“Well, it looks perfect.” Michael smiled at her.
“The Castors should be back soon, they took Sloane and Zahra already,” Marcus informed them.
“Castors?” Tegan asked as she fixed her chiffon wrap.
“Castor Jameis and,” Marcus faltered, “I never remember the other one’s name.”
“Cord is Heir tonight,” Michael whispered softly. “He won’t be a Castor that portals attendees.”
“I forget he is Heir,” Tegan admitted.
“So does he,” Michael chuckled.
Tegan felt oddly disappointed he wasn’t going to be there to portal her to the ball and see her in this dress before she was presented to the northern territory.
Castor Jameis appeared and waited patiently. “I have been instructed to take you, Principal, Second,” he bowed to Marcus, his white robes brushing the floor.
Salem sighed in exasperation. “Cornelius and his games,” he looked at his children. “See you soon.” They had just disappeared when a Castor in black robes appeared.
“I can only take one,” he stated harshly without greeting.
“I better go,” Michael said. “You never know what Cornelius is planning, I’ll be waiting.”
Tegan looked around the empty hallway and gave a light laugh. “And then there was one.”
“Not quite one,” his smooth voice slid over her.
Turning, she looked at Cord, he was in formal attire similar to Marcus. His black tunic was heavily embroidered with flecks of red stitching, accentuating the pattern. Cord’s hair was styled fashionably, and Tegan’s fingers itched to run her hands into it and mess it up so it framed his face like she was used too.
“They said you wouldn’t be here,” Tegan said. “You would be on Heir duties.”
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t in fatigues,” Cord’s usual mocking tone was light. “You disappoint me.”
“Because I am in a dress?”
“No,” his eyes ran over her, taking in her naked shoulders, the way the corset hugged her slim frame, the muscle tone of her upper arms. “No, you’re not disappointing me with your choice of dress.”
“You look nice,” Tegan ventured as her cheeks flushed with his compliment.
“And you look simply stunning,” Cord was frowning at her hair. “Who did your hair?”
“I did. Why, is it wrong?” Tegan’s hand flew to her hair, checking the tidy bun was still in place.
“I don’t like it.”
“It’s not your choice,” Tegan replied as she looked at him in exasperation.
“I say it is,” his hand raised, and Tegan felt her hair spill down her back.
“Cord!”
“Much better,” his finger caught a wayward curl and he placed it gently over her shoulder.
Tegan nudged him out of the way as she crossed the hall in search of a mirror. “I’m going to look like a common goatherd!” she grumbled at him.
“You don’t even know what that is.”
Cord’s chuckle irritated her more. “Martha used to call me it when I was little,” Tegan defended herself. As she checked her hair, she realised it wasn’t so bad, she hastily gathered her hair in her hands and then tipping her head back, shook it out as she let go. Tossing her head from side to side, Tegan was relieved to see that the time in the bun had given her hair a soft wave. Her hair actually looked good. Cord approached and stood close behind her. He watched her watch him in the mirror.
“I didn’t think you were vain,” he murmured behind her.
“I’m not, but tonight is important, I needed to look my best.”
“The bun made you look like a child,” Cord’s head dipped into her hair. “This is better.”
“Are you smelling my hair?”
“Yes,” his simple honest answer flustered her.
“We should go,” she reminded him.
“We should.” He was so close to her, they were almost touching. His grey eyes held hers in the mirror, neither of them moved.
“Cord?” Tegan’s soft voice brought him out of his silent contemplation of her.
Blinking, he stepped away from her, brushing her hair off her shoulder, he placed his hand on her bare shoulder. Tegan’s eyes snapped to his when she felt the tingle on her skin. His hand squeezed slightly and then with a nod, he portalled them to the ball.
“Where is this?” Tegan asked as she looked around the corridor, it was dimly lit and there was no other Akrhyn present.
“I didn’t want you to arrive in the middle of a crowd with everyone staring at you,” Cord murmured. “Waiting to judge you.”
Tegan looked at him in surprise. “You were thinking of my feelings?”
“Yes… let’s not make it more than it is,” Cord said gruffly, not meeting her eye.
“Yes, silly of me to think you would care,” Tegan smiled at him, to soften the words.
“I don’t care, Tegan.” Cord met her gaze head-on. “I was merely being considerate.”
His hurtful words reminded Tegan that any attraction they may have was merely the stupid mate bond. “Of course, thank you anyway.” She gave him a shaky smile. “I’m ready.”
Cord watched her quietly, his eyes ran over her leisurely, Tegan shifted under the weight of his appraisal. Slowly his eyes rose to meet hers and Tegan had to turn her head from the heat in his gaze. “You’re not ready… not yet.”
“What?” Her voice was as shaky as she felt. She turned back to him, in time to see his look of frustration. “What do you mean?”
“Cord, there you are,” Salem said as he walked along the corridor. “I thought you meant the other one from the west of the statue.” He looked between the two of them. “Everything alright here?”
“Of course,” Tegan smiled brightly. “Cord was just telling me that we were to wait for you.”
Salem took her arm as he nodded in appreciation at Cord. “Thank you for this. The foyer is unusually busy, there seems to be a back log of announcements.” Salem’s derisive tone was not lost on either of them.
Cord snorted contemptuously. “Parasites, I’ll move them along. Wait a few more minutes,” he instructed before he walked away without a backwards glance.
“You okay?” Salem asked quietly.
Tegan had been watching the Castor, she turned to Salem. “Of course, I think I may be slightly nervous,” she admitted softly.
“I’m with you, Michael is waiting, and Sloane has even slipped away from his mother’s hold.” Salem smiled at her. “We are here for you.”
“Thank you,” Tegan’s head bowed in gratitude. An overwhelming rush of emotion flooded her – suddenly she felt vulnerable. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to, Leonid loved her. She knew that he did but he rarely showed emotion and as a result, Tegan wasn’t used to receiving it, or experiencing it.
“Let’s go,” Salem offered his arm and smiling, Tegan took it. “Combat boots?” he asked softly.
An embarrassed laugh escaped her. “Yes,” she peeked a look up at him.
“Perfect,” his gentle squeeze on her arm and his delighted smile made Tegan laugh.
And that was how the stragglers in the foyer witnessed their first sighting of Celeste Ivanov’s mysterious daughter. Laughing on the arm of her father, looking breathtaking in a black corset gown that was as striking as it was daring.
Michael walked over to them, Sloane close behind him. “Everything okay?”
“Absolutely.” Salem’s smile was relaxed.
“Good,” Sloane grumbled. “Because my father is about to lose his temper.”
“We’re ready,” Tegan said confidently. They made their way over to the announcer who watched them with interest. Sloane slipped back into the hall with an encouraging smile to Tegan.
“Principal Elite Salem Holt, with his two Heirs, Michael Joaquin Holt and Tegan…” Salem trailed off.
“Tegan Celeste Novikov… Holt.” Tegan finished for him as she looked at Salem, biting her lip as she was unsure i
f he would allow it. The proud smile he gave her made her stand a little taller.
Salem turned to the announcer. “And Tegan Celeste Novikov Holt.”
The announcer raised an eyebrow but turned to walk through the doors to the main hall. The doors half closed behind him, allowing them to hear him clearly and the sounds of the other guests from within.
“Are you ready?” Salem asked them softly.
Michael and Tegan exchanged a look and then both nodded. Michael reached out and took her hand, Tegan took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“Council Elders, Principal Elders, Elite Elders, Akrhyn…” The announcer’s words were loud and they heard the room settle. “Principal Elite Salem Holt of the Canadian Headquarters and Defender of the Northern Territory.” Salem’s eyes widened at his full formal title but there was little he could do about it now. “With his two Heirs, Michael Joaquin Holt and Elite Sentinel Tegan Celeste Novikov Holt.”
The doors opened fully and Salem walked past the announcer his head high as he led his Heirs into the hall. Michael went to slip his hand from Tegan’s, but she tightened her hold. Smiling a little, Michael and Tegan walked into the hall behind Salem, backs straight, gazes straight ahead. The hall was quiet and when Salem was halfway across the floor, he stopped with Michael and Tegan stopping behind him. The Great Council met them halfway and Salem bowed his head in deference to the Council members.
Council member Warren was a large Akryhn, with a full stomach, his white beard couldn’t hide his grin though. “Well met, Principal Salem,” he laughed in greeting.
The room seemed to burst into life again as the attendees started talking amongst themselves. Tegan felt the eyes on her, but she ignored them, holding tight onto Michael’s hand. A few of the Council members spoke to her and she managed to exchange pleasantries. Michael had not met them before, so Salem took over introductions.
“Am I to be ignored?” Cornelius’s sneer came from behind them. Council Elder Warren turned to him.
“Even when ignored, you simply do not go away,” Warren replied drily.
Cornelius’s laughter was forced. “Always so sharp-witted, Council Elder.” His laughter didn’t reach his eyes. He turned to Tegan, “You are an Ivanov.”
“My mother was an Ivanov,” Tegan answered him confidently. “I honour both my fathers.”
“Your father killed your mother,” Cornelius snapped.
“Now father, let’s not get so excited you start frothing at the mouth,” Cord’s clear voice interrupted them. He held his hand out to Tegan. “Walk with me, my Prime wishes to meet you.”
“Cord, I am not finished.” Cornelius protested angrily.
“You are for now,” Cord bowed his head in deference to the Council Elder and led Tegan away. She didn’t glance back but she wanted to.
“I don’t think you were supposed to do that,” she whispered, still avoiding making eye contact with the curious stares she was still receiving.
“I’m not supposed to do many things,” Cord’s smile was tight and controlled, he patted her hand in his arm.
“You hate being here?” Tegan asked softly.
“Don’t you?” The fact that he didn’t deny it and was so open in his dismissal of the formalities expected of him, made Tegan hide her smile.
“Don’t ever change, Cord.”
“Ha,” he grunted. “You might be the first one to ask that of me.”
“Well then I’m obviously right,” Tegan teased him.
Prime Castor Garrick stood talking to a male in black robes. “Prime Becker, Prime Chernov, may I introduce Elite Sentinel Tegan Novikov-Holt.”
Tegan liked the way that Cord hyphenated her name, fighting the warm flutter she felt at him making another effort to make her comfortable.
“Sentinel Tegan, you have everyone in a flurry of excitement,” the Dark Castor watched her intently.
“It seems so,” she acknowledged solemnly. “I do not know why, I am just an Akrhyn female like most of this room.”
“I don’t think you are just anything,” the Dark Castor watched her closely, his focus shifting onto Cord. “You managed to not wear your robes again.”
“Apparently I am Heir first,” Cord dipped his head acknowledging the admonishment.
“Ridiculous,” the Dark Castor looked away with a frown in Cornelius’s direction. “Your Uncle looks delighted with himself.”
“Maybe he is happy he got such a good turnout after the fear of the last few days,” Tegan answered. There was something unusual about this Castor. Most of the Akrhyn who chose to become Castors, were strange in Tegan’s opinion. However, this tall, slender male in front of her, had her senses prickling.
“What are your thoughts on the Drakhyn appearing at the fence alone?” Prime Chernov asked her. “After all, you talked to it.”
“I think it is a game, and we aren’t out of danger yet,” Tegan answered boldly.
“Is that so?” He held her gaze for a few more minutes, before looking at both Garrick and Cord. “You were right, interesting times indeed.” With a dip of his head he excused himself and walked away.
“Why do I feel like I have just been assessed and… failed?” Tegan asked quietly.
“I’m not sure of the result, but you have been assessed,” Cord replied as he took two flutes of champagne from a passing server. He handed one to Tegan who looked at it in puzzlement. “Tell me you have had champagne before?”
“No, father doesn’t approve of alcohol.”
“In that case, drink up,” Cord’s grin was wicked.
“But perhaps not too eagerly, Sentinel Tegan,” Garrick warned. “The bubbles have a tendency to go straight to your head.” Tegan took a small sip and her nose wrinkled, curious she took another sip. Garrick laughed at her expression. “And that is my call to leave before Salem comes and kills me for allowing his daughter to get drunk.”
Garrick walked away to talk to others, leaving Tegan and Cord alone. “Should I be doing something?” Tegan asked uncertainly.
“I wouldn’t,” Cord scanned the crowd continuously, his manner clearly telling anyone not to come close. A few of the older Akrhyn had tried but his cutting glare had kept them away.
“What do you usually do at these events?” Tegan asked looking over to where Sloane stood, obviously uncomfortable, beside Zahra who was talking animatedly to another male Akrhyn. Tegan looked at Zahra’s dress, a rich wine velvet figure-hugging dress, with a high neck and an equally high split. She wore black heels with ease. Her platinum curls were in soft easy curls framing her face. Zahra laughed at something the male said and turned to swat at him playfully. Tegan noticed her entire dress was backless.
“My brother looks miserable,” Cord said with amusement. He scowled as he looked at Zahra, before looking away again.
“Should we rescue him?” Tegan asked with concern. Sloane met their stares and gave a half-hearted smile.
“You should,” Cord agreed and then walked away from her.
He had barely walked ten steps when Tegan saw the Akrhyn he had been staving off with his natural glare began to descend upon her. She braced herself for the onslaught when a warm hand on her elbow startled her.
“Hey there,” Kai smiled. “Do you want to dance?”
Tegan looked between the oncoming curious Akrhyn and the dance floor. “I have never so badly wanted to dance,” she grinned as he led her to the dance floor.
“Do you remember the steps?” Kai asked her, his eyes filled with laughter.
“Not one of them,” Tegan grinned at him. “I have my combat boots on,” she confessed.
“Arflyn have mercy on my toes,” he grinned as he pulled her towards him, spinning her effortlessly, before taking her into a hold.
“Which one are we doing?” Tegan whispered.
“The waltz, anything else will see me with bruised feet.” Kai quipped. “Just follow my lead, I have you.”
“I thought you were hiding from me,” Tegan teased Kai gen
tly.
“I was. Your brother was looking to remove my head like I was a Drakhyn,” Kai gave a short laugh. “I don’t fancy being portalled into the middle of the woods again either by that Castor.”
“Sorry, Cord can be… impulsive.” Tegan felt guilty. “So, what changed?”
“Have you seen yourself in this dress?” Kai moved back a fraction to look down at her. “You look stunning and I realised I didn’t care how many times the Castor portalled me, I was willing to take the chance.”
Flustered at his honesty, Tegan kept silent. So, he does like me like that, she thought to herself. Then realised she wasn’t that opposed to the attention. Kai was nice, they got on well and he didn’t confuse her senses the way that a certain Crimson Castor did.
They danced across the floor for a few moments, Tegan stepping on his feet a few times, flinching each time she did so. “Why does he stay betrothed to her?” she asked quietly as she watched Sloane stand to the side of Zahra, sipping on a drink, watching her and Kai with a frown.
“She needs him,” Kai replied after a moment of silence. “Her choice of living her life as a human is alien to most Akrhyn.”
Tegan looked over at Zahra, who now had the attention of three Akrhyn males. “She seems fine,” her dry tone betrayed her disapproval.
A commotion at the main hall door had Kai pausing. The announcer stepped forward hastily, away from whoever had just come in. “Elder Tove Brindlelay Delgaard, Protector of the Free Lycan.”
Gasps and murmurs erupted around the hall, as Tove walked in proudly. Tove was almost as reclusive as Leonid, seeing her at a social function was rare. Tegan was surprised at the title bestowed on her friend, eager to know when she gained it – but as Tegan watched Tove move into the hall, she couldn’t deny a title seemed fitting. Tove looked like a queen; her auburn hair was piled high on her head in an elaborate braided crown. Wearing a traditional ballgown of deep emerald with gold accents. Tegan envied her confidence as Tove walked into the hall and watched as Marcus met her halfway on the dancefloor bowing low over her proffered hand. Tove said something quietly to Marcus, her eyes searching the room, landing on Tegan and moving past her. Her gaze narrowed as they landed on Cord and she started walking towards him.
Into Darkness: The Akrhyn Series (Book 1) Page 25
