“And?” Salem pressed.
“I’m new to this,” Cord muttered. He closed his eyes as he concentrated. “She feels...safe.”
“You can pinpoint her location?” Sloane asked curiously.
“No, I can sense her, but not where she is,” Cord said as he thought about it. He opened his eyes and looked at the three Akrhyn. “It’s too new, I don’t know what any of it means yet,” he admitted.
Council Elder Carnain looked at him. “Can you feel emotion through it?” he asked curiously.
“I think so,” Cord answered stiffly, his barriers coming up again.
“I wonder, if you feel pain, does she feel pain?” Carnain cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “If Elite Sentinel Tegan is joyous, are you joyous?” he mused.
“My brother is rarely joyous,” Sloane mumbled in the hopes to lessen the tension he felt from his brother. “If he is to feel that...I think we will all know.”
Salem grunted out a laugh at Sloane’s attempt at humour, while Carnain merely regarded him coldly.
“I think knowing you are linked will cause you all ease in knowing she’s fine,” Carnain said as he looked at the three of them. “We should proceed as planned. And Mark of Velvore, I advise you to remember your place and don your Castor robes.” Carnain turned from them to leave the room.
Sloane grabbed Cord’s arm to stop his brother’s reply and looked at him with a shake of his head. “It isn’t worth it,” he murmured soothingly. “I’ll get your robes,” he said before he left his brother and Salem in the room.
“You completed the bond?” Salem said into the silence that followed Sloane’s departure.
Cord huffed out a laugh. “Yes.” He met the older Akrhyn’s disapproving look head on. “Although I was advised not to bring it to your attention.” Cord assessed his mate’s father. “Am I in trouble?” he asked lightly, his mockery not lost on either of them.
“No, I knew it was inevitable.” Salem leaned against the desk in the room and crossed his arms as he stared out the window. “I have never witnessed the mate bond in Lycans, but Marcus has. Before his mate and babes were killed, he was very much bonded to his mate.” Salem placed his hands to his side as he used the desk as a perch. “I do not think you can fight it, whether you are the Mark of Velvore or a Lycan,” he added.
“I didn’t realise it was an actual bond,” Cord said as he walked over to the painting behind the desk. It was of a younger Cornelius, standing proud in front of the House Ivanov. A dog was at his feet, but Cord had realised a long time ago that the dog was a poor imitation of a Lycan. His stepfather’s bigotry ran deep. If you studied the painting, you would also see in the shadows the Vampyre with a sword at its neck. He had seen it when he was younger and addressed his stepfather for the reasoning behind it. It was during that conversation that he glimpsed the first true signs that his stepfather was a flawed male. As he gazed at the painting, he murmured the words of a spell and watched as smoke began to rise from the painting. Slowly, the flame caught, and he stood and watched as the painting burned in its frame.
“Oh good, I always hated that thing,” Sloane said from behind him.
Cord turned and smiled at his brother. “You knew what it was?”
“A huge sign screaming oppression of Akrhyn?” Sloane said as he tossed his brother his robes. “Yup.”
“I am sorry you did not get to sit your final Trial,” Cord said seriously. “They would call you Elder, and you would deserve it.”
Sloane flushed at his brother’s praise. “Well, never say never, they haven’t beaten us yet.” He turned to Salem and then with a quick glance back at Cord, he looked at Salem. “Did he tell you about the Mark?” he asked in a low voice.
“Sloane,” Cord said sharply.
“What about it?” Salem asked, straightening in alarm.
“Show him,” Sloane encouraged. “Quick, before any other Council Elder pokes their nose in.”
Cord stared at his brother in exasperation before he turned and lifted his shirt.
“Holy Delfar,” Salem whispered as he gazed upon his back. “It’s more like a…a tapestry than a mark.”
“Wonderful, I have a carpet on my back,” Cord said dryly.
“Shut up,” Sloane muttered as he looked at his back again. “See this?” he asked Salem, pointing to the birds.
“They’re dark blue,” Salem said in wonder. “And here, see the almost golden sheen to this wolf, Marcus.” His finger traced the design on Cord’s back. “And this. Look, a book, the Castors?”
“Yeah, it could be,” Sloane said quietly. “And this, I never noticed this, a fang?”
“A fang? Seriously?” Cord bit out.