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“Marcus will talk to her and see what that headstrong Castor actually said.” Salem sipped his drink.
“And if he has ordered her under the Mark?”
“Then we need to prepare for the scrutiny we’ll come under for carrying out an investigation on a Territory Elder’s House.” Salem stared into his glass before he tipped the contents back in one swallow. “And pray to the Ancients that this is not what she has been asked to do.”
“It would expose any secrets Cornelius has,” Marcus murmured in the silence a few moments later. “It could actually be advantageous.”
“It could, but it needs to be ordered by anyone who isnothis disgruntled stepson, Mark or not.”
All three turned their attention to the door when it was knocked and then opened tentatively. Sloane’s head appeared around the door. “Hey,” he greeted as he pushed the door open further. “Just the males I am looking for.” His light-hearted tone did not hide the heaviness of his shoulders.
“Sloane?” Salem asked him as he looked at him in concern. “What’s happened?” As he watched the younger male approach his desk, Salem felt a shiver of apprehension.
“This,” Sloane said quietly as he handed the Principal a letter. The paper was thick linen, the House Crest easily recognisable, the handwriting well-known.
Sloane,
As your father and Elder, I order you to return to House Ivanov to complete your Sentinel training and teachings of Heir. You will leave House Holt at once and return to fulfil your duties as commanded by the Ancients, the Mark of Velvore and the Great Council.
This is your duty under the law of Heir.
Your father,
Cornelius Matteo Ivanov
Elder of the Northern Territory
Salem read it twice and had to refrain from crumpling the paper. Creases in the paper indicated that the male in front of him had already done that before smoothing it out again. “I can’t fight this,” Salem told him quietly. “Heir law trumps all other Sentinel orders, and you are here to train, you are not an Elite Sentinel in my command yet.”
“I know,” Sloane told him quietly as he watched Salem hand the letter to Marcus. “He knows that too.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sloane met the sad look the Principal gave him and gave the slightest nod in acknowledgement. “I’ll be gone within the hour. Tell my cousin not to be a stranger.” He looked at the other males in the room. “Until next time.” He turned and walked out of the study, his feet heavy.
When the door was closed, Salem looked at Marcus and raised an eyebrow in question. The Lycan’s grin was wicked, and his eyes gleamed with amusement before he looked to Bryce.
“Inform Elite Sentinel Tegan she has an order from the Mark of Velvore to fulfil.”
“He’s either very,verystupid or thinks he is too smart to get caught,” Salem said to Marcus when Commander Bryce left the room.
“He’s both,” Marcus answered. “Cleverandstupid. There’s only one word to describe him.”
“Dangerous,” Salem grumbled as he tipped his second glass of brandy back.
“Indeed.” Marcus stood as his mind raced. “I would accompany her on this wild chase.”
“It was never in doubt.” Salem leaned back in his chair as he thought of all the pieces moving on the board. “A war is almost upon us, and Cornelius is playing politics.”
“It’s a game we need to play,” Marcus said tiredly as he set his glass down on the desk.
“I’ll play,” Salem growled as he too stood. “And I’llwin.”
Cord walked backwards and forwards over the wooden floorboards of the bedroom he had taken in the house they were utilising as a base. Before he had returned to the house yesterday, he had hidden in the trees and looked over the mass of the army sitting at the bottom of the mountain in which the Vampyres held their Court.
He had never seen so many Drakhyn in one place. They were not restless, they were not breaking into smaller groups, they were not fighting each other. They were organised and looked ready to mobilise at any time. They reminded him of something he didn’t want to accept.
They reminded him of Sentinels.
