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“We had House Akrhyn who were Lycan, we had one Sentinel for thirty years or more who was a Vampyre. Yes, House Ivanov had Lycans and Vampyres in their House,” Cord said as he walked towards the Council Elders. “The point is that, for maybe the last fifteen years, we have had no House Akrhyn that were either Vampyre or Lycan and that the Elite Sentinel Guard has also held neither since the Vampyre...” Cord halted and turned to Sloane. “Where did Elite Sentinel Larack go?”
“He took permanent Reflection,” Sloane said uncomfortably as all the attention swung to him.
“See, he left.” Cord shrugged, he could feel the Mark beginning to tingle. “This interrogation is not about whether we have assorted Akrhyn in House Ivanov, it’s about the fact that a Drakhyn appeared in the Crimson Castors’ hall and asked Cornelius Ivanov to hand over Council Elder Anika!” Cord turned his attention to all of the Council Elders. “Have you even tried to look for her? Have you asked him where he was supposed to take her? Do you even know if she is alive?”
Silence met his questions, and he saw their disapproval shining loud and clear back at him. His eyes flicked to Salem, who was also looking at him with disapproval, but he was relieved to see his brother looked happy he had stopped the monotonous torture that had been the questioning from Warren.
“Sisters?” Cord asked them directly. “Does she still live?”
“She does,” Agatha said as she raised her head. “You disrupt tradition, Mark of Velvore.”
“I do.” Cord nodded in acceptance. “But I cannot stand here and let this show continue. No one is marking anything that is being said, this is not being recorded, and I am certain that Council Elder Marguerite was sleeping.”
The older Akrhyn woman glared at Cord for his insolence but said nothing.
Cord spun on his heel to look at Cornelius. He met the flat stare of disdain and realised his stepfather held him in the same level of contempt as he did him. “Cornelius, why don’t you tell us all what in shade’s name you agreed to and how you have disgraced yourself and your House?”
Cornelius’s eyes flicked over his stepson briefly before he turned his head away.
“The one time I actually want to hear you speak, you turn shy on me,” Cord mocked him as he sat down at the end of the table nearest his stepfather. “Why don’t I talk and you jump in with anything relevant.”
The room was deadly quiet, and just because he could, Cord placed his boots on the table as he leaned back and appraised the traitor to all Akrhyn.
“You hate Lycans and the Made. When we did have Lycan or Vampyre Akrhyn within our House Akrhyn, you used to make them sleep in the stable block at the bottom of our grounds. They were not allowed to eat in the house, and you preferred they worked at night so you didn’t need to see them. You believed they were less.” Cord watched Cornelius’s face redden. “When Sloane was four, five? No, five, he came home with a friend, Okrayn, a male from a human and a Lycan parent. You whipped Sloane that night, ten lashes, for bringing a disgrace into the home. The next week, you sent him to House Holt to be our spy on the Heir and the male you hate.” Cord remembered the night well; it was the first time he faced up to the fact his stepfather was a hateful man. “You have spouted irrational hatred for Leonid Novikov for many years, always saying he stole your sister from you. When it seemed it was only Salem who did that,” Cord said with a turn of his head and a casual wink to the Principal Elder. “You are condescending to those you deem beneath you, you are a manipulative scourge on Akrhyn society, and even though I have truly,trulydespised you for many years”—Cord stood and looked down at Cornelius—“you went and shocked even me when you sided with Drakhyn against us, against Akrhyn. You should be hung, drawn and quartered for your crimes.”
The room was silent as Cord held his stepfather’s glare.
“Are you finished?” Council Elder Warren asked from his corner of the room.
“No,” Cord said flippantly. “But I am done with this male.” The Mark burned hotly, and Cord winced as his hand automatically went to his back.
“He speaks,” the Sisters said as one.
“Who speaks?” Council Elder Warren asked with concern.
“Velvore,” Sloane said as he stood. “Cord?” He took a step forward as Cord bent over the table, one hand holding him up as the other clutched his lower back.
“Cord?” Salem hurried to his side. “Talk to us.”
Cornelius watched with narrowed eyes as he surveyed the room. “You fall for this trickery?” he asked with scorn.
Cord cried out as the Mark burned what felt like his very bones. Council Elder Carnain was beside him, and Sloane watched as even the Three stood, their eyes alight with wonder.
“Sisters?” Sloane asked uncertainly as he edged closer to his brother.
“Watch,” one of them said. Unlike Cord, Sloane could not tell them apart.
Cornelius stood and Sloane had his sword out at his father’s neck before anyone could move. “Do not move,” he told him as he held his arm true and steady. “I agree with my brother, you deserve death for what you have done,” he said coldly.
Cornelius looked at Sloane, and for the first time, his face held emotion. “Son?”
“I am not your son,” Sloane bit out. He pressed the tip of the sword slightly into Cornelius’s neck until he sat back down. When Sloane was sure that he would not and could not move, he looked over to Cord, who was white with pain. “Brother?” he called.
“I’m okay, my favourite Ancient just needed to impart some wisdom,” Cord groaned as he stood.
Salem touched Cord’s hand and looked at him in astonishment. “You are bleeding.”
“I know, that happens when your skin’s being burned,” Cord snorted dismissively. He clutched Salem’s hand as he straightened, keeping his bloodied hand away from others. “I am okay,” he assured the Elder. “Council Elder Warren, it seems I didn’t disrupt your hearing, Velvore was not happy with how you were conducting it,” Cord said as he walked stiffly across the room. “Sisters?”
