Into Darkness: The Akrhyn Series (Book 1)

by Eve L Mitchell

  “Vampyre, I suggest you take your hand off of the Heir,” Marcus’s voice was almost indistinguishable with hate as he half crouched in the seat waiting to pounce.

  “Vampyre? Seriously?” The male at the end of Tegan’s blade said looking at Leonid with interest. “That’s how you got in?” He relaxed his stance and stood back, seemingly at ease. “You still should have your hood down, Vamp,” he added as he took another step back, gesturing to his friend that he was okay. Michael also relaxed slightly knowing his friend was out of the way of the blade, resuming his place beside his father.

  “My daughter got us in,” Leonid turned to look at the male behind him. “And she is no Vampyre.” All of the attention was now on Tegan. “Daughter, this is not the way I wanted this to be done.” Her father looked at her apologetically. “Close the door.” Tegan turned and closed the door as instructed but she hesitated before turning back to the room. A room where she still remained the focus of everyone’s attention. “Take down your hood.”

  Tegan looked at her father for a moment, before she reached up and drew back the hood. Her attention was on Salem and his son who both wore identical looks of astonishment. Her eyes darted to Marcus once, who was looking at her with his mouth open.

  “By the Ancient, you look exactly like them.” The large male who had been under her dagger stated.

  “Sloane! Language,” Salem snapped. He had risen from his seat when Tegan had taken down her hood and only now seemed to realise it, he resumed sitting before looking at Tegan again. “Leonid, explain this trick.”

  “It is no trick, I assure you,” her father held his right hand out and Tegan went to his side.

  “How does she look like that?” Michael demanded, his stare was so fierce, Tegan was glad he wasn’t a Castor.

  “Born this way, taken after her mother, but more predominately, her father.” It was Leonid’s turn to stare hard at Salem now.

  “Celeste?” Salem’s question was no more than a broken whisper.

  “Indeed,” Leonid did not soften his voice despite the obvious agony of the male across from him.

  “Who’s Celeste?” Michael demanded.

  “Aunt Celeste?” The blond male asked. He walked up to Tegan and she tensed at his approach. “Oh the Ancients, I see it now.”

  “Sloane. Again, with the language. The Ancients are not to be used for your swearing purposes.” Salem reprimanded the large male, who winked at Tegan before he turned to his Principal Elder.

  “Sorry,” Sloane’s apology did not sound remorseful Tegan thought as she returned her attention back to the two men behind the desk.

  Leonid turned to look at Sloane fully. “I did not realise Cornelius’s son was here. How is your father? Still stark raving mad?” Cornelius was her mother’s brother, Tegan’s eyes ran over the male, this was her cousin? She assessed him with interest, he looked capable and well built.

  “He has better days than others,” Sloane answered easily. “Don’t we all?”

  “I find that even on my worst days, I don’t wreak savage warfare on innocents,” Leonid regarded Sloane coolly, before dismissing him as he turned back to Salem.

  “You just slaughter villages when you’re hungry instead,” Marcus muttered in the chair beside him.

  “Once,” Leonid nodded. “Three hundred years ago. I will never be absolved of my actions that day and I won’t be until the Ancients decree it to be so, but it is a mistake from hunger that I have never made again.” Leonid turned cold eyes to Marcus. “Can you say the same Lycan?”

  Marcus turned his head away, his face flushing from anger or embarrassment, Tegan wasn’t sure.

  “Enough,” Salem instructed. “Tell me how you have a child of Celeste’s? I don’t believe there is no trick here.”

  “Do you wish your son and Cornelius’s son to remain in the room?” Leonid asked. Tegan noted that both males in question straightened and looked determined not to move.

  “What you have to say to me, can be said in front of my son,” Salem answered coldly.

  “So, he knows about your affair with Celeste when you were betrothed to his mother?” Leonid’s retort was just as cold. Tegan noted from the way Salem flinched and the look on his son’s face, that perhaps his son did not know. “Well, he does now,” Leonid murmured as Salem turned to Michael.

  “I will explain later,” Salem addressed both of the males who were looking at each other with uncertainty.

  “It’s easier to explain it now,” Leonid’s smile was still cold as he appraised Salem. “Your father was betrothed to Mikayla as babes. Your grandfather was a heretic and a lunatic.” Salem glared at Leonid, but Leonid was unperturbed and carried on. “But although he did not believe in the Ancients…”

  “He believed,” Salem snapped. “He sacrificed to all five of the Ancients before he died.”

  “Yes, the fear of death and the unknown is the result of many a religious conversion,” Leonid answered glibly. “Can I continue?”

  “My son does not need a history lesson on his grandfather.” Salem’s angry voice echoed in the room. “This does not tell me why she is here.”

  “I thought that was obvious,” Leonid looked at Salem and then turned to Marcus, who had remained quiet throughout. “The Lycan knows.”

  “Knows what?” Michael asked, taking a step forward. “I don’t understand anything that is happening right now.”

  “She’s your daughter Salem,” Marcus said with a sigh. “The resemblance to you is staggering. You look at her and see Celeste, I look at her and see you.”

  Salem sat back in his chair; eyes wide as he looked at Tegan. “How?”

  “Well, I don’t think I need to explain those details.” Leonid turned to look at Tegan. “After all, there are ladies present.”

  Suddenly Salem jumped to his feet and leaped across the desk, his hand tight around Leonid’s throat, he squeezed. “I asked how. How do you have my daughter?”

  Tegan’s blade was at Salem’s throat before anyone could stop her. Salem looked at her as he slowly withdrew his hand from Leonid’s throat. He arched an eyebrow at her as if to say, ‘I moved, so should you.’

  “Daughter,” Leonid instructed softly. Tegan quickly withdrew the dagger and stepped back. “As a Principal Elder, I would have thought you would remember that Vampyres do not need to breathe,” Leonid’s eyes flashed with anger as he regarded Salem.

  “I know,” Salem ran a hand over his hair. “I wasn’t thinking.” He looked at Tegan who looked back at him impassively. “That was impressive.”

  “She is highly trained,” Leonid cast a quick smile to his daughter and Tegan, not expecting the open praise from her father, flushed.

  “What’s your name?” Salem asked her, his tone softer than he had used with Leonid. Tegan’s eyes flicked to her father.

  “Her name is Tegan,” Leonid supplied. “Will you allow me to tell the tale or not Salem? I grow impatient at your insolence.”

  “Insolence?” Michael demanded. “You break into our Headquarters; you drop this bombshell on my dad and then you expect us to sit here and listen to your preposterous story.” Michael took a step forward, anger making him clench his fists.

  “Stand down Michael,” Marcus sighed heavily. “The resemblance to your father and her mother are… remarkable. I do not doubt the Vampyre’s claim.”

  “Blood tells family,” Michael snapped. “I say she bleeds.”

  Tegan tilted her head slightly as she appraised him and then with a small smile, looked straight ahead again.

  “Her name is Tegan,” Leonid repeated firmly, “and whether you like it or not child, she is your blood.” Leonid stood. “This is fruitless. We shall retire for the evening; we have travelled far to get here.”

  Salem looked alarmed at the thought of them leaving without answers.

  “You made her travel on foot?” Marcus enquired as he watched Leonid intently.

  “From Jasper,” Leonid confirmed as he stared back at hi
s former student.

  Marcus snorted as he shook his head. “Always a training lesson isn’t it, Leonid? Is this a training lesson too? She,” he hesitated as he looked at Tegan. “Sorry, Tegan, hasn’t moved other than to defend you, even when you were in no danger. Yet you call her daughter.”

  “I raised her,” Leonid looked over at Tegan with warmth in his eyes. “It is like she is my own.”

  “But she is not your own, Vampyre. She is mine.” Salem’s eyes burned with anger.

  “I am no-ones,” Tegan spoke quietly. All eyes turned to her and she did not falter under the intensity of the stares. “I am not a slave, I am not a servant. I belong to no-one. I am not a possession.” She took a step forward and placed her hand on Leonid’s shoulder, her father’s hand reached up and rested on top of hers. “I am Leonid Novikov’s daughter. He raised me after the Drakyhn killed my mother.” Tegan’s eyes flashed to Salem. “You knew nothing of me until tonight, do not presume to claim me, Principal Elder.”

  Salem watched her quietly and then he smiled at her, “You sound so much like Celeste.” He bowed his head in acceptance. “Forgive my presumption, Tegan.” Tegan regarded him for a moment and then stood back. “Leonid, please. I need to hear your story tonight, if you will?” Salem sat back in his chair; he ran a hand over his face, suddenly he looked tired. “I will listen.”

  “You were a terrible listener as a child, Salem,” Leonid mocked softly. “But I will tell it. Those who do not wish to remain, I suggest you go. It is not a short or pleasant tale.”

  “I will stay,” Marcus confirmed. Accompanying nods came quickly from Michael and Sloane. Tegan surveyed them quietly. The Second, the brother, the cousin… she thanked the Ancients that she was ready for this, it would have been so overwhelming to be thrust into this situation unprepared. In that regards, she had sympathy for her new family members.

  “Very well. Tegan, you should sit.” Leonid instructed; Tegan looked back at her father with a smirk. “Stubborn daughter,” Leonid’s voice did not hide his amusement as he turned away from her to face Salem once again. “I tell you now, I apologise for nothing.”

  “For the benefit of your son, I will tell this from the beginning.” Leonid didn’t wait for confirmation. “Your father was betrothed to Mikayla in a binding ceremony when they were mere infants.” Leonid began. “A ceremony such as this has lost favour over the years, something to do with free will and love.” His sneer intimated to the room what he thought of that. “A binding betrothal, although rare now, is blessed by the Ancients, and their union was blessed. I know this as I was there, as was Marcus. A binding betrothal cannot be unbroken. Once it is blessed by the Ancients, the binding is for life,” he paused, “possibly afterlife but I have never had the opportunity to ask.”

  “Is it the same as a betrothal ceremony?” Sloane asked as he pulled up a chair. “We still practice betrothal ceremonies.” His face flushed as he looked at the floor.

  “No, a betrothal ceremony is merely a promise. A binding ceremony, it is an old custom, and binds the couple together by Casting and a blessing from the Ancients,” Marcus stated. “The main families of power favour it, although it has fallen out of practice. Parents now seek their children to be happy.”

  Tegan watched them all and saw the different opinions of that statement across each of their faces. Salem looked guilty, Michael looked agreeable, Sloane sneered, and Marcus remained expressionless. Interesting mix, she thought to herself.

  “You can be as happy with a binding betrothal as you can with a match made on love. Both can flourish, both can fail.” Michael spoke up from his corner. He, like her cousin, had sat down, leaving Tegan the only one in the room standing. Like a sentry she thought, exactly what I am.

  “Indeed. Divorce is very much a human concept, but I believe it is becoming more common in even our way of life.” Leonid shrugged slightly. “However, a binding betrothal blessed by the Ancients is unbreakable.” Leonid looked at Michael. “It does not mean it is infallible. Your father fell in love with another. Celeste Ivanov to be precise.” Leonid sighed, “Celeste was of a strong house, the Ivanov’s are a fierce bunch.” He nodded at Sloane. “As I am sure you can attest to.”

  “We are one of the better ones.” Sloane grinned, “the madness isn’t talked about much.” His easy grin at such a disrespectful statement made Tegan glance at her father in confusion.

  “The madness is more from your father than your line,” Leonid laughed humorously. “I have known many of your ancestors and I can assure you, your father is the first one to be unbalanced.”

  “Good to know,” Sloane said quietly with a quick look to Michael.

  “Celeste was a beauty, a fierce warrior with a strong mind and large heart.” Leonid looked out the window as he reminisced. “She was much sought after for her hand, but she would not be bound to any. Her focus was killing Drakyhn and it wasn’t until much later, it would be discovered that she had already given her heart to another.”

  Salem looked up from his desk. “We didn’t mean to fall in love,” he spoke to his son but the words for the room.

  “It was what it was,” Leonid shrugged. “You were betrothed to another in a binding that could not be broken, you knew that, Celeste knew that and yet you both acted on your feelings.”

  “Did mom know?” Michael asked his father quietly.

  “Yes,” Leonid answered instead, “we all found out when they were discovered together.”

  “We tried to run,” Salem sighed heavily, “we were children.”

  “You were old enough to know better.” Leonid reprimanded him. “You both were. After discovery, Mikayla begged you to move to her House where you would be away from temptation. But you would not go.”

  “My home was here. This is my family’s legacy to be at this Headquarters,” Salem snapped.

  “You stayed for Celeste!” Leonid bit back. “You didn’t give a damn about your family or their legacy when you ran!”

  “Father,” Tegan murmured.

  “I apologise daughter.” Leonid straightened in his chair. “Celeste was shunned. To save her own marriage prospects and to gain grace for her name, she came to me.”

  “Why you?” Sloane enquired.

  “I was a Sentinel trainer at the time, for those seeking to enter the Elite Guard,” Leonid explained.

  “She was training to become Elite?” Sloane looked impressed.

  “She was and she did. An exceptional Sentinel. All the best Sentinels trained with me,” Leonid commented. “As did Salem.” Leonid grudgingly acknowledged even as he scowled. “He came to do his final training before his Trial. His father, Joaquin, believed his son had learned from his impulses and Celeste would be no temptation to his son.” Leonid’s scorn was evident. “But you were both foolish.” His glare held no kindness as he stared at Salem. “She believed you would return for her, that your promise to break the betrothal would be held.”

  “As you said, it is not to be broken,” Salem ran a hand over his face. “I came back to tell my father. I did,” his eyes sought out Tegan’s, “but he would not be persuaded to call on the Ancients.”

  “And you almost killed yourself trying to call them yourself,” Marcus said from his chair, where he had sat quietly, listening.

  “I was young and foolish,” Salem stated again with a grimace to his Second.

  “You were seventeen,” Leonid sneered. “You sought to fight alongside any Elite Guard and be a warrior, but when you try to defend your actions, you blame adolescence?”

  “How does any of this story make you my sister?” Michael asked Tegan.

  “When your father left my training facility, never to return, Celeste discovered she was pregnant,” Leonid answered for her.

  “As a result of Salem’s recklessness, your grandfather, pushed the wedding to Mikayla to happen sooner rather than later,” Marcus explained as he saw his friend and Principal Elder, struggling with the past revelations. “Both Houses were eager not
to upset the Ancients after the failed attempt of Salem’s to dissolve the binding.”

  “I knew you married mom so young,” Michael shook his head in disgust, “I thought it was out of love,” he scoffed.

  “I did love your mother,” Salem tried to reassure his son, “but it came with time,” he admitted solemnly.

  “So… you’re the Heir.” Michael sat and assessed Tegan with open hostility.

  “Not necessarily,” Salem flushed as he refused to meet his son’s eye.

  “By the Ancients,” Michael stood in indignation. “You didn’t love her, but you slept with her anyway when you were in love with someone else?”

  “A binding ceremony demands consummation,” Marcus interjected quietly. “It’s thought that since the Ancients bless the union, they are present through the actual ceremony and the beliefs of our Elders is that a consummation on the night of the ceremony will also be blessed by the Ancients.”

  “Are you kidding?” Sloane looked appalled. “Do they think the Ancients are watching?”

  Despite herself Tegan let out a small laugh, she had asked the same thing of her father when he told her this story.

  “You knocked mom up on her wedding night?” Michael was still disgusted. “Of course you did,” he walked over to the window and stared out over the grounds before turning back to the room. “So, who was born first?”

  “Celeste was killed in a raid a few months after my binding ceremony,” Salem remembered. “I was told she had been killed after her funeral rites had been performed. I never saw her after I left the training facility before I was married. How is she my daughter?”

  “There were no funeral rites for Celeste,” Leonid admitted. “Well, not when I said they were. I knew Celeste was pregnant, it was hard not to notice, she was getting bigger every day. Celeste’s family disowned her when they learned that she was pregnant. They considered her ruined. I removed her from my training facility and sent her to my home at Silver Lake where I was to follow. She was content to rest there, get ready for her child,” Leonid’s head bowed. “It was on her journey there that she was attacked.”