“This mountain is impossible to defend,” Leonid bit out. “It always has been. It is the worst tactical point in the whole of this frozen wasteland.” His goblet flew through the air as he flung it away from him. “Who sanctioned this madness? When you suggested it to your advisors...what fools agreed?”
“All of them.”
“Idiots.” Leonid headed to the chamber door. “I will take over the army. Get me a Castor, I need to know my daughter is safe.” Leonid hesitated at the doorway.
“I may have imagined it,” Kateryna said weakly.
“You may have imagined war was coming? The only thing you imagined was that it was not yet here. The warishere. We are already fighting it. If Drakhyn are attacking Akrhyn Headquarters, this war has already started.” Leonid’s hand tightened on the doorknob as he looked at his wife with anger and pity. “Look to your advisors, my love. Your Court has been compromised, and your arrogance has led many of yoursubjectsto their death.”
Leonid stormed out of the room, leaving his wife crestfallen behind him. He prayed he had enough time to prepare the Sentinels for the attack. The rest of the Court would be useless. As he stalked angrily up the opulent halls of the Vampyre Court, he prayed once more to the Ancients that they were keeping his daughter safe.
Sloane sat on a bench outside, watching the snow fall gently, covering the footprints and the tracks on the ground. Under the snow lay the marks of the death and destruction caused by the Drakhyn attack of several days ago. Maybe it was more than a week now, two weeks? He had lost count. The days seemed to merge into one, and he had felt control slip from his fingers a long time ago.
He blamed Cord. He instantly grinned to himself—he didnotblame his brother. He knew how others viewed his brother. Many did not hide their disdain of the Crimson Castor. Sloane had noted over the years that these same Akrhyn made sure not to be too brave when Cord was in front of them. On the other hand, his brother did not discriminate, having the same level of disregard for everyone. He had told Sloane once that he hated everyone equally. It had been followed with a wink and sly smile. Sloane smiled in remembrance despite the chill of the afternoon.
He wished more Akrhyn knew his brother like he did. Not as the child or the adolescent but theactualmale his brother was. He was opinionated? Yes. Arrogant? Undoubtedly. But what so many failed to recognise was that his brother was loyal, fiercely loyal. More importantly, what no one else saw, because Cord hid it so well, was that he was kind. Sloane remembered well the nights that Cord was exhausted from his own training in preparation for his Trials, but he still visited Sloane every night, and they spent an hour, sometimes two, training together. Cord teaching his little brother to be better, to reach those heights others said Sloane could not meet.
Pulling the hood of his training coat over his head to cover his ears, Sloane looked out over the back of the grounds and into the snow-covered trees. He watched a winter hare dart through the forest floor, and moments later he saw the wolf carefully ease out between the trees. Too large to be natural, Sloane looked away from the Lycan hunting a light snack. He heard the faint scuffle, and when he looked back, the Lycan was gone and of the hare, only spilled blood remained.
Sloane cast his eyes upwards to the heavy cloud cover promising more snow for the Canadian winter. He couldn’t deny he was cold, and his head was telling him he could sit inside in the warmth and contemplate his choices just as easily. But in the Headquarters, someone would find him. Where Cord was quiet and preferred his own company, Sloane was well known for his extroverted and friendly nature.
He sighed again, watching his breath freeze in the air. Maybe he should have gloves on, he mused. His mind wandered back to his brother. What exactly did “I’ll fix it” mean? With Cord, you never knew if he was going to speak on your behalf or decapitate the offender. Sloane frowned. He wasn’t exactly sure he could rule out his brother committing harm to Zahra. He huffed out a laugh. The two of them hated each other, they always had. When Cornelius had proposed the betrothal, Cord had been nearly apoplectic with fury when Sloane accepted.
He argued that they were the worst pairing in Akrhyn history. Sloane recalled joking that his brother was being dramatic and Cord throwing a knife at him, narrowly missing slicing off his ear. Zahra was selfish, Sloane knew this. They had grown up together. Zahra was self-centred. Again, Sloane knew that. Zahra was not in any way interested in training, and Sloane had always thought perhaps she was resigned to being a house Akrhyn. Many of the female Akrhyn, if they married well, were content to raise families and maintain the House. Especially a Holt. Talia Holt had never seen a day’s combat in her life. She had married into a House where she knew her husband would be the next Principal Elder, and immediately started a family.
It was perhaps what humans would call old-fashioned, but the Akrhyn way of life could be filled with violence. Long lives were not common with most Akrhyn dying in combat. It was quite depressing when Sloane thought about it. You were born, you trained, you fought, you died.
Maybe Zahra had been on to something when she asked to live with the humans. Humans were…odd. Sloane couldn’t think of a better term for them. They seemed so hell-bent on owning things, on possessing more than they needed, that life passed most of them by. He had fought the urge many times to grab one and show them a Lycan, a Vampyre, shade but show them aDrakhyn. Show them what they were being protected against. Show them who protected them in the night. He rubbed his head absently. By the shade, these days they were being protected in the daylight too.
Patrols were more far spread, more numbers and longer shifts. He knew his own teenage years were being taken from him as he trained diligently to protect those who could not protect themselves. Humans had weapons, terrible weapons that may have been advantageous to the fight against the Drakhyn. However, humans and Cornelius shared a common thread. They both feared what was different. Who was to say those weapons wouldn’t be used against those who defended and died for them?
Cornelius despised Lycans and Vampyres, claiming they were mutated. Sloane hit his head lightly off the wall he leaned against.Mutated. At times, he envied Cord’s parentage. Cord could easily wash his hands of sharing blood with Cornelius, but Sloane was not so lucky. His father was prejudiced, narrow-minded and, in Sloane’s eyes, dangerous because of it.
Sloane was not a fool; he knew why his father suggested a match with Zahra. Michael was Heir. Well, he had been the undisputed Heir at the time, and it was probable that he would be Principal Elder of the Northern Territory like his father before him. If Michael was Heir, there was little doubt in Sloane’s mind that he would be named his Second. Answerable only to his Principal and the Great Council. It was a powerful position. By marrying Zahra, it ensured that perhaps their child would be named Heir.
Tegan complicated this slightly. However, if she was Heir, then either way, Cornelius had an Ivanov in the running for Principal Elder. It was rare that a ruling Principal Elder lost his seat, as the title was usually handed down to their children. There were rare occurrences where an Heir of another House would be considered if they were deemed a better fit. Again, Cornelius covered his bases when he named Cord Heir of the Ivanov House and name.
Cornelius knew the time for him to be Principal was past, so he had begun to take the steps to ensure his child or his grandchild would bear the honour. Cornelius had his eye on a seat at the Great Council. Sloane smirked as he thought of his father and his naked ambition. He had to hand it to him, he was blatant in his desires because he was so confident that he would achieve his dreams.
But now Zahra had been attacked by Drakhyn. Sloane had not looked at her fallen form when Cord brought her back from the pit she had been held in. His brother had ordered him out, and he had grabbed Tegan and left. But he had not been able to stop the glance towards her. He had seen battered bloody legs, and he had heard one of the Pure Castors mention she had lost the babe. Zahra had been pregnant. With a human’s child. She had told her brother that she thought she was with child but had then said she was not. Too scared of the truth probably.
Still, lying was risky when the truth of her condition would very much be visible in a few months’ time. Sloane was not a cruel male. The loss she had suffered and the hell she must have endured at the hands of the Drakhyn made his heart heavy for her. He would wish that on no one. Yet he couldn’t help feel bitter towards her.
They had been betrothed for two years. Since he was sixteen. Sloane was not unknown to his fellow female Akrhyn. Before their betrothal, he had had relationships with numerous females. He was young. An Akrhyn life was a dangerous one, and you had to live while you could. When he accepted Zahra as his betrothed, he had stopped. He made a promise to someone, and despite his age, despite the opportunities, and more importantly despite Zahra’s complete lack of respect for him, he had never strayed from his promise.
Everyone,everyone, knew Zahra flirted. She teased, and she was freer with her interpretation of the betrothal vows. However, Sloane was still slightly stunned when they had found her in that closet at her human school. Was it that human she had been with that she had lain with? Sloane hung his head as he thought about it. Maybe she truly cared for the human, and perhaps she would have sought for the betrothal to be dissolved. It was possible. It would be difficult as there were so many other factors to consider, but he would have rather endured that than known she had such utter disregard for him, for Akrhyn and their beliefs. Sloane had defended her honour and his own morals many times over the years they had been betrothed. His peers made snide comments about his wife-to-be, how “easy” she was, and now he felt like a fool because it seemed they had been right.
He rolled his head on his shoulders as he realised that sitting here feeling sorry for himself was not making the situation better nor making him better. His father would be coming, he knew it, and he wanted to talk to Zahra before Cornelius crashed into their lives. Sloane was in a difficult position though. How did he demand she talk to him? After all she had endured. He had not been told, nor had he asked, if the Drakhyn had been physical with her. He snorted at his weakness. He couldn’t eventhinkit, never mind say it. And if he couldn’tsaythe words, how could he expect her to talk about it?
“You’ll freeze.”
Sloane jumped as he looked up at Kallie. “You startled me,” he admitted as he watched the female Akrhyn walk cautiously forward.
“Can I sit? Or are you at the very back of the building because you truly do not want to be disturbed?” Kallie looked around before looking back to him with a small smile.
“You should cover your head,” Sloane said absently. “Your head will catch a chill.” Sloane gestured to her uncovered hair which lay loose around her shoulders.
“Just my head?” Kallie teased lightly as she sat beside him. Sloane smiled at her attempt to lighten his mood. “You look sad, Sentinel.”