“What is?”
“It’s not your instinct, Tegan, it is the bond telling you that your mate is innocent in these crimes.”
“Oh.” Tegan tugged on her braid. “Is it to be trusted?”
Bryce considered her carefully. She was sonewto this part of Akrhyn life; Leonid had done her no favours by keeping her secluded. “I have never had a bond, but I love my wife very much. Iknowher as well as I know myself. My knowledge of her and the time we have spent together means I would know what she is and what she is not capable of.” He struggled to sit up more. “You do not have that knowledge of the Castor, the bond has replaced the years it takes to know someone like that, and I am not sure if it is a benefit. You have blind faith in him when he is nothing more than a stranger to you. I cannot give you any answers, I do not think.”
Tegan tugged on her braid again. “You are wrong on one thing.”
“I am, tell me?” Bryce smiled at her encouragingly.
“I feel like I have known him my whole life,” Tegan whispered. “How can that be?” She looked at Bryce with wide eyes.
“The bond,” he said simply. “You have a connection, but you do notknowhim; that takes time.”
Tegan drew her sword as they both stilled on hearing a noise. Time may not be something she had.Crouching into a fighting stance, she waited for the door to open.
* * *
Cord stood outside the pantry door and listened, his eyes continually searching the corridor for Drakhyn. He could sensesomethingbehind the door, but what, he knew not. The Flare burned brightly within him, and he knew he was strong. He concentrated on the room beyond one more time. There was definitely life, but was it friend or foe? He had never been in this room and therefore could not portal into it. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he glared once more at the door.
The Flare sparked higher within him, and Cord froze as he felt the nectar of his power flow through him. The euphoria of feeling the Flare coursing through his veins was enough to make him lightheaded. Briefly his eyes closed, and as they did, he could see within the room.
Michael and Marcus were both bound and gagged. Marcus looked to be unconscious, and Michael had blood dripping down the side of his face. An unconscious alpha, that explained why the Lycans were not on the grounds. They didn’t know he was here.
Three Drakhyn stood over the Akrhyn, and Michael received another blow from one of the Drakhyn. “I told you to tell me where she is!” the Drakhyn snarled.
Michael remained upright but was swaying dangerously. Cord could see his eyes were half closed, and he could only imagine what the Drakhyn had done to him since the attack. Cord looked around the room quickly with his added ability, and then securing the room in his mind’s eye, he portalled into the room.
He took out the first Drakhyn with the surprise of his attack, the dismembered head rolling across the room. The other two turned to him, momentarily stunned, but their astonishment lasted only that, a moment, before they were attacking. Their talons swiped at Cord, and Cord dodged, his knives in his hands blocking their attacks. Kicking out, he managed to take one of them down but could not follow through on the offence as he was fully engaged with the other.
The pantry was not large, and manoeuvring was restricted, but Cord was an exceptional fighter. Had he failed his Castor Trials, he would easily be an Elite Sentinel. Soon the second Drakhyn head lay at his feet. He looked up and hesitated. The third Drakhyn rested a talon across Michael’s throat, and his other hand was tangled in the younger Akrhyn’s hair, holding his head up. Michael could hardly keep his eyes open, and he was struggling to breathe at the angle the Drakhyn held his head back at.
“I will slice his throat, Castor.”
“You do that.” Cord shrugged. “And before he even bleeds out, I will have your head at my feet like your friends here.”
“You do not care if I kill him?” The Drakhyn genuinely looked confused as its talon pressed further into Michael’s throat, drawing blood.
“He is one of many.” Cord shrugged again. “Chances are I can heal him.”
“Chances?” The Drakhyn seemed to be seriously puzzled, and Cord was keen to capitalise on it when suddenly, he saw the demeanour of the Drakhyn change in front of him. It stood taller, its eyes became more focused, and a small smirk played on its mouth.
“Bold words for one so young,” the Drakhyn said. Its talon pushed into Michael’s throat more.
“You?” Cord tried not to gape. He had killed this Drakhyn, or he thought he had. When it came for Tegan that afternoon, he had slit its throat and removed its head.
“You seem surprised, Castor.” The Drakhyn smiled, its sharp teeth on display.
“Not surprised.” Cord tried to shrug it off. “Just fed up killing your puppets; when do I get to killyou?”
“Where is she?”
“I do not know what you mean.” Cord ignored the dangerous Drakhyn.
“Your tiger, where is she?”
“Do not call her that,” he snapped. The Drakhyn was unnerving him, and Cord was very conscious of the blood flowing steadily down Michael’s throat onto his chest.