“She is remarkable.” Marcus nodded as he wiped his brow. “Ruthless too,” he said with a smile. “I see now why the Castor calls her tiger. Fearless.”
“It may be her downfall.” Salem looked away as the sombreness of the last week was seen in his halls. The marks of death along with the claws on the walls.
“It may be our salvation,” Marcus said with certainty. “I forgot how well Leonid trained me. It took everything not to let my wolf out.”
“That would have been amazing to see,” Salem acknowledged wistfully. “I have not seen your wolf for many years.”
“He is well. He prefers the solitude of night,” Marcus told him, the gruffness evident in his voice.
“I thought with Tove here, you may feel less...confined.”
“Look how that turned out.” Marcus gave his friend a cynical smile.
“She was mistaken, it happens.”
“She went half-cocked into a situation that could have been lethal to those involved,” Marcus growled. “I do not know why she was so easily persuaded. I need to talk to her, I suppose.”
“She is still here?”
“Yes, I told her to stay to the room.” Marcus scratched his jaw. “I should probably go?”
“Where is the fearless warrior that just took on a gifted Elite?” Salem watched him with amusement.
“He is resting. He has had enough feisty females today; he does not need to race to meet another.”
“Coward.” Salem laughed at his old friend.
“Salem Joaquin Holt, you will keep me waiting no longer.”
Both males stopped dead in their tracks as they both held in a groan. Turning as one, they regarded the older Akrhyn with reservation. She was medium height, dark hair albeit more white than dark now, and heavy lines marked her face as a sign of her age. Yet she was regal in her appearance. Her back was straight, her posture impeccable, her clothes flawless. Dark blue eyes took in both males critically, and it was clear from her countenance that she found them lacking.
“Well?” she demanded.
Salem hurried forward to kiss her cheek. “Mother,” he greeted. “What an unexpected surprise.” He steadfastly ignored Marcus’s snort. “What brings you here?”
“Brings mehere? To the Headquarters that Iusedto live in? To the place where you whereborn?” His mother looked at him and the hall in derision. “Why? I have come to see my granddaughter that you thought to keep from me.”
“Tegan?” Salem knew his mouth had opened in surprise. “How do you know about Tegan?”
“Not from you,” his mother told him haughtily. “Zahra, of course. The poor child is beside herself with grief.”
“Grief?” Salem was sure the Principal of the Headquarters was not supposed to open and close his mouth so often in speechless wonder.
“Yes, Salem, grief.” His mother sighed as she fixed the sleeve of her suit jacket. “She turned up on my doorstep, blubbering about a long-lost sister and how you had kept her from her.”
“That’s not what happened,” Salem started to protest.
“Yes, yes, I know that. Your daughter is pretty, which is a blessing, because she is a terrible actress. I saw right through her dramatics. I am, however, eager to meet my granddaughter.” His mother beamed at him. “See what this one is made of. Hopefully more mettle than the other one.”
“You shouldn’t talk like that about Zahra,” Salem said as he looked around the halls, hoping no one else could hear her.
“You coddle her.” His mother started to walk back the way Salem and Marcus came before she stopped in front of Marcus. “No words for me, Lycan?”
“Talia, it has been too long,” Marcus greeted her.
“Your ability to liewellis still disappointing.” Talia Holt walked past the stunned Lycan as she headed straight to the training room. Salem and Marcus were both immobile before they hurried to catch up with her.
“Grandmother!” Michael’s cheer of joy drowned out Sloane’s groan of disappointment.