Thalia stiffened at the mention of her mother and fathers, but the beast was intent on covering his very expensive Brioni trousers with her fur.
"Maybe she's a pet," one of them pointed out. "I don't think she'll leave you alone until you stroke her."
In agreement with the Gamma female, Thalia butted her head against his thigh, a move which caused more chuckles. With a grimace, Rafe squatted and began to curl his hand over the curve of her skull, up to her ears where he scratched.
She nestled closer to him, wanting to roll around in his scent. So close to him, and in this form, it was like bathing in the pure essence of the man.
To a Lyken, scent was more important than sight. Each particular smell had a message, a meaning. By looking at Rafe, she couldn't tell he was Lyken or that he was Gamma, the scent told her that.
And his was different to any other she'd ever smelled.
It reminded her of that first moment when she stood on the cusp of the forest line. One step over and she'd be amid nature. The smells of prey and predator, flowers and plants, the scent of rain and dampness, a scorched perfume from the heat of the sun... that moment before running into the woods, her mind painted a picture. It set a mental scene as she plotted her trajectory. And as she sat so close to Rafe, his scent did the same.
She didn't just see the man, or his wolf. She saw a future. She saw smiles. and laughter, love and lust. Acceptance. Affection. Caring. His scent told her all of that; it wrapped her up in a cocoon of delight and for the first time in her life, she felt safe.
Not physically. She was more than capable of handling herself. Her fathers didn't realize how the years of living in her wolf skin, running with the naturals had changed her, shaped her. Even though they were males, in their prime, the strongest of the strong, Thalia knew that in a one to one battle, she could take them on.
And win.
Her past had forged her. It didn’t matter that she was female, that she was young. It didn’t matter that they were virile males. Her She-Wolf was a beast they’d never come across before; they would be unprepared for the creature’s ferocity. A ferocity that lent itself to the woman.
So, no, her mate didn't make her feel safe in that sense. Not physically, especially not when he was a Gamma, and would be weaker than her. But she knew with him, her heart would be. He wouldn’t trample on her feelings, wouldn't diminish her in the eyes of others.
He would cherish her, and she would cherish him.
And that was a thousand times more vital.
In her life, nobody save her grandparents and her nanny, Marta, had cared for that side of her. She needed it more than she needed a bodyguard for a mate.
Shuddering at the thought, she nuzzled him again. He finally looked at her, his eyes catching hers and he stilled. Just like she had, he froze. Then, he shook his head, and the She-Wolf huffed.
It was the only way Thalia could sigh in this form.
That was the problem with Gammas, none of their senses were particularly strong. A Beta or even an Omega would have sensed she was a Lyken, but Gammas had the least control over their powers. They were as close to humans as could be, but they could shift. Usually only during a full moon, which triggered the change. Same with Omegas.
Alphas and Betas were different. They could shift at will. Some finding the task easier than others, but all capable of shifting as and when they needed to.
Because of their weaker senses, the group had lumped her in as a natural, not scenting the myriad ways in which she was quite definitely Lyken.
He cleared his throat even as their eyes caught and held for endless moments that could have gone on into infinity if she had a say.
"We're to go back to the motel," he informed the group, his voice huskier than before. The confusion at his response to her and his need to direct the females combined into an odd mixture that further affected his words. "The Lunoi has promised to speak to the TriAlpha on our behalf, and she says she'll champion our cause."
Astonished pleasure throbbed through the room, broken only when Lizzie clapped her hands in glee. "Oh my Gods, we did it! We actually did it!"
The women's happy and relieved laughter filled the room, and Thalia could sense Rafe's regret as he put a dampener on it. "There's still no guarantee anything will change, Lizzie."
"Of course not, we're not stupid. But we never even imagined she'd listen to us! Actually listen and react in anything that wasn't in Torres' favor. This is a first step, a step none of us thought would happen, so why shouldn't the second?"
As Thalia processed both Lizzie and Rafe's words, curiosity overcame her. They'd spoken to her mother about a Beta? Considering they were Gammas, and weak ones at that—she meant no offense by calling them weak, even though her She-Wolf certainly did—she could only imagine that the Beta had been using his rank against them.
As they were all women, and from the way they’d been sobbing before she’d arrived, well, it wasn't hard to see how Torres could be dominating them.
Bastard.
High-ranking males were notorious for… She gritted her teeth at the thought, and her She-Wolf let a rumble of displeasure escape. One that, thankfully, slipped the Gammas’ attention due to their ebullient laughter at Rafe’s news.
The Elder's words rang through her mind, though. Abula's fathers had been cruel Alphas, reckless, championing the strong, failing to protect the weak.
In fairness, her fathers weren't reckless or cruel; to her they had been, unnecessarily so, but not to their people. They were, however, guilty of not protecting the weak.
Thalia knew no matter how hard her mother pleaded—and for her to promise to speak to her mates about this situation, then the stories must have been bad—no matter how hard she begged for her mates to change, to help, her fathers wouldn't.
They were stubborn. Set in their ways.
Considering they'd been born in the late eighteen hundreds, well, it was no wonder that they were rigid. Believing in the old ways. But just because something was old, didn’t mean it was right.
As she looked around the room, she remembered the despair etched into each woman's face. Their misery, horror, self-hatred. Now, with the promise of change, their features were aglow with the taste of success.
She couldn't let her fathers destroy that. Not when they were in the wrong with their antiquated and out of touch beliefs.
If these women needed a champion, then she would take on that role.
For them, and for her mate. And, Goddess help her, her people.
4
They tried to leave Thalia behind at the palace, but she wouldn't let them. She kept so close to Rafe that he kept on tripping over her. He'd glare down at the wolf hampering his steps, his eyes connecting with hers, then he'd stop, frown and shake his head.
It was the mate bond at work. Making him question himself, especially as they believed she was a natural wolf. He probably thought he was mated to a feral. That was why he was glowering so much all the while he’d return to stroking the silky fur atop her head.
The thought made her smile, but also made her feel guilty. She thought about shifting, about telling them who she was and especially what she was to Rafe, but...
She didn't.
There was a minibus outside the palace, waiting with its engine purring. The females climbed on, so did Rafe, and she went too, refusing the two times he attempted to pick up two hundred pounds of struggling She-Wolf to let him leave her behind.
As it was, by the time the bus set off and they'd trundled through the gates on to the open road, with Thalia perched beside Rafe, security had finally noticed the lone wolf roaming around the palace.
So long suckers, she thought gleefully, seeing guards rush out into the courtyard on the hunt for the beast, before she turned her attention back to the road.
To say she glued her nose to the window in no way described how she soaked up her first trip out of the palace. A trip that was nearly nine years in the making. Even the first half-h
our, where they just drove down back roads on their way to the largest town, she was enthralled.
Gods, it had been so long since she'd even seen a frickin' Mickey D’s! Her mouth drooled at the prospect of a burger; it didn't matter the chefs at the palace had won awards, she wanted grease. She wanted fat. She wanted it now.
Poor little rich girl, she thought to herself wryly, but shook it off.
As they drove past one of the fast food joints an hour later, she whined mournfully, and Rafe must have realized where she was looking, because he chuckled. Seated so close to him as she looked around, she was in heaven because Gods, he smelled so good.
Better than a Big Mac would even taste. And that was why she’d done this; Thalia knew she'd started something here. Something she couldn’t foresee ending well.
Not only would the palace call the alarm when they discovered she wasn't where she ought to be... in fairness that could be days as she did have the habit of going off in her wolf skin for up to a week at a time... but getting Rafe to realize who he was to her was the most worrisome aspect.
If she shifted in his quarters, would he freak out about some random woman stalking him to his hotel room?
It wasn't the best way to introduce herself.
Shit.
He wouldn't know who she was. He wouldn't realize she was the TriAlpha's daughter, because she hadn't been in the public eye since her first heat. Her image hadn’t been public fodder for years; he wouldn’t have a clue she was Thalia Lyndhoven. Would just think she was some crazy who’d stalked him as a wolf!
But while that notion made her cringe, the idea of getting to know him without the heavy weight of her title seemed like a luxury.
Was it fair, though?
She didn't have just the one mate. She had three. She needed to tell him that, share that salient point. Otherwise, she'd be lying to him. By omission, but still, that was a lie too.
She turned her head away from the roads and nuzzled into him again. Her She-Wolf was coping with the close proximity simply because he kept on stroking her. Otherwise, she'd have been driving Thalia nuts with the need to mate. Already, urges were riding the bitch, but Thalia’s thoughts were jumbled enough to keep things relatively calm on the endless bus journey. A journey that took close to two hours because the palace was in the middle of nowhere.
Literally.
On a private reserve that took thirty minutes to leave, then even as the smaller towns appeared, they were also Lyken-held. Entering territory owned by the humans took an age.
As the bus pulled up outside a motel, and the women started to descend and head toward their rooms, she looked expectantly at Rafe, who sighed and did the same.
In the parking lot, they gathered around once the bus took off and Rafe said, "Ladies, there's nothing more to be done until we hear back from the palace. So, you might as well enjoy the town. I'll be attending the Centennial festival, and I'd love company."
Crap. The festival. She'd forgotten about that; mostly because it was no skin off her nose if hundreds of thousands of Lykens came together for the four-day holiday. She was never allowed to attend, so the anniversary didn’t affect her. Although, this year, it would probably be different because of the Elder’s intervention.
At least, she hoped so now Rafe was at her side.
Would he attend with her?
The prospect cheered her endlessly.
As a child, the Centennial, a festival celebrating the day her fathers had come of age—for Lyken males, the fortieth birthday was the equivalent of a Jewish boy finally having a Bar Mitzvah—had always been a total drudge.
For a party that celebrated her fathers, it wasn’t much fun for them or their family. It was for the people, their pack. A chance for them to congregate, to see the leaders, to get together and to be among their own kind, which enabled a kind of freedom that Lykens rarely got to experience.
With Rafe, though, Thalia knew it would be different. She’d see it through his eyes, would be able to ignore the duties that came as part of her position, responsibilities that she knew would start up again now the Elder had declared her ‘fit for business’.
Her thoughts were muddled as she followed him to his room. As she peered around, she absorbed facts that both woman and beast found confusing.
His clothes were expensive. His haircut was fine, costly. His shoes were hand-tooled like her fathers’.
He had money.
But he was a Gamma.
The Gamma females wore cheap trousers and shirts, their shoes scuffed even if Thalia knew they’d dressed up as much as their bank balances would allow.
Gammas worked menial jobs. They existed, and rarely above the poverty line; an injustice that never failed to make her stomach twist with the unfairness of it.
But Rafe, also a Gamma, wasn’t on the poverty line. That was very evident. And yet, here they were in a motel. A motel that looked like drug runners frequented the place, and where prostitutes might hire the rooms out for the hour.
The two-story building was ratty and dilapidated. In desperate need of some paint. The outer corridor, exposed to the elements, looked out onto the parking lot and a nasty field that had a few wrecked cars on it. The Gods only knew what beauty the rooms themselves looked onto, if they even had a view.
It was hard to imagine her mate staying in a place like this. But then, it was the Centennial festival, and they were a large group… Rooms were sparse, and decent hotels were few and far between. Locals opened up their houses to out-of-towners to make a quick buck on their spare bedrooms. Still, he could have left the females here, gone on to a more expensive hotel back in the city and stayed there by himself.
It was a measure of the man that he remained in this place, a place that was so below his means that the trousers he wore would probably pay for a month’s rent on the undoubtedly skanky room he’d hired for the few days of his visit.
As they traipsed up some concrete steps to the second floor, then headed down the exposed hallway to a door at the middle of the block, he carried on flashing her concerned glances.
Those glances amused her even as they had guilt winging its way through her system. She shrugged it off though, knowing the situation had dictated her behavior. Still, those glances were concerned as he questioned why she'd become so attached to him—in response, Thalia just butted his hand with her head, silently urging him to continue.
When they reached his bedroom, which consisted of two queen beds, a writing desk with more scores on its surface than a cat’s scratching post, and a TV complete with wire antenna, she had a decision to make.
To shift or not to shift.
That was the question.
And the question was answered when he started to strip out of his rather yummy suit. At the sight of abs that rippled as he maneuvered out of his shirt, she yipped.
And Gods help her, it sounded encouraging.
As Hot Chocolate's “I believe in miracles” started playing in her mind, Rafe stared at her, his fingers frozen on his belt buckle, on the brink of flinging it on the floral bed covers that had seen more years than she had.
She stared at him, knowing there was no way she would be able to control herself or the wolf if he stripped. It was a do or die moment, and now, with her mate a few feet away, there was no way in fuck she was going to die.
She shifted.
In less than two seconds, where a wolf had once stood, a naked woman took her place.
Rafe's reaction wasn't what she expected.
He dragged the shirt up and over his chest, as though covering his modesty.
She couldn't help laughing at the maidenly act and when he looked offended, slapped a hand over her mouth.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled behind her fingers. "It just came out."
"Well, it can just go back in. Who the hell are you? Why did you follow us from the palace?" He paused, and eyes widening, blurted out, "Sweet Gods, are we going to be arrested for kidnapping?"
Thalia rolled her
eyes. "I'm not a minor, Rafe."
“You look it. How old are you?” Then, he scowled at her, and after spending two hours with him frowning down at her, she realized she was getting tired of him glowering at her. "How do you know my name?"
"I've been with you since the palace," she told him drily. “I can hear in my wolf skin. The females called you it often enough for me to come to the difficult conclusion that it was your name.”
He grunted, and in fairness, did look freaked out. He stared at her, really stared at her, his eyes not moving from her face for a good two minutes even as his muscles bulged with the tense way he was holding himself. Her vision, a hundred times better than twenty-twenty, saw the small hairs on his body, saw they were erect; standing to attention at her proximity, at what her presence in his bedroom might mean to him.
Those two minutes were enough for a fine layer of gooseflesh to swirl across her flesh, making every inch of her so damned sensitive she felt like if he touched her, she'd cry out or whimper.
And she was not the whimpering kind.
Suddenly, he swallowed and shook his head, and she knew he felt the mate bond slotting into place.
"Do you work at the palace?" he asked, sounding hopeful.
She could have lied. She could have gone for anonymity; a chance to start a relationship with her mate on a level footing; with no thoughts of her past, or her family to get in the way.
But she couldn't. It was no way to start their relationship with lies between them. Thalia had already muddled things by approaching him in her wolf skin. Circumstances had dictated that was how they meet, but they wouldn’t have her lying to him further—not when his fear flooded the room with a tang so sharp, it almost overwhelmed his beautiful, lickable, I-wanna-roll-all-up-in-his-face scent.
Gods, how she wished she was a member of the staff! That wish made her tone deepen with regret. "No. I live there."
His eyes widened. "You're one of the councilors’ daughters?"
Trinity (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 1) Page 7