Trinity (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 1)

by Serena Akeroyd

  Which meant there was a gang of Beta and potentially Omega males running around Rafe’s pack beating and raping Gammas.

  And from his tone, they didn’t just beat him. They nearly fucking killed him, and only his shame in admitting as much to her, to anyone, softened his words.

  Any lingering fatigue immediately dissipated at the idea of her mate being set upon by a higher ranking wolf and being beaten to within an inch of his life. Her She-Wolf rattled around inside her, venting her fury at such a prospect.

  "I'll kill him," she said simply, so simply Rafe's head reared back, his eyes wide.

  "No! You don't have to do that. He just needs to be taught a lesson."

  "There is no stronger way to teach a lesson than by showing we mean business. We need to set an example."

  "Couldn't we just..." He shook his head, seeking a solution. When he couldn't come up with one, he blurted out, "I can't let you kill him. My work is saving people's lives; not taking them."

  "You can say that after he has raped so many women? Abused and assaulted them, beat countless Gamma males? You don't think that's a weakness in your pack that needs to be annihilated? Just because he’s a strong male doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to be culled from the pack—weaknesses come in many shapes and sizes, Rafe. So do strengths," she added gently, but she knew he wouldn’t hear the reference to himself.

  She’d known her mate less than two hundred minutes and already she knew his shame at being Gamma was bone deep. It scored his very soul. And that was so beyond wrong.

  What were they doing to their people? Making a huge group ashamed of themselves at a level that went gene-deep? Yeah, that was something to be proud of. Fuck.

  "No,” he told her, sounding more fierce now than he had since they’d met. “I don't think that’s the way to go. I think we need to figure out a means of safeguarding the people who need to be protected from bastards like Jason Torres. As well as a means of making sure his kind is punished for what they do. Gammas shouldn’t have to go to the TriAlpha’s damn court just to get help. That isn’t right, Thalia," he told her earnestly. “There are always bad eggs in every dozen. That’s not the issue here.”

  She studied him for a second, absorbing the ease in which he said the words. They weren't platitudes, they weren't trying to convince her of anything. It was what he believed. What he thought was right.

  She huffed a little, more out of amusement than irritation. "I can see why the Mother matched us."

  He frowned, not understanding her change of topic. "You can?"

  She smiled, nodded. "To cure me of my bloodthirsty ways. You'll probably have to be patient with me; I hope I don't irritate you too much." She meant it too. Though a glass half-full person by nature, experience and her time with the naturals had changed her.

  Things were cut and dry for her, just as they were for the ferals. There was no gray in the black and white of survival.

  Some bastard raped a woman? He needed his cock cutting off.

  That kind of simple.

  "Gods, I think I'm the luckiest man alive." He blew out a breath, looking astonished by her remark.

  Her grin was cheeky. "Hardly; you've only known me a little while. I haven't really had a chance to piss you off yet. I always get on my fathers' nerves." She shrugged it off, even though it was the truth, and it hurt. "They don't particularly like me."

  "Join the club," he murmured, and pressed a kiss to her temple. "These last few hours have certainly been different. I can see you're going to shake things up for me." He grinned, and it was like the sun was peering through the clouds after a storm—she could tell its presence surprised even him. "About damn time, too,” he said softly, then his tone changed, became brisk, “Now, before more members of the TriAlpha hit squad bear down on us again, I think we should get moving."

  "I'll shift. I don't have to worry about clothes then. Do you have a shirt I could borrow? As soon as we reach the palace, I'll have to answer to them. If I'm naked, they'll just be even more pissed off with me. Especially if the council are there."

  He cocked a brow, but his eyes were wide with astonishment. "You regularly stand naked in front of the council?"

  "The bunch of perverts get off on it."

  "Yeah, well, let's not have them getting off on something that belongs to me."

  She chuckled, but she liked the sudden flash of fire in his eyes. "Oh, Mr. Possessive." Thalia winked as she stood, but her words had a grimace passing over his features. "Don’t worry. It’s mutual. I think my She-Wolf would go nuts if anyone saw you nude."

  "Ah, the joys of mated life," he teased her, and the balance between somberness and joviality in his nature pleased her greatly.

  Her grin turned into a belly laugh, and not for the first time in the little of it they'd had together, she knew this man was a perfect match for her.

  The thought warmed and excited her.

  Life was going to get better, and if not on a grand scale, it was certainly going to get interesting. This morning, interesting was way more than she could ever have expected.

  6

  "I would like to speak to your mate, Thalia," the Elder's words greeted them from the atrium. "Alone."

  They'd only just crossed the damn threshold and already they were trying to split them up. Just as she’d predicted on the cab ride over here.

  They, of course, being her dick fathers, as Thalia had already called them at least a dozen times in the hellishly long journey to the palace.

  "Elder, I'm hesitant to leave my mate alone. After what just happened in his motel room, I'm not sure he's safe within these palace walls."

  Being a few dozen feet away from an Elder was not an everyday occurrence for Rafe. He could feel the man's age, for his ancientness seemed to disturb the air around him. As though the hands of time were outraged by his ignoring them. He was a source of turbulence Rafe, who was sensitive to such things, had never encountered before.

  Wondering if the reason the man’s presence set his nerves on edge was because his healing gifts wanted to come to the fore, he watched as the Elder waved a hand, and from the cavernous cloak that shrouded him, came a snort.

  Well, hell, that was the last thing Rafe had expected.

  Elders were somber. Serious. Their opinions could change society. Every word held weight.

  Yet this one snorted out a disparaging laugh? What did he do for a final act? Blow raspberries?

  "Think you I act for your fathers, Thalia? I act for the good of Lyken kind. It is they, the people, to whom I answer, not your fathers. I simply want a word with him," the Elder told them both, but his gaze was no longer fixed on her but on Rafe.

  Great.

  Any other time, he'd have loved to speak with an Elder. To share wisdom. To pass the time. Even to discuss his talents at healing; to learn if his gifts were normal. If they could be enhanced or strengthened in some way. But Gammas were rarely invited to functions where an Elder could be approached. Even at festivals, the Alphas and Betas tended to take up their time. And if not, the Elders focused on the children. Wanting to pass down centuries’ worth of wisdom to the next generation.

  This should have been an opportunity, but instead, it felt like a punishment.

  Regardless, whatever Elders wanted, they got. So, trying to calm his bristling mate whose hair looked close to standing on edge in agitation, his tone was soothing as he murmured, “It's okay, Thalia. If the Elder wishes to speak with me, then I'm humbled at the opportunity.” He cleared his throat as he turned to the precious male before him. “I need to make arrangements for the females who traveled with me to Oregon, Thalia. They’re at the motel and they won’t do well without my being there.”

  She clutched his hand with both of hers, her grip so tight she was unintentionally hurting him—because, shit, she was strong. He didn't flush, just tilted his head to buss her forehead with a kiss.

  It was strange how natural that felt, how easy.

  This morning, he'd been a Gamma.
An unusual one, granted. But the lowest of the low nonetheless. He'd been petitioning the Lunoi for her aid. He'd been weak, the lesser man.

  Now, he was mated. Now, he was related to the Lunoi.

  Gods help him.

  Although, hadn’t they already?

  A Lyken could pass a hundred years and still see no sign of their mate; they could die without having met them. He'd been blessed to find his so early. Fifty-eight was the human equivalent of the mid-thirties. He was young and had so much time left with her.

  The prospect filled him with gratitude and gave him courage where there had been doubt before.

  He knew, knew, that had an Elder approached him this morning, he'd have probably frozen. Eventually, he'd have handled the situation, but inside, he'd have been quaking.

  Yet now, with Thalia at his side, he could deal with this.

  The Mother had been kind enough to give him a Royal Flush—literally—and those were odds he could work with.

  "I'll be fine," he told her, feeling her nerves, her tension and fear for him.

  He wished she didn't have to feel that way. That he was the Alpha she deserved, a man who would and could protect her, but he wasn't. It galled him, the idea of sharing a mate, but in this instance, he knew the Mother was a wise and benevolent being. For all his weaknesses, he prayed that the other males who would become Thalia’s mates made up for what he lacked.

  "Elder, I'm trusting you with my life here," she warned the man, who was so much more than just a Lyken now. He was a blessed spirit, who the Mother’s love had touched.

  Her irreverence terrified and amused Rafe. She had the balls he should have been born with.

  "I shall forgive you your rudeness because I understand. I also know what your fathers did by sending the guards after you." He sniffed, his disapproval evident. "Against my wishes, I'll have you know," he told her in his singsong voice.

  "I appreciate your vote of confidence, Elder. And I truly apologize if I've caused you any offense," she said, more cautiously now.

  He waved his hand, and Rafe saw that the bony joints were covered with aged skin so fine to be as thin as paper, and creased with the lines of time scored into them. Mother, it looked more delicate than fine bone china.

  "It takes more to offend me than that,” the Elder murmured, “however, there is strict protocol to follow. Your fathers have been living under an assumption, Thalia. Ever since your birth, they have believed themselves to be failures. To have failed their family, to have failed themselves, and to have failed their people. You should be kinder to them. Or at least, try to have more patience.

  "All of you have learned a lot this morning. It takes time to process it. Time to understand. They were just acting on instinct. I'm afraid that instinct will make them angry with you. Angering them further would not be wise," he warned.

  "I shall tread carefully," she murmured, and with the formal phrasing of her words, he saw the difference between the cheeky brat who had writhed beneath him, wriggling and rippling around him until he thought he’d die from the pleasure of being inside her, into a creature that could rule the largest pack in the Western Hemisphere. “Don’t worry,” she told Rafe, breaking into his thoughts and changing the subject at the same time. “I’ll handle the Gamma females. I’ll arrange for transport for them to the airport if that’s where they want to go once they know what’s happening with you.”

  He blinked, realizing from her words, he’d be staying here.

  Well, duh, he thought drily. Where the hell else did he want to be?

  “They were supposed to go to the Centennial with me,” he inserted quickly, casting the Elder a glance in apology.

  Thalia shrugged. “They can still go. W-We’ll have to do things differently though.”

  “Differently?” He didn’t mind, was just curious.

  “I’m not sure if…” She bit down on that plump lower lip of hers, making him want to grab her and drag her into him. “I might not be able to go. Y-You always could though. With the other females.”

  This woman. Gods. What she did to him.

  How could she be so strong and self-assured one moment, regal to her bones and arrogant with it, then utterly self-effacing and unsure and naïve.

  Proud to be her mate, he reached for her. When she came easily, he tightened his hold on her and she sighed in his embrace. “We stick together from now on.” His words came with a fierceness that surprised him, but it was important she understand.

  They were a unit; and no one, not even the Tri Alpha themselves, would tear them asunder.

  Ever.

  Tension drained from her in a way that made him realize how deeply this connection was shared. Rank didn’t matter worth a damn in their tiny circle, he knew, and found himself bewildered by it. When hadn’t his ranking been important? Never. And yet, here he was, with the fourth most powerful Lyken in the nation, and his being Gamma was irrelevant.

  The Elder’s bony hand came to touch his shoulder. When he jolted, he turned to look at the male who nodded once he knew Rafe’s attention was on him. "Come. I wish to speak to you, mate of Thalia Lyndhoven."

  Rafe stepped forward, tugging at Thalia's still-clinging hold. He could sense her terror that if she let go, he'd somehow disappear. He felt it to a lesser degree, but the nerves were there too. He realized that in some ways his mate's youth as well as her experiences had formed her into the woman who was standing here today, and that he would have to tread cautiously if he wished to understand why she did what she did, or why she said what she said.

  On the surface, she was a brat. He'd seen that. Noticed it, and been amused by it. Underneath, as he'd just witnessed with her interplay with the Elder, she could be brusque and rude, yet all of it was tempered by a formality that had been bred into her bones. She was regal at her core, and life had morphed that into something she’d have to monitor if she wanted to rule the North American Lyken Pack. But, where he was concerned, she was scared to lose him, and her vulnerability brought out his protective instincts.

  When she realized he wasn’t going to pull away or break the hold she had on him, she blew out a shaky breath. His contentment to maintain the bridge of their fingers seemed to strengthen her resolve, and as her hand pulled away from his, he turned to smile at her, hoping to encourage her and make her less fearful.

  When it didn't work, the corner of his mouth quirked up, and somehow, that did the trick. She bit her lip but nodded. Almost as though he'd silently communicated something to her. Which he hadn’t.

  Or at least, he didn’t think he had.

  Still, the inner turmoil inside her set his healing instincts on red alert, and as he moved toward the Elder, he made sure to turn back to her, to nod encouragingly at her. He was okay, he tried to transmit, but she still looked like a little girl at the school gates on her first day at kindergarten.

  Unable to bear it, to withstand the mournful fear that had her mouth trembling, he returned to her side. Cupping her face gently, he tilted her head to the perfect angle and kissed her. She breathed into the kiss, softening against him with a shaky sigh that filled him with the need to protect her, to keep her safe. Even if it was from herself.

  As he swept his tongue into her mouth, he played with her, teased her into responding. When she began to kiss him back, the Elder cleared his throat, breaking the moment.

  Still, he didn’t pull away immediately. He dotted a gentle kiss on her Cupid’s bow, then popped one on the tip of her nose. “It’s okay,” he reassured her. “I’ll be fine.” It stung that she was worried for him because of his rank, but that was something he’d have to deal with on his own.

  She was frightened for him. Nervous for him. And that, he realized, was the insanity of the mate bond.

  Where once they’d been two entities, now they were one.

  “Go and deal with whatever needs to be done, sweetheart,” he told her softly, his voice a low rasp as he ran his nose down her cheek. “I’ll be more than occupied with the
Elder. I’ve never spoken to one before.”

  She laughed as he’d intended her to, amused by his excitement at speaking with the man waiting patiently at his back. Her hand came up to cup his jaw. “If you’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.” He cupped her wrist, turned her hand, then kissed her knuckles. “I’ll see you shortly.” He stared into her eyes, focusing on the restless anxiety in those startling light blue orbs, and sought peace for her sake.

  The nod, when it came, was stronger than before and, with a smile, he winked and headed back to the Elder, his interest focused on the cavernous folds that shielded the man from the world’s eye.

  As a kid, he'd thought there'd been monsters underneath those hoods. Either that, or skeletons. His mom had had a hard time convincing him Elders weren't the Grim Reaper.

  This one, in his ruby red robes, a stooped back, and a sense of humor, was a fellow Lyken, just an usual one. Hell, he was used to that. What was he if not an unusual Gamma? Exactly as Thalia had told him many times this afternoon, as her mother had told him this morning.

  Apparently, weird was the new black.

  The sound of bare feet padding away told him Thalia had gone, and he turned back to see the flapping hem of his dress shirt skirting around her thighs. The stark white was a delicious contrast to her creamy gold skin, and the startling white blond hair that swung down to her hips was just as eye-catching.

  The Elder cleared his throat, jerking Rafe’s attention his way.

  Grunting at being caught, he watched as a bony finger beckoned him. "Come, walk with me."

  Mouth working, Rafe hesitated. All his life, he'd had to walk behind others in the pack. Trail in their wake, and usually finding it hard to keep up.

  The Elder's intention for him to walk at his side astounded him.

  Hell, if the ancient Lyken had punched him in the gut, he'd be less surprised.

  The Elder just waited, patiently at first, then, he shifted his robes slightly, and Rafe was looking at a walking skeleton when the folds fell flat against his form.