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“Guiding,” Garrick said thoughtfully as he chewed. “We’re here to guide him.”
“By breaking revered sanctions that have been in place for eternity?” Rorik’s tone was heavy with derision.
“How he chooses to act on our guidance is a matter between the Mark and the Ancients,” Lucas told him smugly.
“And your own hands are clean as you are merely hisguide?” Rorik snorted in contempt. “And it ismycounsel he refuses.”
“The difference, Rorik, is that we believe in him and this fight. Although his actions may be crude and heavy-handed and notourmethods, he is doing what we need, not need as Primes but need as Akrhyn who are atwar.” Garrick’s look to the Pure Prime Castor was heavy with scorn.
The silence that followed Garrick’s rebuttal of the Pure Prime Cast was uncomfortable, and Elite Sentinel Kraver wasn’t sure if he should remain in the kitchen, leave, or attempt to speak. They told him that Castor Cord Ivanov was difficult to deal with, his reputation of arrogance and mockery was well-known, but in truth, the Elite Sentinel had felt more at ease with the younger Akrhyn than he did with the Prime Castors.
“Elite Sentinel Kraver.” Lucas spoke to him, and he straightened as their attention fell on him once more. “Can you tell me again what the reports are, leave nothing out. Rorik, I want the Elite Commanders in here too, to hear this,” he instructed.
“You’re sending me tofetchfor you?” Rorik asked in outrage.
“Stop dawdling, we have a lot to do,” Garrick barked as he stood. “So much to do and so little time,” he added worriedly as he watched the Pure Prime march from the room.
“What doyouthink the Drakhyn are waiting for?” Kraver asked worriedly as his eyes darted between the two Prime Castors.
“Us,” Lucas answered grimly as Garrick gravely nodded in agreement.
* * *
“Castor Ivanov!” the Sentinel protested as Cord stalked past him to the rooms where Council Elder Alexander had secluded himself in his Solitude. “You cannot disturb him.” The Sentinel hurried after Cord, his protests getting louder. “The Council Elder is in Solitude, he is not to be disturbed.”
“He is hiding,” Cord muttered as he strode along the corridor. “I don’t have time for hiding.” The marble floors echoed his angry strides, while the decorative potted plants and numerous vases of flowers assaulted his senses with their overpowering smell. Alexander was a Vampyre. The floral scent was overbearing to Cord; for a Vampyre it must be overwhelming, Cord thought as he walked along the hall, ignoring the scurrying footsteps of the House Akrhyn behind him.
“Cord!”
Cord’s footsteps faltered when he heard the sound of Cornelius’s voice behind him. As he slowed, he turned to look at his adoptive father. “Cornelius?” Cord asked coolly. “Why would you be here?”
“I cannot come and pay my respects to a Council Elder in Solitude?” Cornelius asked his stepson as he approached him. His dark three-piece suit did not hide the fact he had his blades with him. The bright green tie and matching pocket square did not detract from the fact that Cornelius also carried a small leather pouch tied around his wrist. A pouch that Cord himself had made for him when he was younger and delusional, believing that this was a good male.
“You hate Vampyres.” Cord’s voice was flat.
“You wound me with your words, son.”
“I am not your son.”
“I raised you, loved you like my own, nay, more than my own.” Cornelius’s eyes narrowed as he spoke to the young Castor.
“How easy you dismiss Sloane,” Cord snorted in contempt.
“I do not dismiss him; he would have been a good son had the Holts not poisoned his mind.”
“You were the one who sent him to them, to train. Tospy,” Cord reminded him coldly. “He is a better son than you deserve.”
“Such hate,” Cornelius murmured with a sad smile. “You have been gifted a great honour with the Mark.”
“The Mark that you cannot see?” Cord goaded his stepfather.
“I was blindsided that evening. If you were to show me again, I know this time I would see it.”
“And what makes you so sure?” Cord didn’t have time for this, but Cornelius was devious, and he had learned a long time ago to pay attention to the male, even if he did not enjoy giving him his attention.
“You are angry.” Cornelius nodded thoughtfully. “I know better than to encourage your temper.” He took a step back, as if by doing so, it disengaged him from the conversation.
“Why are you here?” Cord demanded as he looked around him. “I have never known you to call upon the Council Elder.”
