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As they walked together in companionable silence, Zahra realised something that had eluded her for the last few weeks. “I can do this,” Zahra told Kallie shyly as the two Akrhyn walked to the stairs together to go find Briony.
Kallie snorted in agreement, her arm slipping through Zahra’s. “You’re Zahra Holt, you can do anything.”
Zahra looked at Kallie quickly and saw the other female was being genuine. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t babysit that tiny butt for two years for you to give up now,” Kallie said with a grin.
As Zahra chuckled at Kallie’s forthrightness, she knew for the first time in a long time that she felt happy, actually happy, and as the two Akrhyn started to climb the stairs, Zahra was smiling.
Marcus ran through the night, his wolf relishing in the fact that it had the freedom to run. He hadn’t run in so long he had almost forgotten the taste of the night on his tongue. His blackened brown coat blended into the darkness of the forest. Marcus made no attempt to hide his progress through the national park as he bounded north to the pack of the Seven Woods.
His intent was to get there as soon as possible, and if he came across any Drakhyn on his way, well, he was looking forward to cutting them down with his claws.
Marcus hated the fact that he had to leave the others behind, given that the events of that evening were so shocking. He had always known Cornelius was a bigoted idiot, but to actuallysidewith the Drakhyn, to takeordersfrom them? If he hadn’t been there to witness it, he wouldn’t have believed it.
And they had taken Council Elder Anika. Marcus had known her since he was a pup. She was a well-respected Akrhyn, and he knew that was exactly why they targeted her. She wasn’t the only Lycan on the Great Council, but she was one of the most respected. As he ran, he considered the newer Council Elder, Farsin. He was very new, and from what Marcus had seen of him, he seemed keen to impress Cornelius. Which was ridiculous. Cornelius did not sit on the Great Council, he had absolutely no chance of ever doing so, and tonight’s actions just cemented that fact.
However, hedidhave a very good influence over others. He was conniving, cunning, and unfortunately, charming. Marcus had watched him actually persuade someone to his way of thinking in the space of a friendly conversation. It was a frightening skill he possessed and really was a skill that the Great Council should have utilised in their own favour more.
Marcus thought more of the evening as he ran. He still wasn’t sure why Michael had struck Cord—it was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, considering the other factors of the night—but it was so unlike Michael to act out. He was a good and stable Akrhyn, having been taught by his father and Marcus. Taught when to react and how to conduct himself. Punching Cord, someone as temperamental as Cord, was rash. Michael didn’t usually act rashly.
It had to have been Tegan or a result of something the Castor had done to Tegan. Although she was very efficient at looking after herself, Marcus mused. Her fire and spirit were inherited from her mother, Celeste. Her sense of duty and responsibility came from her father, Salem. Her ability to train and think like the perfect weapon, that was all Leonid.
Leonid had trained Marcus. Marcus’s wolf snorted as it ran; Leonid had trained almost all Akrhyn at one time or another, right up until nineteen years ago when he declared he could not stay in House Holt a moment longer after what Salem had done to Celeste. Looking back on it now, Marcus realised that they should have examined it closer then, rather than accept his words and avoid the embarrassment of digging deeper. Had they followed Leonid or pursued him over the years to come back into Akrhyn society, his hiding of Tegan would not have been so well done.
Which brought his thoughts to Tove Dalgaard, the wolf he had known for so long and who more and more he was having trouble thinking of anything but her. Tove was wild and free. From a young child, she had embraced her Lycan form and needed to be coaxed many times to return to her Akrhyn form. Tove’s father, Larcius, had encouraged her free spirit but always kept her in line and in compliance with the rule of the Great Council.
There were many packs who did not conform with the rule of the Great Council, choosing to live wilder and more akin to their brethren, actual wolves. But they weren’t wolves, they were Lycan, and as Lycan, they had a duty to defend their kind and humans from the scourge that was the Drakhyn. However, there were smaller packs that lost their way, forgot about the greater purpose. The pack of the Seven Woods were like them once, before they had a change of leadership, before the Drakhyn almost wiped them and a neighbouring pack out. Elrick was the pack’s Second and was no more than a beta, but he was loyal and true. He and his pack had assisted in the search for Zahra along with their neighbouring pack.
The Sisters had berated Marcus that very evening for leaving the pack troubles to Tove. He trusted Tove, and he knew her carefree almost nomad-like wanderings through the northern territory made it easier for the wild packs to accept her. As he ran, Marcus accepted the truth. He was Alpha. Not Tove. He may name her Second, and he had done so in Salem’s study, sending the command and declaration to all Lycans when he did through the link, but she was not him. No one was the alpha ofall, no one but him.
He had not heard from Tove since she had left, only that she had reached the pack lands and the hunt for Elrick was underway. He would know if anything caused her harm. She was not his mate, as his mate had been killed by Drakhyn a long time ago. His mate, his pups, his family. The rage and hate had caused the rip between Leonid and himself. He understood now that Leonid was not condemning the slaughter of the Drakhyn and the killing spree that Marcus went on, but that he was merely advising caution and advising against rashness.
When your entire world is ripped away from you, rage is sometimes the only thing you can call friend.
Marcus stopped at the cold riverside and drank eagerly from the water, his amber eyes glowing softly in the night. As he took his fill, he looked to the moon for guidance. The Ancients were revered and holy, but the moon…the moon held every Lycan’s heart in her grasp. The caress of the full moon on a Lycan’s fur was an elixir Marcus doubted even wolves could feel. He stared at it as he considered the oncoming war.
There was so much unknown to them. The Prophecy the Sisters gavefeltright, and he knew his part, but could he fulfil his role? Cord was… Marcus huffed in the moonlight as he watched the moon. Cord was a complexity he didn’t think he would ever understand in his lifetime, and he had been alive for a very long time. Cord was young,soyoung. His power was already impressive. Leonid said the strength of his Flare was almost addictive when he tasted him. To then give him the Mark, what did the Ancients know was coming? Who would stand against them that was so strong, so powerful, that they needed to award an already gifted yet capricious Castor the power of the Mark? His Mark was not only a gift from Velvore but possibly Arflyn as well? What power must run through his veins, Marcus wondered. He looked up at the moon again as he thought of the fear he dared not voice. Such power that could be so easily corrupted.
Marcus dipped his head to the moon as he turned and continued his journey. He would be in the Seven Woods pack lands before sunrise. Elrick needed to be found, and Taras needed to aid him should the Lycan not be able to lead. Marcus knew that both wives of each pack leader were pregnant and ready to birth any day. Nyla had once been an Elite Sentinel at Northern Headquarters, and she was a calming influence on her more headstrong mate, Taras. Both packs needed to be ready, Marcus felt it in his bones. The northern wild packs were the key to something, he just didn’t know what thesomethingwas.
As he headed through the forest, he became aware of them. At first they were scattered and alone, like Drakhyn usually were. As he passed more of them, he realised they weren’t scattered and isolated as he was used to, they were acting almost like scouts. A concept so removed from his own understanding of Drakhyn he would have laughed it off if he hadn’t been warned by the Prime Castors of what they had witnessed at the foot of the mountain.
It had been an illusion, but the three Primes were sure that the illusion was areflectionof something much larger.
They could not afford to face an army of Drakhyn. Illusion or not, Akrhyn were not prepared. Was it his role to make them prepared? He thought he was to advise and train Cord, but what if his role was to be Alpha to his pack? All Lycans were Marcus’s pack now. He had the ability to talk to them whether in Akrhyn or Lycan form and had accepted the title of Alpha no matter which pack he had visited or whose company he had been in. Marcus slowed his run. Had they considered the Prophecy wrong? Cord was the Mark, he was self-proclaimed a Storm, but were they all necessary for Cord alone?
Or was their role for all Akrhyn?
Marcus the Alpha. Alpha to the Lycans. It was a given and really required no explanation.
Leonid…the Father? They assumed it was to Tegan at first, but then they thought it must be to Cord, but why would it be Cord? The two had never met before Cord went to save him from the Darkness. Who was Leonid the Father to? Marcus almost stumbled. Leonid was one of the oldest living of the Made. He had been Made before the Great Council had even been created. Leonid’s wife, Kateryna, was Queen of the Made, which meant Leonid was Prince. No, not a prince, Marcus realised, afatherto the Vampyres.
Lucas the Mentor, but Cord was not his Cast. Lucas was a Dark Castor, Cord chose Crimson. Garrick was Cord’s mentor, which was demonstrated nearly every time they were together because Garrick advised Cord, and more importantly, Cord actuallylistenedto him. Lucas wasn’t the mentor to Cord, but he was the oldest Prime. Which meant he was a mentor toallthe Casts.
The Ravens—Salem, Michael and Tegan, with Salem being the Forger of the Blade and the Stone. Still no one knew which was the Stone and which was the Blade. No matter how many times the question was raised, the Sisters did not answer.
Could it be because they themselvesdid not know?
