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He could almost hear the Drakhyn smile. “Well, let’s see if my brothers caninterestyou,” the Drakhyn gloated as it vanished and the ground opened to reveal the army of Drakhyn it had concealed.
Cord’s mouth hooked in a smirk.Thiswas what he had waited for. To force them into the open so they were no longer in the tunnels under the mountain.
He stepped forward to the doors and bowed his head. Despite the snarling from the Drakhyn, Cord felt the quiet that surrounded him. Even the moon peeked from behind the clouds, curious to witness his Cast. The Drakhyn raced towards him, but he did not turn, he did not bend to the will of his enemy.
“Ancients be true,” he whispered as he took the limb of the Mountain Ash and sliced his palm open. “I am the Mark of Velvore and the Mark is me,” Cord said as his blood ran freely over the wood. “I have the blood of my father and my father before him in my veins. I have fire in my blood from the Flare so bright. I have the Mark of three Ancients on my back.” Cord gripped the wood tighter, his blood coating it. “Arflyn, your grace keeps me humble. Brindlelay, your beauty and your wrath keep me strong. Velvore, I am your warrior, and I am ready for this fight.” Cord heard the Drakhyn get closer, but still he never hurried. “I have the blood of the Made in my veins, the blood of the Father runs true,” he said softly even as he slapped his bloodied hand against the wooden doors, and with his other hand, he gripped the Mountain Ash. “I am the Mark and the Mark is me, even when I cannot see you, I know you are with me.”
Cord raised his head to look at the doors before he turned swiftly and grabbed a Drakhyn by the throat, raising the wooden dagger to slice its throat. He thrust the Drakhyn to the doors where his handprint still shone wetly in the moonlight, the black blood of the Drakhyn mingled with his own stain. “I am the Mark, and I carry the blood of Velvore. This mountainwillopen to me.” He stood back, whispering the spell as he dropped the Drakhyn’s body carelessly to the ground. “This spell is broken. Brothers and sisters, your Mark bids you be free.” With a lunge forward, Cord drove the Mountain Ash dagger deep into the wooden doors where it shattered into a thousand splinters. The force of the spell breaking knocked the Drakhyn off their feet as the doors swung open and the wind rose fiercely.
Turning to face the Drakhyn, Cord finally unleashed the power of his Flare, and his fury licked over the fallen as if it were hungry flames consuming dry wood.
When he was done, he fell to his knees in the snow, exhaustion racing through his body as the adrenalin faded. His bloody hand dripped into the snow beneath him, staining the already dark snow with more blood.
“Castor?”
He raised his head to look at the Vampyre he did not know. The Made was gaunt, his features sunken. Wordlessly Cord raised his bloody hand. “Take but a sip,” he cautioned, “my Flare burns bright this night.”
Reverently the Vampyre dipped his head and took but a small pull. “Thank you,” he whispered. He turned his head to look at the Made coming cautiously to the entrance. He beckoned them forward as he turned back to the exhausted Castor.
Cord raised a weary hand to his forehead, brushing his hair back. “If you find me a prop to lean against, I can give the same to all the ones who need it.”
The Vampyre dropped to his knees beside Cord. “Lean on me, Castor, I will ensure only the weakest drink.”
Cord nodded his thanks and, with great relief, lay his head on the shoulder of the Made. “My name is Cord,” he said tiredly.
“I am Nathanial,” the Made said quietly.
“I have others,friends, who will be here soon to aid you.” He felt someone’s lips on his cut. “Be careful, do not let them take too much,” he mumbled as he closed his eyes.
* * *
When he woke, he was in a bed. A soft plush duvet covered him, giving him comfort. Cord turned his head slightly and met the harsh glare. Turning his head back, he closed his eyes again.
“If we could skip the lecture, I would be grateful.” He opened one eye. “I did break the spell. The Made are free.”
“Your Flare was depleted to the point of extinction, your blood loss was…I don’t even want to talk about it, it was reckless and stupid and dangerous—”
“If you don’t want to talk about it, why are you still yelling at me?” Cord broke in as he sat up abruptly. He felt slightly light-headed but reached for the glass of water, anyway, fighting back the smile as the male knocked his hand away and placed the water with the straw to his lips.
“You are the most conceited, most reckless, most arrogant male I have ever been unfortunate enough to meet.”
Cord took his lips off the straw. “Thank you for worrying about me, Lucas,” he said seriously. “Are the Made well?”
“They are,” Lucas said as he gently took the water glass away from him. “The ones that drank from you rejuvenated quickly.” Lucas exhaled heavily. “They are calling themselvesyour guard.” Cord beamed widely at this, while Lucas groaned. “No, Cord, I refuse to allow you to have your own personal guard.”
“But why?” Cord grinned impishly. “I amexactlythe right Akrhyn to have an entourage!”
“I will confine you to your tower,” Lucas snapped.
Cord laughed but quickly sobered. “I am glad they are well.” He looked out of the window, noticing the view had changed. “I am at Northern Headquarters?”
“You are.” Lucas sat back and watched him closely. “A lot has happened,” he added quietly.
“She is well?”
“Tegan is fine. Michael and she had another encounter with the Drakhyn,” Lucas said as he looked at Cord, his tone serious. “He will not stop,” he warned.
“Then I will make him stop,” Cord said grimly. “I spoke with him before I opened the doors,” he said grimly. “I know what I am up against.”
