“And if he chooses Zahra?” Michael asked, stepping forward, concern for his sister overshadowing everything else.
“He will not,” Salem admitted quietly as he looked over at his son. Michael looked away in resignation, stepping back once again, a frown marring his face.
“What is your purpose?” Council Elder Carnain asked Cord, his gaze switching to the others. “What are you to do? The Storm and your Ravens?”
The Three spoke as one. “The Mark will fight in the coming war, and he will strike our enemy with his blade made by the forger, honed with the stone. With the alpha and father by his side, he will listen to the mentor, and the power of Velvore will rage through him. Bound to the Raven, the Mark will be. The One does not stop. The One does not falter. The blademuststrike true.”
Cord looked to Lucas and Garrick. “That is the translation I have been looking for,” he told them.
“What does that evenmean?” Council Elder Farsin queried as he scratched his jaw, looking around at his fellow Council members.
“It means what it means, and it says what will be,” the Sister Ada spoke firmly.
“Is my father okay?” Tegan pressed, unable to contain her patience any longer. Cord had the Mark of Velvore, and they were in some form of prophecy. Surely now they would tell her about Leonid?
“He fell.”
“No!” Tegan took a step back as her hand covered her mouth. “He has passed?” Her eyes flew to Tove, who had turned ashen at the words.
“He is in Darkness. I fear he has fallen far, child.” The Three turned to look at Cord. “Youmustlift the spell on the Court of the Made. They need you. Only when they are free can he see the light within.”
Cord gripped Tegan’s hand, and she clung to him even as her tears fell. “I need the Texts,” Cord said firmly as he looked to the Great Council.
“They are yours,” Council Elder Alexander told him, ignoring the outraged looks of some of his peers. “My brethren are in peril. I feel their cries.”
“And what will you do with the Texts?” Council Elder Carnain questioned. “You take the Texts and then…what?”
Cord looked at Tegan and raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of her hand softly, his grey eyes sparkling with promise. “Then? We go hunting Drakhyn. Are you ready to hunt, little tiger?”