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Tegan swallowed as her body screamed in pain. “I do not yield,” she spat out.
“We do not care.” The Drakhyn smiled again as it advanced. “Kill the others.”
Tegan turned quickly to Michael and grabbed his last dagger, and she threw it with precision. Despite her bloody hand, despite her other arm showing bone, she watched the leader fall from her throw. “We do not yield,” she yelled as the remaining injured Elite attacked for the last time, and Tegan screamed in her head the name of the one who may still save her brethren.
Cord!
Marcus opened his eyes and took in the bright stark white walls and the sterile smell, and knew he was in a medical wing. He heard the shallow breaths beside him and turned his head. With bandages wrapped around his head and his legs bound in splints, Elrick slumbered beside him.
Marcus closed his eyes in relief, he was alive. The door opened softly, and he smelled the soft fragrance of fresh cut grass and peonies. Tove.
“Hey,” she greeted him as she sat down beside his bed. “How are you feeling?”
“I almost had it,” Marcus said hoarsely. Tove jumped up and got him some water and helped him drink. “How many?”
“We lost seven of the hunting party,” Tove said quietly. “But we defeated them, I think.” She stared across to Elrick’s bed. “He was in bad shape. His left eye is gone—the Pure Castors could not restore his sight. Both his hind legs were broken. He has needed a lot of work.”
“He managed to shift?” Marcus asked in surprise as he looked over at the quiet form.
“No, you did that,” Tove said as she looked at him with wonder.
“I’ve been unconscious,” Marcus said quietly.
“You still did it.” Tove reached over for his hand. “You must have felt his pain,” she murmured.
“Misty?”
“With the pack, she had twins.” Tove smiled at him. “Nyla had a male, beta.”
“Taras will be happy.” Marcus looked back over at Elrick. “Male or female twins?”
“Two males, one is an alpha,” Tove said as she watched Marcus.
“Good,” he said quietly. “An heir to Toma. Elrick was always meant to be more than a beta.”
“I agree.”
Marcus looked back at her. “What is it?” he sighed. “Or should I say, whatelseis it?”
“Tegan and Michael were attacked. They were both seriously wounded.” Tove watched him for his reaction.
“But they did not fall?” Marcus asked.
“No, Tegan called for Cord, and well, I’m a little sketchy on the details, but the Castor got to her in time.”
“Delfar’s blessing.” Marcus closed his eyes before he struggled to sit up.
“You can’t get up yet,” Tove told him in alarm as he swung his legs over the bed.
“I refused to help them. Is this my fault?”
“It really isn’t,” Tove said as she rushed forward to catch his arm. “Salem and the Great Council know what we fought, what we prevented from reaching any further south. They know we stopped the packs and the Drakhyn.”
Marcus leaned over as a wave of light-headedness washed over him. “We held back a wave, we haven’t stopped the tide. Not yet.” He reached for his clothes, which he saw folded on a chair. Quickly, he pulled on his pants and then a thick thermal shirt. He made his way over to Elrick’s bedside, looking down at the injured Lycan. Marcus felt his anger boil.
You will heal, my friend, he thought through the link. He could feel Elrick’s presence slumbering, healing.You have twins, heal.
Elrick’s wolf flickered, and Marcus saw it raise its head. The eye was already healed over, the scar jagged but sealed. The wolf dipped its head in acknowledgement to the alpha and then lay back down, waiting for the Akrhyn to heal.
