She wasn’t sure if he subconsciously knew she had sought to bar him from the room and therefore spoke more to punish her or if he were just so eager to know her. She thought it was the latter, Sloane loved her and wanted to know all about her. Tegan just didn’t feel he needed to knoweverythingnor all at once.
Her father, Leonid, was not an advocate ofchatteras he would have called it. Having been alone with her father for so long, Tegan was more than comfortable with companionable silence, and some days—like today—she wished her cousin could learn to be comfortable with it too.
“I have to go help Michael with this evening’s Human Studies class, do you want to come?” Sloane asked as he walked into her room.
He was leaving? Had the Ancients been listening?
“No, thank you. I, um…” She faltered as she looked around her spotless room, trying to think of a reason why she wouldn’t accompany him. “I’m going to shower.”
“I can wait,” Sloane offered as he leaned against the door.
“I wanted a long one,” Tegan countered lamely, dipping her head so her cousin wouldn’t see the lie in her eyes. She knew her excuse was flimsy and Sloane was no fool, he could read her easily.
“You miss him?”
“Who?” Tegan asked as she looked at him in bewilderment. “Father? Of course.”
Sloane gave a slight shake of his head. “No, the other one.”
“You mean your brother,” Tegan said brusquely as she stood abruptly. “No.”
“You don’t worry for him?” Sloane folded his arms across his chest as he tilted his head to the side, his golden hair catching the light.
“I have concern for his well-being, but I have concern for them all.” Tegan smoothed her bedcovers as she fought her emotions. “If anything, I am more concerned for his travelling companions than I am for your brother.”
Sloane laughed easily, no slight taken at her bluntness. “He can be infuriating, and now he is Marked—I pity his companions also, his ego will be intolerable,” he said with fondness.
“He was already intolerable,” Tegan muttered as she thought dark thoughts of the Castor to whom she was bonded.
“You know he was right to insist you stay here, for now.”
Tegan huffed her reply as she started to unlace her boots. Suddenly a shower didn’t sound so bad. “He does not get to make my choices for me, he needs to remember that.”
“Well, when he returns, you can remind him that you are boss,” Sloane said with a grin. “Okay, I’ll be in the teaching rooms, come find me for dinner.”
After she assured him she would, Tegan gratefully closed and locked both her bedroom door and the interconnecting door. Loosening her shirt from her combat trousers, she pulled it off before she lay down on her bed. She had about an hour before the evening meal would be served, she could shower after she enjoyed some quiet.
Closing her eyes, her thoughts went to the Castor. He was already arrogant, she thought to herself; having been Marked by the Ancients would make him worse. However, she couldn’t help consider that he was probably the most likely recipient for the honour. His power was impressive, his combat skills equally so. He said he had received the beginnings of the Mark of Velvore seven months ago, and she knew there were some that whispered that the Mark was the reason he excelled at so many things. Tegan wanted to remind those whisperers that Cord Ivanov had been an arrogant son of a Drakhyn for far longer than seven months. His air of superiority was long practiced, not something you developed in seven months.
Even though she only met him recently, she felt as if sheknewhim. It was as if her soul recognised him, and with that acknowledgement, Tegan’s awareness of the Castor was more than a few months of actually being in his presence. She recognised him and who he was. He was more than the Mark. The Mark of Velvore did not make Cordmore, it merely enhanced what was already there. Unbearable at times as he may be, he was worthy to bear the honour that had been bestowed on him.
Tegan smiled in the quiet of the room at her thoughts. They were hardly complimentary to the Castor, but still, they were favourable. A lot about the Castor, Tegan felt, was favourable, and although it made her uncomfortable to admit, she was keen to explore their bond more.
“You look peaceful.” His voice interrupted her musings, and Tegan’s eyes flew open in disbelief as she looked up at the very object of her thoughts.
“How?” Tegan looked around her room wildly as she sat up on the bed. “How are you here? Did you find father? Is he here?” Jumping off the bed, she eagerly reached for her boots.
“I have not,” Cord answered her slowly. Tegan straightened as she looked at him and saw his eyes flick away from her, and then with a rueful sigh, he sat down at her dressing table. “I sawmystepfather, and he…” Cord hesitated. What had Cornelius actually done? Nothing. Had Cord merely overreacted?
“He what?” Tegan asked as she stood and stared at him in confusion. “You look…unsure.”
“I feel unsure,” Cord grunted. He ran his eyes over her, her bra was black and plain, her stomach flat and toned. Her combat trousers were unbuttoned, the zip half down, showing a sliver of her black underwear. “You could be wearing more clothes,” he murmured.
Tegan glanced down at herself and felt herself redden with embarrassment. “Well, Iwasalone,” she snapped as she reached for her shirt.
Cord rose fluidly, pulling the shirt from her reach. Tegan took a step towards him hesitantly as he tossed her shirt carelessly behind him, his attention on her body. “I said youcouldbe wearing more clothes, I didn’t say youshouldbe,” he spoke quietly as he gazed upon hismate. He realised as he thought it that he had truly accepted it, acceptedher. The bond was strong, and he knew he no longer wanted to resist it or break it. As he stood looking at her, taking in her beauty and her vulnerability, his conscience warned him he was too dark for this female.
“You shouldn’t be looking.” Tegan turned from him, not entirely comfortable with his attention, but not so uncomfortable that she couldn’t deny she didn’t like it. “Why aren’t you at the Vampyre Court?”