Into Darkness: The Akrhyn Series (Book 1)

by Eve L Mitchell

  “Which is why he is called mad,” Tegan nodded in understanding.

  “Yes, it desensitises his atrocities though. What’s worse, he has supporters. There are Akrhyn that agree with him,” Sloane shook his head in disgust.

  “Does Cord?”

  “No, my brother abhors our parents as much as I do,” Sloane smiled grimly. “I knew as soon as he showed promise that he could Cast, he would leave to join the Castors.”

  “You actually like him,” Tegan noted with surprise.

  “Cord? Of course, he’s my brother,” Sloane laughed.

  “But you say such horrible things about your parents?” Tegan was confused.

  “My parents are stark raving mad, Cord is a good kind of crazy.”

  “I don’t understand,” Tegan admitted, thinking back to Sloane holding his mother’s hand in the study. “You seemed close with your mother, but you are always arguing with Cord.”

  “If I don’t put on the family show for others, I will be reprimanded and not in a fun ‘go to your room’ kind of way,” Sloane said quietly. “It’s a show, a front. It’s not real.” His eyes were sad as he looked at her as they slowed to a stop. “Everyone here knows it’s fake. I think that is one of the reasons Salem was so determined to ensure that Michael and I get through our differences, I think he felt sorry for me,” Sloane shrugged.

  “I’m sorry,” Tegan repeated as she bit her lip, she didn’t know how to offer comfort. She had no idea this was how it really was. Father had never said, but then, being Leonid, why would he? He would consider this mundane and other family matters were not worth his attention.

  “I’m happy here, Tegan, there is no need to be sorry. Salem did me the favour, Cord advocated for it, wanting me away from our parents just as much as he did.” Sloane grinned his familiar easy smile to her. “This is where I belong.”

  “Which is why you said yes to Zahra,” Tegan guessed.

  “She isn’t so bad, we won’t really hinder each other,” Sloane shrugged it off as he resumed walking.

  “But don’t you deserve love?”

  “Ha! Love is overrated,” Sloane nudged her in jest. “My parents love each other, Salem loved Mikayla but loved your mother too. Nah, I’m good for an arrangement like I have with Zahra, no expectations, no demands.”

  “I think you may have just quoted really bad examples?” Tegan felt obligated to defend the concept of love. “It’s not like that for everyone, I think you may be focusing too much on the minority.”

  “Well, I never would have guessed it,” Sloane appraised her sceptically.

  “What?”

  “That the fierce warrior was a hopeless romantic.”

  “I’m not, I just think you are being too cynical.”

  “Yeah yeah, come on lovergirl, let’s go see about my brother’s magical magic?”

  “I don’t think you should call me lovergirl,” Tegan blushed.

  “It does give the wrong impression, okay… cupid.” Sloane grinned with delight.

  “What’s a cupid?” Tegan enquired as they got to Salem’s study.

  “Are you sure Leonid taught you anything?” Sloane demanded as he pushed the door open without knocking.

  “Do you know what knocking means?” Salem snapped as they walked in. Marcus was in his usual seat in front of him.

  “What’s the fun in that?” Sloane answered as he took the other chair.

  “It’s not fun, it’s called respect,” Salem grumbled at the young male.

  “Sure,” Sloane nodded, ignoring both older male’s frowns. “We need to talk,” he said, his grin fading.

  “About what?” Marcus asked.

  “My brother.”

  Tegan walked around the perimeter with Jasper for the third time, his smile had been widening each time she sighed and now he was just grinning fully.

  “Stop grinning at me,” Tegan muttered.

  “You’re being so dramatic… I can’t help it.”

  “I’m not dramatic,” she retorted with a glare.

  “Okay, you’re pining loudly.”

  “I don’t see why we can’t go on the hunt tomorrow,” she glared into the darkness.

  “Because you just got here, it would be considered favouritism if you got to go on a mission so soon,” Jasper watched her out of the corner of his eye, hoping she bought the practiced lie.

  “Ridiculous,” Tegan muttered for what felt like the thousandth time. “Why don’t we go into the woods, make sure they aren’t out there watching?”

  “Because our orders are to patrol inside the perimeter,” Jasper replied stoically. His response had been the same every time she asked.

  “It makes no sense to be in here,” Tegan bit out.

  “Relax, Sentinel, your superiors know what they are doing.” They walked in silence a few minutes, before Jasper broke the silence. “Your beau returned,” Jasper teased. Tegan immediately thought of Cord and half turned expecting to see his red robes. Jasper hooted with laughter. “You think Kai is going to come out here when you are on patrol?”

  “Kai?” Tegan’s brain stumbled to keep up.

  “You have more than one suitor?” Jasper asked with a gleam in his eye.

  Tegan liked Jasper well enough for a male Akrhyn, he was a good Sentinel, but he had a tendency to know everyone’s business, a gossip, Sloane called him. Which coming from Sloane was almost a hypocrisy, Tegan thought. “I didn’t know who you meant; beau is not a familiar term to me.”

  “Okay, admirer,” Jasper was nonplussed.

  “Kai is not an admirer,” Tegan defended him, feeling guilty but she was confused as to why.

  “Please, Tegan, he is absolutely besotted with you.” Jasper laughed.

  “You’re being cruel, he isn’t here to speak up in his defence.”

  “He wouldn’t dispute it, he is head over heels,” Jasper nudged her conspiratorially.

  “Talk about something else if you must talk,” Tegan rumbled as they walked, her eyes on the treeline.

  “Little tiger.”

  She spun to see that this time Cord was behind her, glancing quickly at Jasper, she was relieved to see he was as surprised to see the Castor as she was. He was without his robes, in black Sentinel gear like them, only his top was hooded where theirs was not and Cord had leather wraps around his upper arms, in which he secured throwing knives. He looked so striking in the dark clothes in the black night, she couldn’t find words to ask why he was here.

  “Why are you here?” Jasper demanded, pulling himself up to his full height, his earlier easy humour gone.

  “I came to speak to Tegan, you may go,” Cord dismissed him.

  “You’re not my superior,” Jasper snarled.

  “Am I not?” Cord’s smile was cold and cruel. “I think we both know I am.”

  “You son of a Drakhyn,” Jasper took an angry step forward, his fists clenched.

  “Jasper, don’t rise to him,” Tegan murmured. Cord’s humourless laugh at her terminology made her grind her teeth.

  Cord handed a slim envelope to Jasper, who snatched it from him and read it quickly.

  “What is it?” Tegan enquired.

  “Nothing, but I need to go,” Jasper grudgingly admitted, turning away from her. He strode past Cord with a glower for the Castor.

  “What was in the letter? And why couldn’t you have given it to him first, without antagonising him?” Tegan said as she shook her head and resumed walking.

  “It was his summons to get ready for the raid,” Cord said easily.

  “We get to go on the raid?” Tegan looked eagerly after Jasper.

  “He does, you do not.”

  “Why?”

  “They haven’t told you?” Cord shook his head in disgust. “No female Akrhyn are to go.”

  “Are you serious?” Tegan demanded. “That’s complete Drakhyn droppings, I am a better fighter than most of these males!”

  “That’s your version of swearing?” Cord laughed lightly, seeing
Tegan’s scowl he shrugged carelessly. “They’re protecting their females.”

  “I can protect myself,” Tegan scowled.

  “Of course you can,” he patted her shoulder.

  “Do not patronise me, Castor, I will gut you with your own lies.”

  “Vicious,” Cord winked at her, “and tell me, little tiger, what have I lied about?”

  “You can’t Cast without powders or aides, no one can.”

  “This again?” Cord looked at her as he shook his head again. “Didn’t we have this conversation?”

  “They say it isn’t possible,” Tegan levelled him with a glare.

  Cord flicked his fingers and a perfectly round fireball appeared in front of them. Tegan took a step backwards in surprise. “Does this look like a lie, little tiger?”

  Tegan bit her lip in consternation as she met his hard stare. She was too confused. Her father, the Elders, Michael and Sloane all said he would need aids, but he stood in front of her, with a fireball, having Cast it with just a thought. Tentatively she reached out and touched it, snatching her hand back when it burned.

  “I would love to know what you thought you were achieving?” His dry humour caused embarrassment to flood her cheeks. “I would have thought the Vampyre especially would have taught you not to play with fire.” The fireball vanished; Tegan squinted as her eyes adjusted once again to the semi darkness.

  “I was checking it wasn’t an illusion.”

  “Parlour tricks?” Cord murmured, his face showing his surprise. “I didn’t realise you thought so little of me, little tiger.”

  “You can do what others cannot,” Tegan answered.

  “So can you,” he answered easily, his hand on her back urging her forward.

  “I don’t know what you mean, and I told you not to call me that,” she frowned ahead as he ignored her and walked in silence.

  “You shouldn’t be able to feel me Cast,” Cord said softly into the night as they walked, he pulled his hood up, shielding his face. “No one should, the only way a spell should be felt is if it is aimed at you. But you can feel me Cast, even when I am not touching you.”

  “I thought everyone could,” Tegan admitted glancing at him once, before turning away, his hood pulled too low for her to see past.

  “No, I have never experienced it before,” Cord admitted.

  “Why don’t you need the powders?” Tegan asked quietly.

  “I told you, little tiger, I’m just that good.”

  She could hear his smirk and stopped herself from hitting him in frustration. “I was being serious,” Tegan said instead.

  “So was I.”

  “You’re so ridiculously arrogant.”

  “Thank you,” Cord dipped his head in acknowledgement.

  “It wasn’t a compliment!”

  “Of course it was.” He stopped suddenly, they were at the closest point to the fencing and furthest from the building. “Do you trust me, little tiger?”

  “Not even a little bit,” Tegan quickly answered, shocked at her own bluntness.

  His low chuckle relieved her awkwardness, Cord held his hand out to her. “Come.”

  Tegan looked at his hand and then the fence line, understanding dawning on her. “It’s against orders,” she whispered looking quickly behind her.

  “Who will know?” The moonlight shone on his face, partly illuminating the daring smirk he wore, his eyes were still shadowed but she knew he was staring intently at her. She could feel the weight of his stare on her.

  “Are you Casting?”

  “Always.” His honesty surprised her. “Come.” Cord took a step forward to the fence line.

  “We shouldn’t…”

  “Oh, but we should.” Cord started scaling the fence.

  Looking furtively behind her one more time and seeing no one there, Tegan started to climb.

  As she climbed, Tegan realised that none of the spells were being activated, she could feel the low tingle on her skin from Cord, meaning he was doing something to interfere with the spells on the fence line. Alarm bells were ringing in her head; if he could do this with the Headquarters security, what did that mean? Was he able to do this anywhere? Is this why they were climbing and not portalling to the other side? Was he merely letting her know that he could? And if he was, why would he share that with her? She was an Elite Guard; it was her job to ensure the fence was secure. Climbing up after him, Tegan found herself frowning at the Castor’s booted feet above her, he was such an enigma to her, she needed to figure him out – and do it fast.

  When they dropped to the other side, Cord held his hand up to stop Tegan from talking. Exasperated that he felt the need to teach her how to hunt, she shoved him slightly as she walked past him. Moving silently through the trees they moved deeper into the woods, Tegan kept her eyes above her, searching out for the darker shadows that would indicate that there was Drakhyn present. She was convinced that they were in the woods, watching the Headquarters. Their behaviour was changing, gathering together to form a united front? What was that? Why were more people not discussing this, instead of a stupid ball? The fact that a Drakhyn had come forward and spoke for the gathered mass had caused deep unease within her. Then they made a demand? It was as if they were expecting to negotiate. Drakhyn didn’t negotiate, they didn’t gather in groups unless they were nested and even then, it was four Drakhyn at most. They became incredibly possessive once a female was taken, it was not unusual for them to kill each other over the rights to claim or share a female for breeding. Everything she knew about Drakhyn, and what all Akrhyns knew about Drakhyn, was being turned on its head – and all these Akrhyn could talk about was an upcoming dance.

  Tegan shook her head in disgust. When she had questioned the nonchalant attitude, Salem had suggested that the seemingly blasé attitude was as a result of the anomaly that the Drakhyn had presented the other night, and Akrhyn expected them to conform to their expected behaviours. He had made it sound like a teaching exercise, like it was she that was overreacting instead of the Akrhyn failing to act. Tegan had commissioned a visiting Castor to send her father a fire message, she had watched the Castor pull numerous powders from her hidden pockets in her white robes. Her distrust at the trick Cord had played on her growing into anger, but then, just now, in front of her, he created a fireball. The Pure Cast had used three different components for something as simple as a fire message and Cord simply wished a fireball into existence by thought. She was so confused at this point she needed some time to process.

  Tegan was happy that she was fulfilling her purpose as an Elite Guard, but being in amongst so many Akrhyn, the constant noise, the seemingly disregard for their safety, the continuous questioning of simple things, like how was her day? These Akrhyn didn’t actually care about her day, so why were they asking? It was simply exhausting. She found that she was taking longer Reflection and just relishing the silence. Tegan pulled up slowly, holding her hand up to Cord, signalling that he stop. He didn’t of course, he moved up behind her, so close he was touching her. Why was he always touching her? He made her uncomfortable, her skin tacky, her heart beat faster when he was this close. He was in danger of making her look like an unskilled novice and he hadn’t even done anything! Was this the curse? This bond, they said she had with him. Tegan didn’t need or want a bond; she didn’t want or need Cord Ivanov.

  “What do you sense?” his voice was barely a whisper in her ear, the shudder that ran through her at his breath at her ear mortified her.

  “Three trees to the north west, do you see the depth of shadow?” Tegan moved her head as Cord bent to hear her, her voice so low, it was a mere whisper of the wind. Cord’s head moved to the direction she said, his slight nod confirmation he saw it too. “You’ll follow my lead.” Tegan said with perhaps more force than necessary. She turned from him swiftly, knowing without seeing that he was grinning that mocking grin at her, the one that made her want to physically harm him.

  Slipping into a running crouch,
Tegan advanced quickly through the trees in the direction of the suspected Drakhyn. Blinding white light suddenly illuminated the woods, stumbling at the sudden assault to her senses, her eyes took too long to adjust to the brightness. By the time she had adjusted, Cord was holding a Drakhyn by the throat. Looking up, she saw a pure white glowing orb, giving off more light than the fullest moon on a starless night.

  “What in the name of the Ancients are you doing?”

  “We’ve caught this vermin, let’s take it back now,” Cord held the Drakhyn effortlessly as Tegan looked around the lit area expecting more Drakhyn to appear and attack. “Take my arm, I’ll portal us.”

  “Arflyn’s grace, you are going to get us both punished for this,” she hissed at him as she took his arm, which in itself was a feat. Cord may have held the Drakhyn, but it’s swinging talons were desperate to find purchase with either of their flesh.

  “You should secure its arms,” Cord scowled at her, the reprimand evident in his tone.

  Was he criticising her? “You caught it, you bind it.”

  “Don’t sulk, little tiger, it doesn’t suit you,” his mocking smile had her turning her head away before she forgot he was holding a Drakhyn and she stabbed him.

  “Tiger,” the Drakhyn hissed, its form calming completely as its wide black eyes focused on her. “Tiger,” it hissed again, a smile on its face.

  “Do not speak to her,” Cord muttered an incantation and the Drakhyn’s arms wrenched painfully behind it’s back, a howl of pain echoed through the night. Snatching Tegan to his side, Cord portalled them all to the grounds of Headquarters. “The wards won’t allow this into the building, fetch the Principal.”

  Tegan was so sorely tempted to tell him where to shove it, she had heard Sloane say this earlier in the week and had been puzzled at the phraseology. Now she understood the sentiment exactly.

  “Tegan, if you could actually hurry?” Cord’s grey eyes rolled in exasperation.

  Running footsteps drew both of their attention, Marcus reached them first, his fury evident at them both. Salem and most of the Elite Guard weren’t far behind.