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“Cord!” Sloane called out. “We need out of here! There are more coming!” he warned.
“Castor!” Tegan called to him sharply. “Tove!”
Cord flung his knife at the Drakhyn Tegan was fighting and saw with satisfaction that it stuck through its throat. He quickly portalled to Tove’s side and grabbed her.
“No!” Tove screamed, but Cord had already taken her. “Aid her!” he barked at the stunned Pure Castors in their medical wing before he went back for Tegan.
The Drakhyn that had been fighting Tove were now focusing on the other Lycans and Tegan. Sloane was fighting off two, no three, and had made his way over to Tegan. The two of them were side by side, facing opposite directions. Tegan and Sloane were both okay, he assured himself before he grabbed the fur of one of the Elite Lycan. He took her to the wing where he saw Tove was fighting off the Castors who were trying to aid her. “Enough!” Cord yelled. “If she wants to bleed to death, let her. Someone get to the Northern Headquarters and get Salem and Jameis!”
He portalled out again, and this time he was running towards his brother, who was down on one knee as he fought off a Drakhyn who was bearing down on him. Cord’s sword cut the Drakhyn’s arm off, and it toppled forward as it lost its balance, and the momentum of its weight fell forward. Sloane had been quick witted enough to withdraw his resistance and roll to the side, avoiding the body. As the Drakhyn fell, his sword removed its head.
Sloane turned back to Tegan, who was only using one sword now. “Cord, she needs you!” he cried.
“Get the other female, Castor. There is only one left,” Tegan screamed. “Do not let her be taken!”
Cord hesitated. She was in trouble. He could see she was falling back under the volume of the Drakhyn advancing on her. He glanced to the wolf that was fighting her own battle. His Mark warmed. No, it could not be. Leave Tegan? The Mark grew warmer. Cord threw another knife to the back of a Drakhyn advancing on his brother. “Shade!” Cord swore and then rushed forward and grabbed the fur of one wolf even while she snarled up at him. Risking the Lycan’s wrath, he portalled them to the medical wing.
He didn’t bother with instructions this time in the medical wing, he merely teleported back to the fight. Talia was screaming instructions out to the Drakhyn, and Cord looked at the sheer number of Drakhyn surrounding his mate and his brother. Tegan and Sloane were back-to-back, both injured. He could see blood running down Tegan’s face, and he saw that she was no longer using her left arm to hold a weapon. Sloane too was bleeding, but he still stood strong.
The Drakhyn were slowly, slowly advancing, making the space he needed to get to them smaller. Cord called out, and Tegan’s eyes flew to him. “Advance straight!” he called. She nodded once. Sloane spun, and they started to attack the Drakhyn in front of them. Cord yelled out as a dagger slid into his side. He turned wildly and looked at Talia as she grinned at him.
His Mark burned as he stumbled, even as the older Akrhyn pushed her dagger in deeper. Talia cried out as Cord gripped her hand and pulled the dagger in more. “Feel that, witch?” he hissed. “That’s the wrath of Velvore!”
Talia screamed as her skin burned and hissed as fire raced up her arm and over her body. Cord shoved her away from him, and then clutching his side, he teleported to the back of his brother. He ducked as a talon struck at him, but he had his hands on his brother, and Sloane dropped his sword to grab Tegan. “Now!” Sloane screamed, and the three were gone.
Tegan fell to her knees as did Sloane in the white medical wing. Cord bent over as he tried to staunch the bleeding in his side.
“Tegan!” Salem was running to his daughter as Michael leapt to help his friend.
“You are hurt?” Lucas demanded of Cord as he knelt beside him.
“Old witch stabbed me,” Cord grunted as he held back the wave of pain. “I think she got something important.” He gave a mirthless laugh.
“You left Narween?” Tove demanded.
“She is dead,” Sloane said as he leaned on Michael.
“You cannot leave a fallen behind,” Tove said bitterly.
Cord looked up at her and around the blood-covered room with the Elite Sentinels who were being treated. “I think I have done more than I needed to.”
“Cord.”
He looked over at Tegan, who was struggling against the Castor trying to undress her of her fatigues. He looked into her eyes and rolled his own as he tore off his soiled robes. “Fine, I’ll bleed to death there instead.”
The Drakhyn were gathering and talking quietly amongst themselves and did not notice him as he came back. Crouching low, he saw the fallen body of the Elite. The Drakhyn were standing over her.
“Who killed this one?” one of them demanded.
“He is dead. She was not the one,” another spoke clearly.
“No, but she would have done for a while,” a Drakhyn said mournfully.
“The old one has died. She looks like she burned?” one of the Drakhyn further away commented with wonder. “Who would have that power?”
I do, scum, Cord snarled in his head. Pain stabbed through him from his wound.Why don’t you heal me?he thought peevishly to Velvore. He picked up a rock from beside him and threw it to his right as he teleported out of the spot he was in. When he reappeared, he was beside the fallen Elite. The Drakhyn’s mouth dropped open to warn the others, but Cord already had her and was gone.
When he reappeared in the medical wing with the dead Elite, Lucas was waiting to catch him as he fell. “Prime Castor,” Cord gasped. “They cannot see,” he whispered urgently.
