Into Darkness: The Akrhyn Series (Book 1)

by Eve L Mitchell

  “But you just said she attracts Drakhyn…”

  “Yes, I knew that if there were Drakhyn there, they would come,” Cord grinned.

  “They would come for her,” Garrick stressed.

  “I was there Garrick,” Cord dismissed his Prime’s concern.

  “I think you were as Principal Holt decreed, reckless,” Garrick surmised, frowning more as he ran his eyes over Cord’s attire, the black Sentinel fatigues causing his frown to deepen. “And where are your robes? You are a Castor now, Cord, not a Sentinel.”

  “A Castor is merely a Sentinel with a different name,” Cord shrugged indifferently. “Vampyre, Lycan, Castor, Sentinel… we are all Akrhyns.”

  “Your father does not think so,” Garrick mocked him gently.

  “My father died,” Cord’s words snapped in the quiet room, Garrick failed to hide his surprise. “Cornelius is a lunatic. His discriminatory ways are abhorrent to most.”

  “You should be careful, Cord,” Garrick’s words were soft and gentle in his admonishment “You better than anyone, know that you never know who is listening.”

  “Prime,” Cord dipped his head in acknowledgement.

  “So… they tell me you are mated?”

  Cord couldn’t suppress his groan. “Who told you?”

  “Well, you should have told me,” Garrick chastised, “but it was the Lycan.”

  “Marcus,” Cord frowned as he gazed out of the window. “I thought he was on my side.”

  “Are there sides, Cord? Should there be sides?”

  “You know what I mean, Garrick,” Cord slumped into a chair, his hands running into his hair as he thought. “A war is coming, I can feel it, she can feel it, I just don’t know if it’s the same war we will be fighting.”

  “What do you mean?” Garrick sat on Cord’s bed. Like the room, it was neat and tidy and he sometimes wondered if the young Castor actually stayed here, the room was so sterile.

  “Tegan says she can feel the changes in the Drakhyn, she thinks they are amassing, she thinks they are getting ready for all-out war,” Cord tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling.

  “And you?” Garrick asked, “What do you think?”

  “I think war is coming but it will have little to do with a Drakhyn uprising.”

  “You think your father,” Garrick blanched at the glare he received. “Sorry, Cornelius. Do you think Cornelius’s supporters are that hungry for change, that they will wage war?”

  “I believe it is coming,” Cord nodded. “Cornelius will not be dissuaded from his quest to reduce Lycan and Vampyres to lesser Akrhyns.”

  “It is madness,” Garrick muttered. “His fanaticism over this has been well hidden, if you hadn’t told me…”

  “I took a risk,” Cord murmured softly.

  “Why me?” Garrick asked as he smoothed his robes, he almost felt nervous at the response, Cord was such a formidable young male, the reason could be anything.

  “Because your wife is a Lycan, your sister Made, your children could be Lycan, yet you are a proud father, loving husband, diligent brother.”

  “I’m glad I am sitting, Castor Ivanov, I never thought you would praise me,” Garrick laughed softly.

  “I praise your family morals, not your Casting,” Cord winked at his superior, causing Garrick to let out a loud laugh.

  “You are a strange young male,” Garrick looked at him with amusement. “Your power is unknown, seemingly endless – I do not understand it, I worry that you do not either.” Garrick stood. “I will keep a vigilant eye on Cornelius’s behaviour – this ball will be the perfect opportunity.”

  “The ball,” Cord shook his head in disgust.

  “Inappropriate I know, but he has the ear of powerful Sentinels,” Garrick ran his eye over Cord’s room again. “I need to discipline you for your actions tonight.”

  “Sure,” Cord stayed where he was, his attention still on the world outside his window.

  “You will Cast with the novices for the next three days,” Garrick suppressed his amusement as Cord straightened in outrage. “Powders will be used at all times.”

  “Novices?” Cord’s scorn rang in the room.

  “Yes, you can teach them humility,” Garrick’s lips twitched as Cord stared at him disbelievingly.

  Just then a fire message appeared in front of Garrick, he plucked it out of the air and as he read it, Cord saw his frown.

  “Don’t tell me, Jameis couldn’t make the Drakhyn talk,” Cord drawled lazily.

  “No, he could not. They are asking for me,” Garrick conjured a fire message with only one powder, which was impressive for Castors – but not impressive for Cord.

  “What are you telling them?” Cord demanded impatiently.

  “That we will be there momentarily,” Garrick sighed. He held his hand up at Cord’s triumphant grin. “You will be humble, you will be deferent, you will be quiet,” Garrick watched the young Castor. “Cord, you need to at least pretend that you can be controlled.”

  “I can pretend, Prime Castor Becker,” Cord bowed with reverence.

  “I can still whoop your ass with a leather belt,” Garrick muttered as he reached out for Cord’s hand, he chose to ignore Cord’s low laughter as they portalled to the Headquarters.

  The knocking on the door grew more insistent and annoying, Tegan rose from the bed, strode across the room and opened her door with little ceremony. Sloane stood on the opposite side, his arms crossed, his feet wide apart and his scowl looked misplaced on his usually happy face.

  “Cousin,” Tegan greeted.

  “Tegan,” Sloane growled as he walked past her into the room.

  “You’re mad at me too?” Tegan sighed as she dropped her head in defeated resignation.

  “Mad? At you?” Sloane scoffed. “Why would I be mad?” He turned to face her. “Would I be mad you ignored orders and went out of the gates?”

  “I climbed the fence,” Tegan muttered.

  “Oh, you climbed the fence, well then, that makes a difference,” Sloane’s dripping sarcasm made her flinch.

  “Sorry,” Tegan sighed.

  “You went outside the gate, you defied orders, you walked into danger with no thought of your actions for yourself or for Cord,” Sloane stood still in front of her, his anger still apparent.

  “I was fine, he was fine, we are both trained Sentinels.”

  “He is a Castor, he can portal at any time, you cannot.”

  “I was fine, your brother blinded me with a ball of light and when I was able to see again, he had captured the Drakhyn,” Tegan kicked the foot of her bed. “He didn’t even seem taxed.”

  “Tegan, please, please tell me you aren’t jealous.”

  “Jealous?” Tegan enquired. “Of Cord?”

  “Yes.”

  “No,” she laughed. “No Sloane, I am not jealous.”

  “You seem jealous,” Sloane pushed it.

  “What is there to be jealous of? He is arrogant, he is conceited, he is… pigheaded.” Tegan threw her hands up in the air.

  “Oh good grief, you like him,” Sloane slumped onto her bed. “You actually like him, I wasn’t expecting this. Do you think it’s the mate bond?”

  “I don’t like him,” Tegan kept her face from Sloane’s, unsure he would see through her lie. “It may be the bond,” she grudgingly admitted.

  “Well Cord won’t be bound to anything against his will, he will find a way to break it,” Sloane said with conviction.

  “Good,” Tegan realised her voice was shaky and cleared her throat.

  “You could have been killed, Tegan,” Sloane chastised her, rising from the bed and coming over to her. “I know you’re the most badass Sentinel who ever lived,” she rolled her eyes at his humour – an easy habit she had picked up from him, “but you could have been killed.”

  “I was okay, I don’t like your brother, but I doubt he would have let me get hurt,” Tegan said softly, pushing away the warm feeling that this realisation gave her.
Sloane pulled her into a hug, Tegan had not yet gotten used to Sloane’s easily displays of affection, but it didn’t deter him from hugging her, or throwing his arm around her shoulder whenever he wanted.

  “What’s your punishment?” Sloane asked as he stepped away from her. As Tegan told him, he did his best to put a positive spin on things, but she wasn’t fooled.

  The door was knocked again, and Sloane called for them to enter. Marcus walked into the room, not at all surprised that Sloane was lying across Tegan’s bed.

  “Sentinel Tegan, you are needed in the dungeon.”

  Sloane shot to his feet, “No.”

  “Of course, Elder,” Tegan was already putting her boots on.

  “Why?” Sloane demanded.

  “The Drakhyn has said nothing except one word,” Marcus said into the quiet of the room. “Tiger.”

  Tegan froze for a moment, before resuming tying her laces.

  “What does Tiger mean?” Sloane demanded.

  “Me,” Tegan said as she stood. “It wants me.”

  Marcus nodded sagely, “Cord and his Prime are in the dungeon, waiting.” Marcus watched Tegan as she checked her weapons. “Cord was able to get him to say a word, he said ‘tiger’, I thought Cord was going to kill it, we needed three Sentinels to get him out of the room.”

  “Cord is here?” Tegan asked.

  “Yes, we had to call him back,” Marcus’s tone revealed his displeasure. “I was hoping Castor Jameis would crack the Drakhyn, but it was not to be.”

  “It doesn’t sound like Cord has either, if you need Tegan,” Sloane said as the three of them descended the stairs.

  “True,” Marcus smiled. “I think that just made me feel better.” They continued down to the dungeons.

  Tegan had not been there previously, but she knew where they were. Outside the dungeon, he waited. His back against the door, one leg raised propped against it, his arms folded, his head down. “Cord?” Tegan moved forward quicker. The pull to him hastening her steps.

  “Little tiger,” Cord moved off the door. “I will be with you the whole time.”

  “I’ll be okay,” Tegan smiled at his reassurance. His hand came up and stroked the side of her face, Tegan leaned into his palm. “It’ll be okay, it cannot get to me and even if it does, I am more than capable of killing it, Castor.”

  “I know,” Cord’s smile was soft, “and I know you will.” He took a step back, surprised at his own intimacy with her – shaking his head as if to clear it, he quickly assessed her.

  “I have all my weapons,” Tegan assured him.

  “I know,” he nodded once as he opened the door, Tegan following him in.

  Sloane turned and looked at Marcus. “Honestly, if I didn’t witness it, I wouldn’t believe it.”

  “I don’t even think I have seen the bond that strong in Lycans.”

  “Should we be concerned?” Sloane asked.

  “I think it will be difficult to break it,” Marcus said as they walked to the door. “I would be surprised if he will even make it bend.”

  “This is going to be messy,” Sloane mumbled as they went into the dungeon.

  Tegan was at the door to the interrogation room, which was brightly lit, obviously to keep the Drakhyn subdued due to their sensitivity to light. Salem stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder, she felt comforted by the fact he was here, which puzzled her, but she didn’t have time to delve into her feelings. The Drakhyn sat with its head bowed, its taloned hands shielding its eyes from the bright light. It moved restlessly in the seat, its distress and uncomfortableness, obvious. Chains bound its arms to the table. The table was bolted into the concrete. It looked so similar to a human interrogation room, Tegan mused as she stood at the door waiting for the go ahead to go into the room. Cord was whispering quietly with his Prime, her instruction to wait for him. The Drakhyn looked up suddenly, staring at her place behind the door. A slow smile spread over its face and Tegan swallowed nervously.

  It had been waiting for me. Why? Fed up with waiting, Tegan opened the door and entered the room, ignoring the startled cry of Sloane as she closed the door firmly behind her – her intent clear that she wanted to be alone with it.

  “Tiger,” the Drakhyn hissed at her.

  “That is not my name,” Tegan answered confidently as she approached the Drakhyn. “Why are you watching Headquarters?” she asked as she stood on the opposite side of the table. The Drakhyn merely smiled at her before turning its head and staring at the wall. “You don’t want to talk to me?” Tegan asked it softly. “Fine, I’ll leave. The Castor will come back in and he can make you talk… again.” The Drakhyn glanced at her quickly before looking at the door, its eyes went back to the wall. “He hurt you before?”

  “Yes,” its hissing voice slithered over her skin.

  “He can be ruthless,” Tegan shrugged as she watched the Drakhyn.

  “You think your sympathy fools me?” The Drakhyn laughed. “I know your game, Tiger.”

  “I have no game, Drakhyn, I merely state facts. The Castor is ruthless and will not hesitate to make you talk,” Tegan took a steadying breath and then pulled the chair out from the table, sitting across from the Drakhyn. “But you can talk, and you seem to be able to talk to me, so why induce pain if you don’t need to?”

  “You think your pretty eyes and silky hair will make me talk?” It sneered at her, exposing it’s pointed razor sharp teeth.

  “No, but thank you for the compliment,” Tegan watched the Drakhyn carefully. “Is that why you asked for me, because you find me attractive?” The Drakhyn snorted again in contempt. “No, you’re too clever to fall for a pretty Akrhyn,” Tegan leaned back and looked at the Drakhyn. “You wanted to upset the Castor?” The Drakhyn failed to hide its smile. “It won’t work.”

  “It did work, he could hardly contain his rage, we were watching,” the Drakhyn replied smugly.

  “Who is we?” Tegan asked as she pulled her hair over her shoulder, she watched the Drakhyn watch her as she ran her hands through the ends.

  “We are always watching,” the Drakhyn’s voice was quiet as it watched her play with the ends of her hair, it looked transfixed.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound creepy at all,” Tegan looked up from her hair as she smiled at the Drakhyn. “You were in the woods, watching,” flicking her hair over her shoulder she looked back at the Drakhyn, “for the female?”

  The Drakhyn scowled at her, it pulled uselessly on its chains as it tried to move in the chair.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Tegan murmured softly. “You can talk to me, or I can get the others, they are heavier handed than me.”

  “Because you are female, you are weak,” the Drakhyn nodded in understanding. Tegan kept her face straight as she smiled softly at the Drakhyn. “You are not meant to be wearing these weapons, female. These males do not treat you right.”

  “The males treat me just fine, Drakhyn,” Tegan said as she glanced at the door.

  “You are scared of them?”

  “No,” Tegan replied firmly.

  “You look to the door,” it sat back as it watched her. “You seek their assistance or are you scared they are going to remove you from us?”

  Tegan leaned forward as she searched the Drakhyn’s black eyes. “Is it you that speaks to me Drakhyn or the others that watch behind your eyes?” The Drakhyn smiled at her. “It’s you,” Tegan whispered. “The one in the woods.” She glanced quickly at the door. “Tell me who the female is, whom do you seek?”

  “Why would I tell you?” the Drakhyn’s voice shifted slightly, became less of a hiss, more pronounced and refined.

  “Because you wanted me here, you wanted to see me,” Tegan tilted her head as she watched it. “You are fascinating,” she admitted.

  “I fascinate you?” the Drakhyn bit out a laugh, Tegan marvelled at it in silence, she never knew they could laugh. “You think to twirl your hair in front of me and play demure, you think I would be fooled, Tiger?”

/>   “I am not here to fool you,” Tegan stood from the chair. “I am here to learn – don’t you want to teach me?”

  The Drakhyn threw its head back and laughed, Tegan’s eyes widening in wonder. “I will teach you to be demure, hunter, when I have you under me,” it smiled revealing all its teeth, “when I breed you.”

  “I am not the female you wait for,” Tegan mused as she watched it, unnerved by the words but giving nothing away – as her father had taught her.

  “How do you know?”

  “You said she would give you many Drakhyn,” Tegan paused, “I know it is not me.”

  “It is not you, although I will take you, never fear.” The Drakhyn watched her with a confident smile.

  “And I will have your head,” Tegan smiled back.

  “I look forward to seeing you again, Tiger.” The Drakhyn slouched a little in its seat, its head dropping to its chest and Tegan knew that the other Drakhyn had gone.

  “Raise your head, Drakhyn,” she commanded softly.

  Dazedly the Drakhyn lifted its head, shielding its eyes from the bright lights. “Tiger,” it moved in the seat, again testing the chains.

  “You don’t like it when he takes over?” Tegan searched the Drakhyn’s face.

  “It burns,” the Drakhyn hissed.

  “What burns?” Tegan asked moving around to the Drakhyn, she saw smoke gathering at its feet. “Castor!” she yelled. “They are killing it.”

  Cord came running into the room and straight up to the Drakhyn, Salem followed, pulling Tegan away from the Drakhyn.

  “By the Ancients,” Cord cursed as he whispered a spell. The smoke dissipated but the Drakhyn suddenly let out a scream, causing those in the room to jump.

  “You will get nothing from him, Tiger, your time is done.” The voice that came out of the mouth of the Drakhyn was the other one from the woods, a sinister smirk crossed the Drakhyn’s face and then the whole body slumped forward. Flames burst all over the body causing Cord to jump back with a curse. In moments, the ashes of the Drakhyn sat where his body once had.

  “I did not know they could do that,” Tegan murmured to the shocked room.