I find it curious. But we do not have time for a lovers’ quarrel.”
Tegan rolled her eyes at Tove before she remembered that they were not on speaking terms. She looked away hurriedly.
“Let’s go,” Marcus said as the Elites who had shifted were now pacing restlessly, the wolves ready to hunt.
Cord grabbed Tegan one more time, halting her progress out of the clearing. “You call for me if you need me,” he told her urgently. “I mean it, little tiger, if you are in danger, you scream.”
Tegan was about to reply with a scathing remark, but when she looked up at him, her retort died on her lips. Her fingers caressed his face gently. “I will.”
Cord held her for one more moment, and then his hand fell from her arm. “Be strong, be swift, be safe.”
“I always am.” Tegan grinned, and then she was off running after the Lycans with Tove, who held back waiting for her.
Even in the darkened forest, Cord did not miss the excited grin that Tove gave her, nor did he miss Tegan’s answering light laugh. He watched them disappear into the trees, and he hesitated.I should follow them, he thought.He could more than keep up with a pack of Lycan. His thoughts danced back to his tower and the textbook he had found in the Pure Cast’s library. He was so close to deciphering the meaning of the words.
He suspected that it was a prophecy, but the language it was written in was archaic, and he was having difficulty. He needed the Sisters or at least the old Texts that the Great Council carried with them. If he could get them, then he felt that most of the hard work would be done. Cord suspected that the Great Council knew what was happening. A Council who hid that the Mark of Velvore was recorded two more times than the celebrated one? Yes, Cord was sure they knew more than they were telling.
He looked to the trees one more time. He knew the Sentinels were gone, but the pull to his little tiger gnawed at his gut. Would she be okay out there? She was with the Lycan who put a knife to her throat. Well, Tove had put a knife tohisthroat but commanded a knife be put to Tegan’s. He took a deep breath. Marcus was with them, he reminded himself. Marcus would never let anything happen to Salem’s daughter.
“Just leave!” he chided himself. “She will be fine. She is not standing about, wondering aboutyou.” With that harsh reminder, Cord portalled himself back to his tower. When he was in his room, he checked the lock and spells on his door and pulled off his robes, tossing them aside. As he changed quickly into his sleeping clothes, soft black pants with a soft brushed cotton sleep shirt, he sat down at his desk and, murmuring the spell, he opened the box in which he kept the textbook he had taken from the library.
“Velvore, tell me how to decode this?” he muttered half-heartedly. He waited for the familiar pulse on his Mark, but he felt nothing. “Why give me this Mark and then not speak to me?” Cord growled in frustration.
