Leonid nodded in understanding. “I fear my wife and her Court have fallen into that trap for too many centuries. This may actually have been the best thing to happen,” Leonid told Cord with a raised eyebrow.
“Complete annihilation?” Cord said with a wry grin.
“Well, maybe half annihilation,” Leonid joked lightly. He sobered relatively quickly as he looked to the Castor. “You sure this is the way?”
“I am,” Cord said with confidence as he felt his Mark tingle.
“And if he has met his end?” Leonid asked softly. “You will do as we planned?”
Cord tugged off his gloves as he gave the Vampyre a small smile. “I will bring back Council Elder Alexander. I am not slaying my little tiger’s father, no matter how many Made I may save.”
“If you were not bonded to her, would you be as reluctant?”
“If I was not bonded to her, I would like to think I would have the same resolve to keep you alive,” Cord said honestly. He looked to the sky and reflected on his options. “We haven’t freed them yet, keep yourself alive in case I need you,” he said with a wink as he portalled to his father’s house. Not House Ivanov, but the summer house of his actual father.
He had no dealings with his father’s relatives, his paternal grandparents wanted nothing to do with him. Olezka had shunned their beliefs and old ways, being very much an Elite Sentinel who dreamed of a better world. It was his dream that kept him fighting, and it was his idealistic views that had blinded him to the flaws of his wife. When Olezka was killed, Delilah had been cast out of House Lebedev and her infant son with her.
She had fled to the summer house that Olezka liked to spend time in. Ironically, it was not that far from Silver Lake and Leonid’s home. Delilah had stayed there for a few months. It was remote, well cared for and close to Akrhyn if she needed aid. When Cord became more than anabove averageCastor, his father’s family had wanted to know him. However, Cord did not want to know them.
It was at the summer house Cord now stared. The home was no longer well cared for, sitting in ruin and almost derelict. But when Cornelius said Alexander was under the mountain, Cord knew he had lied. No Castor could pass the spell, not even him, and he had an Ancient on his back to aid him. Nothing could get in and nothing could get out. Cord had kept silent and waited for the Great Council to voice their objections to the lie, but no one had uttered a word, which made Cord look at all of them and pay attention.
The Three had watched him watch them, and when they looked at him with expectation, he knew that the Great Council was as corrupted as the man on trial in front of them.
He would deal with them, but first, he needed to get the Made out of that tomb and have them fit and ready to be in the ranks to face the Drakhyn. They didn’t sleep, they didn’t eat—much—and they were the soldiers he needed, that Akrhyn needed. Being careful, Cord advanced on the run-down home.
Slowly, he tested the steps to the front door. The door was new, the lock was refitted recently. Cord sometimes, only sometimes, hated being right all the time. His hand reached out, and he tested for a spell. Nothing. His anger at his stepfather’s arrogance surged through his blood, but he forced himself to remain calm. Cornelius would never be a problem for him or his brother again.
With a simple incantation, Cord opened the lock and pushed the door slowly open. Stepping inside, he cursed savagely. On the floor lay the remains of Council Elder Alexander. He had not gone easily, Cord realised, as he noted the broken nails, the defensive wounds on his hands and arms. As he studied the body, he felt the Mark but ignored it. He had genuinely believed he would have the Council Elder to counter the spell. The Mark tingled again, and he stood abruptly.
“What?” he yelled as he searched the room. “You led me here with hope, but there is no hope here. He has died and not even honourably.”
He was not for you to kill, the voice spoke in his mind.
“Icannotkill Leonid, how do I even start my life with her if I kill my father-in-law? Here’s to a happy wedding day.”
The Mark pulsated, and he knew Velvore was berating him for his flippancy.
“Shade!” Cord shouted out in frustration as he picked up a chair and threw it across the room. He stormed outside, and with fury coursing through him, he set the summer home of his father alight. He watched it burn even as he whispered the words of passing to the fallen Council Elder.
“I do not know where Council Elder Novack is. He has not been seen or heard from in weeks. They believe he too has fallen. What else am I supposed to do?” Cord asked the Ancient in despair. “I have seen the wars, I have seen the destruction, I have seen the Made fighting against the Drakhyn if we are to win.” He crouched down low, his head in his hands as he racked his brain to know what he needed to do. Killing Leonid was not an option. Was it?
Cord stayed in that position for so long he was stiff when he rose. Shaking out his legs, he tried to rationalise the situation. He had come here to take the Council Elder, and then...he hesitated, then he was going to deliver the killing blow, and in doing so, he would free the Made.
Leonid was really the only one left who was not under that stupid hill, he thought ferociously. Cord dipped into his Flare, feeling the euphoria he usually did when he tasted his power. He was a strong Castor, talented, long before he bore the Mark of an Ancient on his skin.
What was it his little tiger had said? He was more than the Mark?He was more than the Mark. He felt the Mark pulse in warning, and Cord ignored it. He portalled back to Leonid, and with one look, he knew Leonid knew that he was the only hope left.
Leonid stood and smiled at the younger male in reassurance. “I can make this sacrifice for my love, for her Court,” he told Cord gently. “I have been gifted more years than I probably deserve.” Leonid looked over the snow. “I regret that I will not see either of them before I go. Tell them both that I love them, always.”
Cord stood mutely as he watched the older Akrhyn take one more look over the snow and the wilderness.
Leonid gave a light laugh. “Actually, I have two regrets,” he said with a wry smile. “I really hate this mountain, and I am severely annoyed that this is where my blood flows its last.” Reaching up, he tied his hair back, containing the soft brown locks neatly at the nape of his neck. “I was no more than a peasant,” he said softly as if to himself before he nodded assertively to Cord. “I have had a full life, do not feel guilt for this act.” He turned his back to Cord. “I would ask that you strike once and true.” Leonid looked up to the sky. “I am ready.”
Cord stood behind the Vampyre and gripped the wood in his hand. While he had been gone, Leonid had sharpened the Mountain Ash to a lethal point, knowing it would need to be sharp to cut the skin as it sliced the throat of the Made it would kill. Cord bowed his head as he stared at the weapon and thought about the spell that he needed to cast. He had everything he needed to free the Made that they would so desperately need in this war.
“Castor, it is cruel to make me wait,” Leonid reprimanded him gently.
Cord lifted his head and took a step forward, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he struck.