Page 61 of Lost in Darkness (Akrhyn 2)

He opened to the page where he had been previously. He had pointed it out to Marcus and Lucas in Salem’s office before the Great Council had turned up. Rorik had glared but said nothing about Cord breaking into his Cast’s library. Rorik often said nothing when it came to Cord. Cord smirked, as he was quietly confident it was because the Pure Prime Castor was intimidated by him. Cord knew he was already a talented Castor long before he received the Mark. He was sure that was why he had been selected. In the beginning, he had been so sure of this. Then he realised he was bonded to Tegan, and now he was unsure as to whether he was selected to bear it because he washermate.

Was it possible? Had he been selected not because of his own merit, but because of Tegan’s? She truly was an exceptional Elite; he had heard of her training before he met her. Rumours, of course, they had never named her, but when he met her, he realised that the whispers of the talented Akrhyn who would be the youngest Elite Sentinel were abouthislittle tiger.

Cord snorted in contempt. “Little tiger.” He hated that he had given her a nickname. It was almost an endearment. Apetname. He shuddered in revulsion. Such sentimental twaddle was for others, like his brother, not for Cord Ivanov. His lips twisted in distaste once again.Ivanov. He detested the name as much as the man who bore it. His name should be Cord Lebedev. His father was a Lebedev, and Cord should be too. But no, his mother had to take Cornelius’s name, and because Cornelius was willing, she made sure her son took his name also.

Of course Cornelius wanted Cord as his own. Even as a child, Cord’s progress through the Trials was well documented. He was outperforming peers twice his age. His affinity for his craft was noteworthy. Cornelius knew that Cord’s Flare burned strong. Everyone did. He had been hated by his peers for many years as a result, which is why when he was younger, he had tried to be humble. Gracious. However, jealousy rears its head in any species, and his fellow Castors were not kind to him. Lanky and scrawny, the youth decided that not only would he outshine them in their craft, he would outshine them in their warfare too.

Cord began to split his training with Sentinel training. It was rare for a Castor to learn weapons apart from the basics on how to defend yourself. But Cord wanted to be better than the typical Castors. He had trained until he excelled. The truth was that he loved fighting. Sometimes on the hunts, he would not rely on his Flare at all and defeat his enemies with his skill in weaponry.

He knew why he was thought better to be matched with the Dark Cast. He knew the rumours of him, that he excelled in killing, therefore the darker Cast should call to him. And had he not received the Mark three weeks before his final Trials, he would have agreed. Although he did not partake in animal sacrifices, he did lean towards the darker spell making. He was not afraid of his results. He did not fear what he may call forth.

But the Mark did appear, and he knew Lucas Chernov noticed far more than Garrick Becker. Despite the insinuations, Cord had not manipulated his result. He was not shocked when there was no clear Cast that he was aligned to though. How could there be, when he wore the Mark on his back? Velvore served all, and as the bearer of the Mark, so did Cord.

“Serve all,” he mumbled as he skimmed the page of his text. “I would prefer to serve none.” It was no secret he had always been scathing to his fellow Akrhyn. They wanted things that Cord found futile. A partner. A family. A home. He rolled his eyes as he copied the words onto his parchment.

He had a family, and he would happily have nothing to do with them. Well, that wasn’t true; he genuinely loved his brother. A home? He was content in his tower. He would have picked the tower room in whatever Cast he had been chosen for. He did not need fancy Headquarters or Elder mansions in the territory. Cord fervently hoped Sloane took the Ivanov residence when Cornelius finally died. And as for a partner? His quill stilled on the parchment. He had never cared. Castors were slightly different from the other Akrhyn. They were morefluidin their choice of partner, many choosing to “sample” before they bought, as it were. Cord himself was no innocent. Why would he be? He had never been looking for anything from anyone.

Raven black hair flashed into his mind, and dark indigo eyes staring at him in accusation. Tegan Novikov Holt. She was a complication he had not accounted for. His plan to live his life in his tower, studying, learning, being better...it all died the moment he realised who she was. Even in the training room that night they first met, the draw to her was undeniable. Her innocence matched with her incredible tenacity to fight made her perfect.Shewas perfect, the light and dark within her seamlessly balanced.

Cord tossed the quill to the side as he stood in frustration. He, Cord Ivanov, did not describe females asperfect. They served a purpose, yes, and he did not doubt at one time in the future—the very,veryfar future—he would require to marry one so he could have a family. His stomach turned. Him? As a father? No. It sounded horrible, even to him. He would be a terrible parent. He had looked after Sloane, yes, but usually he got his little brother into more trouble than out of it. No, parenthood, although expected of him, was not a task at which he was sure he would perform well at.

And now look at him. Bonded.Bonded. He shook his head. He couldn’t break it. He had tried everything. He had even prayed for pity of the Ancients, but he had received nothing. A slight hum on his Mark, and if he didn’t know better, he could have sworn Velvore was laughing at him. Cord looked at the book and his parchments on the desk. He had overturned his ink pot when he tossed the quill aside. He spoke an incantation, and the pot righted itself as the ink disappeared from his desk, leaving a faint stain behind.

“I need those Texts,” Cord told the empty room again. His hand ran through his hair in frustration. An idea formed in his head, and he began to smile as he thought it out. Cornelius Ivanov was a useless snake of a male, but he was an eager-to-please snake. Cord pulled his robes back on over his sleep attire. Maybe it was time to make use of the fork-tongued male that called himself his father.

* * *

Tegan and Tove ran through the woods. It was like old times, when the two would run on a hunt following Leonid. Only, her father was not with them, and instead they followed Marcus. He had not changed to his wolf form, but he ran like he had. His speed was impressive, and on either side of them ran two wolves. The other Elites who remained in their Lycan form were behind them. They were not trailing, they merely were keeping the rear. Tegan knew that halfway through the hunt, the Lycans would switch out, and those in their wolf form would change back to their Lycan form and vice versa.

It conserved their strength and kept them running all night. Tegan would not be given the opportunity to switch out. She was merely an Akrhyn with no special abilities. But she had been trained by Leonid Novikov, and he did not believe any Akrhyn weremerelyanything. If a Lycan could do it, then so could she. Only Vampyres had the ability to “blur,” and Tegan did not envy them the ability. Why boast about speed when you could never taste rabbit stew again? Or bleed when hurt?

The first time her father had cut himself and no blood appeared had upset Tegan completely. She had nightmares for weeks before she had controlled herselfandher fears. What had she actually been afraid of? Her father would never hurt her, and he was not a monster. Once she had rationalised her brain into being normal, she had apologised to her father. Of course, he had known that she was struggling, but Leonid was a big believer in sorting out your own problems.

Tegan ran lightly over the dense forest floor, eyes scanning ahead for debris, tree trunks and other obstacles. This was second nature to her, and she was so happy she was hunting rather than being in that Headquarters, listening to other Akrhyn’s misery. She was not uncompassionate, but she was not good with other Akrhyn. Her cousin’s pain caused her pain. She knew she cared for her blond-haired, gentle cousin. The fact that Zahra had showed him such disrespect hurt him and therefore hurt Tegan. It was one of the reasons she was eager to come on this hunt. Zahra needed a strong fist to the jaw in Tegan’s opinion. She knew Tove had known what she was thinking as she had caught the slight shake of Tove’s head when Tegan had eagerly agreed to hunt. Tove knew her well.

No one, it seemed, knew Zahra. To sleep with a human? Have sex with a human? It was not unheard of. Akrhyn protected the human race as they were too weak and stupid to look after themselves. Tegan was not naïve; she knew that feelings could be formed from protecting them. There were many cases where Akrhyn had to declare what and who they were to the humans, especially if they were being hunted. Her father had told her many years ago that sometimes they formed feelings and acted on them.

So sleeping with humans was not uncommon. Preferring a human to an Akrhyn though? That was odd. For Zahra to want to live away from her kind and live in the human world, that had made Tegan suspicious. The fact she agreed to a betrothal with Sloane when she wanted nothing to do with Akrhyn raised Tegan’s suspicions more. These suspicions were confirmed when Kallie had hinted that perhaps Zahra was not as “human” as she pretended in this school she attended.

Tegan thought about it as she ran. Zahra was in the shadow of her brother. Michael truly was a good Sentinel. They thought he would be Principal. They thought he was Heir. Mikayla, her mother, had also been a worthy Sentinel. If Zahra was going to feel inadequate, she would be justified in the Holt family. However, to hide in the human world and then use her Akrhyn abilities to be better than them was no better than cheating.

Tegan snorted with derision as she ran. Cheating seemed to be a theme in Zahra’s life. Why would she agree to Sloane if she was going to be so disrespectful to him? Tegan had been surprised they were betrothed. It wasn’t even a simple promise, it was a betrothal in the eyes of the Ancients. Both were expected to remain true to each other. Tegan thought about her laughing, carefree cousin. He was so full of light and goodness. Would he have stayed true to Zahra? He was a good-looking specimen of a male. His muscles were well formed, his hair golden, his eyes a light blue. There was nothing really unappealing about him. Not like his brother, whose grey eyes concealed too many secrets. A lithe body, with muscle yes, but not like Sloane’s. He wore his strength well. Cord was more lethal.Lethal?Tegan almost tripped over her feet at the thought. Yes, Cord was lethal.

Sloane was intimidating in his size and strength, but between the two of them, you knew that the one to show you mercy would be Sloane. Cord exuded danger. It was in the way his eyes slanted at you when you spoke and he considered your words. It was in the tilt of his head when his hair fell over his eyes as he hid his thoughts. It was in the twist of his full lips when he would look at you, full of mockery. It was in the slant of his shoulders as he rationalised your actions. The flex of his hands when he was agitated. His hands would fist, and you would see his muscle definition under his shirt as he resisted striking out at your stupidity.

Why was she thinking about the Castor? Tegan dipped her head to avoid a low hanging branch as she noticed that Tove had pulled ahead. Tossing away all idle thoughts of the Castor, her mind returned to her...sister. It still felt odd to call Zahrasister. She had no problems at all recognising Michael asbrother, so she wondered why she stumbled oversister. Perhaps because Michael felt right? He felt like her kin. Zahra hated her. It was obvious. She resented her, and she did not hide it.

Was it simply because her brother had accepted her that they fit, and because her sister had not was the reason Tegan felt distant? Was it that simple? Or had she always known Zahra would have no honour? Tegan felt guilty for thinking it, but it was true. She rebutted the Akrhyn lifestyle but used her abilities to gain advantage in the human world. She wanted a betrothal to a noble and worthy Akrhyn but threw that respect and honour in his face and that of her father’s when she slept with a human. It wasn’t even that he was human, it was the fact it was not Sloane.

No, it had nothing to do with the fact her sister resented her. Tegan would have disliked her simply because she was not a nice Akrhyn. Leonid would be appalled when he learned of her behaviour. However, Tegan reminded herself, it was not deserved for Zahra to be taken by the Drakhyn. Could she be the female they sought? Tegan had been the one to suggest it, but as they ran through the night, barely pausing for water, she realised it made no sense for it to be Zahra.

If Talia was compromised, then she would have told them of Zahra. The Drakhyn would have attacked the school where Zahra was. They wouldn’t have endangered themselves by coming to the Headquarters. Tegan’s steps faltered. She looked around the group. Five females including her. She knew it could not be her. That left four.

“Stop.” Her voice rang out in the cold night air. “Everyone stop.”

“Tegan?” Marcus’s voice called out questioningly.

“It is not Zahra they seek,” Tegan said as she met the eyes of the wolves and the Lycan Elite.

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