“You want to spar?” Cord laughed incredulously. Tegan’s answering grin was all he needed to know before he pulled back his hood and took off his robe. He wore combat clothes beneath his clothing and felt a pang of disappointment that this new Holt did not seem to be at all surprised in his choice of attire.
Tegan watched the infamous Castor throw his robes carelessly to the side of the training room, weaving the kali stick in front of him as he warmed up. Her father, Leonid, had told her stories of Cord Ivanov, his prowess as a Castor and his equally impressive combat skills. Cord’s father had been killed in combat when he was a child. His mother then went on to marry Cornelius Ivanov – which was not unusual for Akrhyns, their mortality rates were high. What was unusual was the fact that Cornelius had refused all betrothal ceremonies but accepted Delilah. Although Cord was not born an Ivanov, Cornelius claimed him as his first born and Heir. Cord’s father’s family allowed the claiming, but rumour had it that they wanted him back as a result of his impressive skills and abilities. Had Cord not been Heir then this may have been beneficial to both houses, but apparently Cord would have nothing to do with his father’s House.
As Tegan watched him warm up, she realised father had kept to himself the fact that Cord was incredibly handsome. Tall and not as broad as some Sentinels, but there was no denying the muscles under his black shirt. His dark brown hair was not in the usual style of Sentinels – which was cut short. Rather, Cord’s was longer, falling over his ears and into his eyes. The thick strands kissed the back of his neck and Tegan wondered idly if it was as soft to touch as it looked. He turned to her quickly, his kali stick held perfectly still in front of him.
“Have you had your fill, daughter of Salem?” His grey eyes twinkled with amusement as he watched her.
“Had my fill?”
“Of looking at me?” Cord maintained his position, his hand never wavering, completely still. The arrogant smirk on his full lips caused a blush to spread over Tegan’s cheeks. Cord’s smile grew wider.
“I was looking at your technique,” Tegan scrambled for a reasonable reply; had she really just been caught admiring him?
“Sure you were,” his low rumbling laughter flustered Tegan more.
By the Ancients, he’s just laughing at you as you flounder in front of him! She swore internally to herself, instead of making the moment worse, Tegan struck his stick causing him to jump back.
“And so it begins,” he grinned at her as he leapt forward and she once again found herself scrambling to keep up with him. They moved across the floor, trading blow for blow. At one point, Cord spun, yanking two more sticks off the wall and throwing one at her. She caught it, both of them exchanging a quick grin. Doubly armed they continued their battle, Tegan ducked low, sweeping her leg out to catch him off balance, but Cord simply jumped out of the way, landing effortlessly before leaping out of her range as she brought her stick up in an arc in the hopes of disabling him. Cord countered by somersaulting over her crouched body, striking mid-air, Tegan lost one of her kali sticks to his assault. Rising to her feet she spun out of the way as Cord brought both sticks down to strike her. As he committed to the move, Tegan again dropped low, swiping her stick across the back of his legs, knocking him off balance. Cord quickly recovered but lost a stick in the process. It was Tegan’s turn to grin at him. Breathless, both stood across from each other for a moment, before Tegan pulled her arm back and threw her stick with force straight at Cord’s face. As he dodged the weapon, Tegan jumped, twisting into the air, bracing her elbow she brought it down on the back of Cord’s neck. He let out a grunt as her weight and the blow dropped him to his knees. However, he was able to twist as he fell, grabbing both her arms, he held tight as they both landed solidly on the mats. Tegan tried to twist out of the hold, but Cord thrust his knee in between Tegan’s thighs, disabling her from rolling out of his hold.
“Yield,” he commanded as he straddled her.
Tegan wiggled beneath him before bringing her head back and striking him cleanly on the side of his face. His harsh grunt of pain was enough to loosen his hold. Tegan grabbed his arm and using his weight as momentum, flipped them in order for her to have the advantage. Cord’s loose hand struck her hard in the side and as her hold slackened, he grabbed her arm and had her pinned on her front, as his knee dug into her lower back.
He bent over her slowly. “Yield,” his low whisper into her ear caused a shiver over her skin. Tegan could almost feel his smile against her skin.
Flustered again at this man, she brought her head back sharply, headbutting him hard. Cord yelled out in pain and Tegan scrambled away from him. As they both rose to their feet, they regarded each other breathlessly.
“You fight dirty, daughter of Salem,” Cord grinned as he wiped sweat from his brow.
“You use your Cast, son of Cornelius,” Tegan replied.
“Did I?” His mocking stare as he straightened made Tegan want to headbutt him again.
“Yes, we both know it, but it makes sense you couldn’t beat me with just your skill.”
Cord threw his head back as he laughed out loud. Annoyingly, like his mocking stare, Tegan felt a shiver over her skin as she watched him. No one had ever mentioned that he was as formidable to look at as he was an opponent.
“Shall we call a truce?” he asked as he watched her with amusement.
“A truce suggests neither of us could win, but I have not yet conceded,” Tegan stooped to pick up a kali stick.
“You will yield to me, Tegan,” Cord promised as he watched her move closer.
“I wouldn’t bet on it, Cord.” To her horror her voice was low and throaty and she watched with alarm as Cord’s eyes narrowed, his eyes moving to her lips as her tongue darted out nervously to wet the dryness.
“You play games?” he asked curiously.
“Combat is not a game,” Tegan answered quickly, she felt heat rise in her cheeks.
Cord moved with the speed of a Vampyre, he was behind her, her arm twisted up her back, his other hand at her throat. “It’s not combat you play at,” his breath caressed her neck as his head dipped in low, breathing her in. “You will not win against me, using those skills, Tegan, daughter of Salem.”
“What skills? It is you who is not fighting fair,” Tegan gasped as his hold tightened at her neck. She tilted her head back with the hope of manoeuvring out of the hold.
“Neither do you,” his soft words were breathed into her ear, causing Tegan to arch her back against him for a different reason other than escape. Hearing his sharp inhale confused her as much as it excited her. “Neither do you,” Cord whispered in her ear. Sudden coldness at her back alerted her to the fact he was gone before she heard the door closing behind him. Tegan bent over, her hands on her knees as she took a deep breath.
“I would advise you to stay away from him.”
Startled, she spun to see Marcus walk into the room. “You were watching?” Tegan felt her face flaming as she looked away from the Lycan.
“I was.” Marcus folded his arms across his impressive torso, his stare unwavering.
“He did not win,” Tegan muttered as she collected the sticks and placing them back on the wall.
“Be careful what game you are playing with him,” Marcus watched her flush with embarrassment. “He is dangerous. His allegiances are… questionable.”
“It was only sparring,” Tegan defended herself quietly.
“Was it?” The Lycans knowing stare unnerved her. “Just be careful of the Castor, Tegan. He is not what he seems.”
“I should sleep.” Tegan inclined her head to the Elder before swiftly walking past him and exiting the room. She half ran up the stairs to her room. When she got there, she closed the door quickly and firmly before leaning against it. Her head was jumbled as she thought of the sparring match. Cord had been a formidable opponent and it had disappointed her a little that he had Cast during it. They had been evenly matched until then, but if she was truthful with herself, she knew s
he was more disappointed that he had left when he was holding her. What had that been? Her emotions were roiling in confusion.
Leonid had ensured that she had minimal contact with male Sentinels and the experience she just had in the training room had been exhilarating. Some of the things Cord had said to her had confused her, but irrespective of the words, his closeness, his maleness had excited her. Shaking her head, Tegan went into the bathroom, peeling off her damp clothes from the exercise, she tossed them into the hamper and after washing her hands and brushing her teeth, she climbed into bed. Thoughts of Cord ran through her head as she settled under the warm blankets. Becoming annoyed with herself for her fanciful thoughts, Tegan pushed all thoughts of the dark-haired male with his sculpted cheekbones and mocking grey eyes from her thoughts and prayed to the Ancients that sleep found her swiftly.
Cord sat in his room moodily as he stared unseeingly at the furs on his bed. The pull towards Tegan had been alluring. He admonished himself as he sat reflecting on her skills, remembering the speed and agility of the Akrhyn female. He found himself focusing more than he was comfortable with on the suppleness of her body as she had arched into his hold.
Standing abruptly, he pulled his clothes off, tossing them carelessly onto the couch behind him. He had left her in the training room and hadn’t even picked up his robes. He had gone back for them, overhearing the Lycans warning to her. Any other time he would have walked brazenly into the room and confronted them both, but no, this time, he had stayed outside, out of sight to avoid seeing her. Marcus had followed her but his sharp look into the darkened corner made Cord question whether he knew that he hid here.
Hid there, his face contorted into an angry scowl. He had hidden from them both, before slipping inside and grabbing his robes and then he had portalled – portalled – to his room, so he wouldn’t risk seeing either of them again that night. Shaking his head in frustration, Cord glared at the soft furnishings of the room. She had detected he had Cast. Another puzzle; how did she know? It had been subtle, barely even a spell, and she knew? How? Cord lay atop the bedding and closed his eyes, almond shaped indigo eyes staring back at him as he did so. What are you? he thought to himself as he recalled the way she moved, the fearlessness in her eyes and the softness of her skin. Shaking his head again as he tried to clear his head, he thought of the enigma that was Tegan. She could detect he had Cast. Yes, she was more than a Sentinel, he suspected that, but what more was she?
Sloane watched his cousin lazily as she went through her morning exercises. From what he could gather, when she actually replied to him, this was her third workout of today. It was barely past nine in the morning. He hadn’t been awake for more than an hour and Tegan had already run her laps, trained with kali sticks and now was at a punching bag.
“Is it anyone in particular you are thinking of, or are you just super aggressive today?” Sloane drawled as he sipped his coffee.
“Drakhyn,” came the grunted reply.
“Of course,” Sloane replied dryly. “You seem particularly wound tight this morning cousin.” Another grunt was his reply and he rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Do you like coffee?”
Tegan stopped her workout and looked at her cousin in bewilderment. “Who doesn’t like coffee?”
“My brother,” Sloane replied. He noticed the tightening of her shoulders and it was his turn to groan. “What did he do?” Tegan turned back to the bag and resumed her workout. “Tegan, cousin dear, tell me what that Castor did?”
“Nothing,” Tegan sent a particularly vicious punch to the bag.
“Ouch, was that meant for me?” Cord’s mocking voice stopped Sloane from replying and Tegan’s next punch.
“You need to stop portalling,” Tegan watched him as he walked over the floor, picking his way around the matts.
“I could but I just don’t want to,” Cord grinned at her and she turned her back to him and resumed punching.
“You’ve been here one day,” Sloane glared at his brother. “Not even a day, but a night. What did you do in a night?”
“What or who?” Cord winked at his brother as he sat beside him.
Sloane’s look of alarm to Tegan had Cord laughing out loud. It was so rare for Cord to laugh, Sloane stared at him for several moments before realising he had made them both uncomfortable.
“Sorry,” Sloane muttered.
“You find too many things funny,” Tegan snapped at Cord.
Seeing his brother’s incredulous reaction to her words, Cord laughed again. He caught the water bottle Tegan flung at him deftly. “Temper temper, little tiger,” he chided her.
“Did something happen between you two?” Sloane asked as he looked between the two of them. “Actually, don’t tell me, I think I may be okay if you lie when you tell me the answer…” he trailed off.
“He’s a cheat,” Tegan snapped.
“She’s a tease,” Cord answered at the same time, then cursed himself for revealing his emotions. A tease? He sounded like a twelve-year-old male.
“Whoa, wait,” Sloane stood up. “Seriously, what in the name of the Ancients is going on?” He watched both of them look at one another before turning away. “No no no, you two hooked up?”
“What?” Both of them were now glaring at him.
“What does hook up mean? I wasn’t hooked by any means,” Tegan was glaring at Cord again.
“You would have been hooked if I wished it,” Cord replied before he looked pissed off at his retort.
“What, you need your Casting to hook me too?” Tegan crossed her arms as she regarded the Castor with barely contained anger.
“Would you use your body to get out of that too? Or do you like the thought of being bound?”
“Enough!” Sloane roared at them both. “What in the name of Delfar is going on?”
“We were sparring last night,” Tegan stalked over to her water bottle. “He Cast and cheated because he cannot beat me fairly.”
“You’re full of Velvore trickery, little tiger, aren’t you?” Cord’s eyes were narrowed on her as he approached the angry Akrhyn.
“I’m full of trickery? Says the trickster himself!”
“Using your body to distract a male is just as shameful.”
“I did no such thing!” Tegan poked a finger into Cord’s chest.
Cord grabbed it as she went to withdraw and held on tight, jerking her forward until she was flush with his chest, he looked down at her. “You lie.”
Tegan had been looking up at him, feeling his closeness, her head was muddled again but on hearing his words, she pushed angrily away from him. “Stop touching me!”
Both glared at each other over the space of a few feet. Sloane watched them both, worry rising rapidly. “Okay, I need you both to step away from each other,” he began.
“I am away from her,” Cord growled, his stare never leaving Tegan’s.
“Further away from each other,’ Sloane stepped in between them as they both took a step back. “Out of grabbing reach.” He watched as both of them took a further step back. “Okay, now… someone tell me, what in the shade is going on?”
“We were sparring and he Cast because he cannot beat me without it,” Tegan repeated as she glared at Cord, her eyes narrowing further when he snorted and shook his head.
“We were sparring and she started rubbing herself against me, like a she-cat!”
“How dare you!” Tegan launched forward, sidestepping Sloane before grabbing Cord’s robes.
“And as you can see, again she touches me.”
Tegan dropped her hand from his robes like she had been burned. “I touch you, not with desire, but because I want to hurt you.”
“You couldn’t hurt me if your life depended on it, little tiger.”
“Stop calling me little tiger!” Tegan growled at him, before turning away to look at her cousin. “I am going to hurt him.” Tegan looked meaningfully at Sloane who was swinging his head between the two of them as if he were at a tennis match.
“As if you could,” Cord snorted derisively.
“You going to need your magic?” Tegan taunted.
Cord lost his mocking smile, stalking towards Tegan before his brother put himself physically in between them both. “You insult me and my Cast?” Cord seethed.
“Okay, I need one of you to leave the training room,” Sloane declared. Both of them looked at him furiously and he felt himself shrink under the power of their stares. “Seriously, one of you needs to go. Can’t you see it?”
“See what?” Tegan asked as she registered the look on her cousin’s face. “What is it?” she asked warily.
“You’re mated,” Sloane watched them both as they stared at him in confusion and then disbelief. “Can’t you sense it?”
“No,” Cord said simply, his arms folding across his chest.
“I’m not a Lycan, Sloane,” Tegan’s voice was quiet.
“It’s happened very rarely in Akrhyn history, but trust me, you’re displaying all the symptoms.” Sloane shook his head as he kept his arms outstretched, keeping the two apart. “I hope I’m wrong, but at this moment, I need one of you to leave.”
“I’m not going.”
“You’re not going. Seriously? Are you a child?” Tegan snapped at Cord.
“Yes,” Cord laughed at her, “you go. You stink anyway.”
Sloane was thrust out of the way as Tegan launched herself at Cord, punching him. Cord took the hit and then the two of them were in an all-out brawl in the middle of the training room.
“Enough!” Sloane roared, as he fought his way between them. His shout had attracted other Sentinels and the doors were flung open as several ran inside, pulling up short in confusion as they witnessed two Akrhyn tussling on the floor, especially the infamous Cord Ivanov. “Don’t stand there, help me separate these idiots.”
Breathing heavily, both Tegan and Cord were held back by three or four Sentinels. Sloane told one of them to fetch Marcus and Salem, whilst instructing the others not to let go. Salem and Marcus came running into the training room, pulling up in confusion when they saw the two Sentinels being physically restrained. Michael followed mere moments later.
Into Darkness: The Akrhyn Series (Book 1) Page 13
