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Salem nodded as Tegan spoke. “I have sent for Castor Jameis.”
“Why Jameis? Just to piss Cord off?” Michael guessed.
Salem smirked. “No, because I trust the Castor.” Salem’s lips twitched though, giving way to a light laugh. “Okay. Maybe a little.”
The door opened and Marcus came back into the room. “They have gone.” Marcus looked to Tegan. “We should be too. Time is not our ally anymore.”
Stooping, Tegan picked up her backpack and shouldered it on. Michael helped her with the straps, and when she was sure that she was secure, she looked up to see Salem was in front of her.
“Be strong, be swift, be safe,” Salem said to them both.
As Michael hugged Tegan, she watched Salem exchange quiet words with Marcus. “You’ll not kill him?”
Michael’s words brought her attention back to her brother. “Not on the first night,” she said with a smile.
“Oh, it’s going to be a disaster.” Michael looked towards Commander Bryce, who looked inclined to agree.
“Come, Tegan, Castor Jameis is already here.” Marcus patted Michael’s shoulder in farewell as he passed, and Tegan started to follow him before she hesitated. Turning swiftly, she embraced Salem and then stepped back, her face reddening at her actions, before she hurried after the Lycan.
Commander Bryce followed them from the room, and when they were gone, Michael turned to his dad to see he was still wearing a happy smile. “And then there were two,” he said to him.
“We have much to do,” Salem said gravely. “Are you ready?”
“Absolutely.”
Cord was sitting in the kitchen, looking at Garrick, his attention on the Prime of his Cast while his Prime was conversing with Pure Prime Castor Rorik. Cord knew his patience was running out, he knew it because he could feel his Flareflutteringin anticipation of being used, and Cord was close to unleashing his power. His frustration at the impenetrable spell was building, and the horde of Drakhyn at the foot of the mountain was agitating him.
Why weren’t they moving? What were they waiting for? Was it a distraction, and if it was, a distraction forwhat?
Dark Prime Castor Chernov had not yet returned from Northern Headquarters, and Cord wasn’t overly happy that he didn’t knowwhyLucas had decided to leave to go and see Salem in the first place. If it was because Cord had been in Tegan’s bedroom, they had other things, morepressingthings, to hold their attention.
Like the army of Drakhyn outside.
“Why are we still talking about this?” Cord interrupted the Pure Prime. “I have heard this many times since we got here, and we are stillhere, nothing has changed, and yet we still donothing.”
“We are not doing nothing, Castor Ivanov, we are preparing,” Rorik barked at him. “And do not protest, your House name isIvanov. Cornelius Ivanov is the male who raised you, whose House you have represented for twenty years. Have your childish tantrum with your father on your own time, don’t push it down everyone else’s throats.” Rorik’s look was angry, his eyes narrowed on the young male in front of him. “I am preparing for a war, not a child’s temper tantrum because daddy didn’t love him enough.”
Cord was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open. He saw that Garrick was also slack-jawed at the Pure Prime’s outburst.
“A temper tantrum?” Cord asked him, his voice dangerously low, making Garrick sit up and look between the two males. “Do you forget my age,PurePrime Castor Rorik?” Cord didn’t wait for the Castor to reply. “I will turn twenty-two in less than three weeks. At the age of twenty-two, Akrhyn may choose to change their family name, whether that’s to be Second to a House, whether to declare a House from a smaller, less influential family, or they may choose to change their family name as they are intended to be marriedorbecause thefatherthat raised them is so vile an Akrhyn, so filled with prejudice and hate, that the thought of bearing his name any longer is like swallowing poison.” Cord stood so quickly his chair was pushed back and toppled over. “I was arrogant in my belief that having this Mark of Velvore allowed me some grace to change mine early, but please, Pure Prime Castor Rorik, use Ivanov when you address me for the next nineteen days, I’ll be sure to express my thoughts each and every time you do.”
“You would bring shame to your House?” Rorik snapped angrily.
“He brings shame to his House every time he disrespects a Lycan or a Vampyre, and if you cannot see that, or see that and choose to ignore it, you are no better than him,” Cord replied heatedly, his knuckles resting on the table as he leaned forward. “But we already know you are one of his strongest supporters,PurePrime Castor Rorik.”
“Cord,” Garrick warned as he too stood. “Why don’t you do another sweep outside, see if the patrols have found anything new we could use.”
Cord stood for a moment longer, then with a sharp nod to his Prime, he left the kitchen, his fury hanging in the kitchen behind him.
“Well, if you want to poke the bear to act, I guess that’s one way,” Garrick said with a sigh as he sat down again. “Honestly, Rorik, haven’t we enough to contend with?”
Rorik exhaled heavily as he too sat. “I forgot he wasn’t yet twenty-two,” he admitted wryly. “He’s just always been so…adult. It seemed like his choice to move to his father’s name was out of spite, not genuine desire.”
“I think we are all guilty of forgetting that Cord is still so young. At twenty-one, I was still trying to master my Master’s sleeping potion,” Garrick grunted. “Cord mastered it when he was thirteen.”
“He has always had so much power,” Rorik said as he tilted his head to look at the ceiling. “To grace him with the Mark, it seems too much.”
“You still cannot see it?” Garrick asked quietly.
