“We cannot go on like this, we are outnumbered,” the Sentinel said bitterly as he was escorted to another bed.
“Where is Marcus?” Lucas asked.
“They needed to put him into a medical sleep,” Jameis answered. “His wolf was fighting them too much. It will be some time before he wakes.”
Lucas cursed in the silence of the room at the news. “And you have sent out a distress call to the other Casts that Northern Headquarters are under attack?”
“Yes, Prime Castor, they are assembling,” one of the healers answered.
“I need them to do more than assemble,” Lucas grumbled. “I need to go back.” He looked over at Michael quickly. “You are well?”
“Better, not well yet, but soon.” Michael glowered at Jameis.
“I have put a paralysis spell on him,” Jameis explained. “He is in danger of trying to fight.”
Lucas huffed his opinion of such a foolish notion before he portalled back to the scene. Cord was fighting, his robes tossed aside. He and the strange Elite Sentinel Tegan were fighting back-to-back, taking on the Drakhyn together. Salem was cutting Drakhyn down like a scythe through wheat, and Sloane was covering his rear. The Lycan were either in Akrhyn form or their wolf form. A Lycan’s bite could paralyse a Drakhyn for a short time, and Lucas noticed there were several wolves weaving through the throng, taking chunks out of the Drakhyn.
As Lucas analysed the scene, he realised the small band of Akrhyn were actually not as disadvantaged as he thought. Whether they were just finely skilled for fighting or they were facing poorly equipped Drakhyn, he did not know.
A surge of power rippled through the air, and a host of fresh Akrhyn appeared. In mere moments, the ones who had been fighting determinedly were falling back as their brethren took their place. The Drakhyn were losing. The Drakhyn were also aware, and more and more began to retreat and run for the trees. It seemed to take no time at all until there were only a few left, and these few were surrounded with no escape.
“I need one alive!” Cord called out over the bloodied snow. His hand was wrapped firmly around Tegan’s wrist, Lucas noted. Was he keeping her from pursuing the Drakhyn?
“Do not kill them all,” Salem echoed his command, nodding at Cord in agreement.
When there were only two Drakhyn remaining, the Sentinels, keeping swords pointed at the Drakhyn, formed an offensive circle. Cord stalked over the ground to get to them, Salem at his side. Lucas watched with curiosity as he saw many others were too. Tegan was not far from the Castor’s side, with Sloane closely behind.
Cord pushed inside the circle to face the Drakhyn. “Who is organising you?” he demanded furiously. “What are you looking for?” Neither of the Drakhyn spoke, and Lucas saw the Crimson Castor’s hand twist. Suddenly one of the Drakhyn screamed in pain. “I do not have to hurt you,” Cord whispered menacingly, “but I will. And I will not lie, it brings me pleasure.”
“Castor,” Tegan reprimanded him softly. “Look at me, Drakhyn. TellhimI am here. Lethimcome to me.”
Lucas was baffled by her words until he saw the Drakhyn’s transformation from snivelling captive to a straight-backed...equal?
“Tiger,” it hissed.
Lucas walked closer. He had seen this once before and had been fascinated then.
“Why?” Tegan asked the Drakhyn coldly.
“Why not?” the Drakhyn answered with a small smile. “You look tired, tiger. You need to rest.”
“Why do you attack? Why were they waiting for you here?” Tegan pressed.
“The female.” The Drakhyn tilted its head as it considered Tegan.
“I am not the female that you seek, you told me yourself,” Tegan snapped at it.
“You’remyfemale,” the Drakhyn replied.
“I will remove your head,” Cord warned.
“This is not my head.” The Drakhyn laughed lowly.
“Tell me.” Tegan took a step closer to the possessed Drakhyn. “Why did they wait for you?”
“I am coming for you, tiger. I am coming for youall. You will not defeat me.” The Drakhyn looked to Cord and snorted dismissively. “Your power will not hold me.”
“You have power?” Cord asked quickly.