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“I’ll gather them now.” Taras bowed his head in reverence. “Alpha.”
With a rueful look at Tove, Marcus followed Taras out of the tent. “Well, I suppose one of us has to go tell Misty and Nyla,” he grumbled as he made his way to the birthing tent.
“Youarethe alpha,” Tove teased as she watched him enter the tent. She did not envy him that conversation. Not at all.
“Has there been further word from Marcus?” Tegan asked Salem as she pushed her food around her plate.
“No, not since he delivered his message about the Prophecy,” Salem said soberly as he placed his knife and fork on his plate. “I do not have much appetite either,” he told her with a small smile.
“Father always told me a good soldier waits, plans and plots,” Tegan said as she took a sip of her water. “I amsosick of waiting, Salem, I need to bedoing.”
Salem nodded as he looked at the empty chairs at the dining table. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Tegan looked at him and then to the empty seat across from her where her brother usually sat. The seat beside her was empty because her cousin was being the Heir to his House that they so desperately needed after Cornelius was taken into custody. Zahra still wouldn’t eat with them, and Marcus was in the depths of the Canadian wilderness, fighting Lycans sworn to the Drakhyn. “I don’t know,” Tegan said with a reluctant smile. “Do I?”
Salem smiled at her hesitancy. “What you said at the Castor hall—”
“No, Salem. I am truly sorry for snapping at you like that, you did not deserve that.” Tegan leaned forward in her seat in earnest. “That blasted Castor confuses me and makes me feel things I shouldn’t feel.” She looked down at her plate. “But even though he irritates me to the point of irrationality, I should never have spoken to you like that.”
“If it’s what you feel...” Salem trailed off as he watched her. She looked so much like her mother it was uncanny.
“Michael, well, he said things he shouldn’t have, and he has since apologised.” Tegan tucked her hair behind her ears as she looked at Salem guiltily. “But I was wrong to take my frustrations out on you. You have been nothing but kind to me, and you have accepted me.”
“I have,” Salem said as he leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand as he watched his daughter. “But I think there may be some way to go before you accept me, maybe?”
Tegan grimaced as she looked down at her plate and took a deep breath. “My father, Leonid, he does not tolerate weakness. Or excuses. You either do your best or you don’t.” Tegan looked at Salem. “I don’t think I need to tell you this, he trained you after all. But it’s all or nothing with him, and that’s not curtailed to the training room. It’s everything.”
“I’m aware,” Salem said, trying to keep the dryness out of his voice.
“Father is...old.” Tegan gave a light laugh. “Father isveryold, and I think he forgets sometimes that we are not all as old, or as wise, as he.”
“What do you mean?” Salem asked her as he leaned back. This was the most open Tegan had been about her father and him since she got here.
“I think he forgets,” Tegan said in a low voice.
“Forgets?”
“How to feel.” Tegan looked over her shoulder almost guiltily.
“Ah, I see.” Salem took a drink of his water as he waited for her to continue.
“I’m eighteen,” Tegan said with a faint blush. “I am bonded to the most cantankerous, infuriating,maddeningmale that ever walked this earth, and on top of that, he thinks he is a gift of the Ancients.” Tegan scowled as she thought of the Castor. “But he is marked as mine, and I his. Whether the bond is true or a result of the Mark, we will never know. I am his and he is mine.” Tegan dropped her head into her hands as she thought about it. “And I don’t know how to feel about that,” she admitted.
“You are scared?” Salem asked her quietly. He hated to see how vulnerable she looked as she confided in him.
“I am.” Tegan looked up at him as she straightened in the seat, her hands running over her hair. “I have been trained since—” She paused. “Actually, I don’t ever remember not being trained. I was to be the best and the best only. And I relish the fact that I am well-trained and Iknowmy ability to fight and my skill, but...”
“But you were never given the chance to be a child,” Salem finished softly.
Tegan looked at him before she looked away, wiping at her eyes hurriedly. “I don’t know what in Arflyn’s name I am sitting here crying for,” she said with a disgusted laugh. “I am stronger than this.”
“What did Cord do?” Salem asked as he struggled to maintain his easy casual manner in which he spoke to her. He was desperate to cross the room and soothe his daughter, but he knew Tegan would clam up, and he may never get her being so open again.
“He kissed me.” Tegan’s voice was almost a whisper, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “And something happened to us, to the bond. A tightness in our chests, and when he felt it, he pushed me away and accused me of tricking him.” Tegan rubbed her nose as she scowled at the wall across from her. “And then the Drakhyn turns up, and we have Cornelius to deal with, and the first person he turns to is me. He neededmeto keep him calm, but only moments before, he was saying I tricked him, and he was then with other Akrhyn like I mattered not, but then the Drakhyn comes, and he needs me and Idomatter.”
Salem sat quietly as he digested Tegan’s jumbled ramblings. His desire to punch Cord was strong, and he realised that Tegan had obviously told Michael, which is why Michael had punched the Castor.
“I’m sorry,” Tegan whispered. “You don’t need to hear this.”
