He blinked back the images that came from childhood nightmares and saw the man staring back at him.
He was thin. Uncomfortably so. Rafe imagined that underneath the robe, he would literally be skin and bone. Aside from his flesh being old, creased with time, it had a flush of good health to it. His eyes were luminescent and beautiful. Truly stunning. They seemed to hold the wisdom of ages. Aware of the vagaries of man and beast, having seen it all, and still around to see some more, and share his knowledge with his people.
At the trust imbued in that baring, of his cloaks falling against his bony slenderness, and of having seen the truth of the Elder, he stepped forward and stood by the man's side.
"That's better," the ancient Lyken murmured. "You're not the wolf you were this morning, Raphael."
He had that right. Still, he cocked a brow. "How do you know my name, sir?"
"Security checks have their uses."
"Oh."
The Elder chuckled. "Don't sound so disappointed, boy. I'm not a magician with a box of magic tricks. And you needn't call me 'sir' or 'Elder'. I have a given name, even though few use it. My name is Bahkir. And let's have no discomfort. I wish to speak to you about a personal and complex matter. Formality can be set aside when needs must, and we most definitely need to speak bluntly."
Chastened, he ducked his head. "No, I'm sorry, Elder." When Bahkir cleared his throat, Rafe muttered, "Bahkir. And I know you're right. Everything is a little confusing at the moment."
The bony shoulder shrugged. "It is true, though, is it not? You are a different man to this morning?"
Rafe huffed out a laugh. "It's most definitely true. To the Mother, I can't believe the difference."
"You have been blessed with a beautiful mate."
"I know," he retorted, aware of the reverence in his tone. He'd only been with Thalia for hours, but already, the mate bond had snapped into place. Soon would come more than just lust, love would settle in his soul just as the bond had.
At this moment in time, he was just aware his entire being was reeling with her presence in his life.
"But then, she is also blessed."
The words were jarring, and Rafe grated out, "I hardly think so. If anything, I'm the runt of the litter. Hardly fit to be in her company, never mind be her mate."
Another shake of the hand. "The Mother works in mysterious ways, Raphael. She makes choices, decisions on our behalf, that might make no sense to us, but in the long run, will all fit together as it was meant to be. Especially where the mates of leaders are concerned. She takes great care with them." He sighed. "Time means nothing when you have seen as many years as I have, Raphael. It slips through your fingertips at your age. A decade seeming to last a century. But for me, that is not the case. A decade passes by as though the minute hand on a clock had moved a handful of times.
"Had I realized the North American TriAlpha had borne a girl child, I would have come here immediately. Told them my tale, helped them to understand that they had not shamed their lineage; if anything, they had produced a child that would see in a new era.
"As it is, fear and humiliation have created an untenable situation. Fathers and daughter barely speaking. Tension in the air, throbbing like thunder with each moment spent in the other's company... And from nothing more than a misunderstanding."
Rafe processed all that, absorbing everything since Thalia had told him precious little. Still, one thing didn’t make sense… "Forgive me, Elder. Why weren't you aware? The papers at the time were full of it. You can imagine how the gossip rags ran with the story of the Lunoi giving birth to a daughter."
Agitation made the robes ripple as Bahkir twitched into movement. With Rafe still at his side, they began to stroll down a long walkway that was lined with a royal blue carpet and had ancient tapestries filling the walls.
Even as Rafe was awed by their location, even as he wanted to gape at the rich history of his kind, he couldn’t. He focused, and despite his love for history, nothing was more interesting than his mate.
"I was cloistered in a monastery in Quebec. For forty years," he murmured, shaking his head. But self-deprecation laced his tone, as well as discontent. "Forty minutes might as well have passed between my arrival at the monastery and the Mother coming to me during prayer. She gave me a task. Undoubtedly, this will be the challenge of my lifetime, and the last." He sighed, as though the prospect pleased him. His words confirmed it. "It is time. I am one of the eldest, you know. I have seen too much, experienced many lifetimes. I'm ready, but I cannot pass until the Mother is pleased with me. I must make amends for Thalia; must make her family see her as more than the ugly duckling. Do you understand?"
"I think so," Rafe murmured. "It's a shame that she'll be presenting them with a mate like me. Whatever you say, Elder, they will not be pleased to welcome such a low rank to the folds."
"No, but they will soon learn. As they should have learned when Thalia was born, instead of casting her aside, labeling her an exile. They have felt the burn of my wrath, I can assure you."
"Thalia hasn't said much." Rafe scratched his nose. "Well, you can understand why."
The Elder laughed, and the robes rippled and shook again. "I too had a mate, once. Yes, I understand the thrall of the mate bond."
"Well, after her fathers sicced the SWAT guys on us, bursting into my room like I was a drug lord, she..."
"Go on, child. What did she do?"
"Half-shifted, Elder." His words were almost a whisper.
The Elder just nodded. "I wondered if she'd have that gift."
The other man's easy acceptance of a truth that was astounding to him, made him wonder what other tricks Thalia had tucked under her belt. "Well, I can assure you, she does. They were coming to take me away, I think. She went crazy; attacked one of the team. But they left afterward. Not really hurt. She collapsed afterward, I'm sure that's the only reason she mentioned being locked in at all otherwise I probably wouldn’t know."
The Elder nodded. "It has been difficult to ascertain the whys and the why nots, as the TriAlpha are rather closemouthed. They’re now aware they need to speak to me of these matters, so I have some of the details just not all of them.
"You're a doctor, are you not, Raphael?" He waited for Rafe's nod, before continuing, "Then you'll know a Lyken female enters the stage where she'll have heats in her early twenties. Thalia experienced hers at sixteen."
Rafe whistled, then winced in sympathy for what she’d endured. He ran a hand through his hair, his own agitation coming to the fore. "That's more than unusual. Poor Thalia." He grimaced, having had to treat a few girls who had come into their heats early, at nineteen and twenty respectively.
They had been more aggressive; prone to fighting and causing trouble. This was only because Lyken tradition said that a girl could only sleep with a male once she reached twenty-four. Had they been able to fuck whoever they wanted, then his patients would have been fine. Having to endure the heats with no release had caused their personalities to change. The wolf becoming more present in their day to day life.
Now that he thought about it, Thalia shared similar traits.
He'd seen her pause, eyes turning inward somehow, and he knew she was communicating with her She-Wolf.
"Exactly," the Elder commented darkly. His bony fingers snapped out to grab a hold of Rafe’s arm. He dragged him to a halt, just as they approached a portrait of Leonard Jessop—a famous Elder who was ensconced in royal blue robes. "And it gets worse. She has monthly heats."
"Gods!" Any thoughts of Leonard Jessop, the renowned healer, immediately dispersed. Because what Thalia had endured was rare. Caelus, he’d only ever heard of a few cases globally. Never mind on a national level.
"And even though she told them, they didn't believe her. Didn't even send a healer to her for confirmation. They believed she was attention seeking." He snorted. "Can you imagine such idiocy?"
Rage started to flood his system at the idea of his mate suffering and her family
doing nothing to aid her. Before the anger could take hold, the Elder continued, "Add to that visions of her mates, usually during sex..."
And that pushed the wind out of his sails. "It's a wonder she hasn't killed someone!"
The heats were intense four-day experiences. A Lyken female needed male seed. It was the only way to relieve the feral desires coursing through her system. A system that was made for breeding. Optimized for maximum chance of the female begetting a child. As with every other part of their body, the Lyken reproductive system was far more aggressive than that of a human’s.
Without sex, without the semen and without the orgasms... Fuck, she must have been in living hell, and he found himself aching for her. Wincing, because it was a wonder she wasn’t feral.
"She is very aggressive. That’s something anyone can see in the blink of an eye," the Elder said slowly, his words musing. "We can only be thankful that she has not completely devolved. Even if our society didn't shy away from our girls seeking sexual congress until their first step into adulthood, her She-Wolf wouldn't have allowed it. Not with the link she has between her mates and herself."
Rafe frowned. Uncomfortable with the idea of her having ‘seen’ him fucking another woman. Not that he understood why. Or how.
But then, why would he?
This was all just one humongous pile of crazy.
The only thing he did know was he wanted to reassure Thalia that a female she might have seen him with, had meant nothing to him, but he couldn’t even do that. In the last ten years, he'd been in two relationships. Each of them happy. They'd only ended when both sides had agreed they wanted to seek their mates.
It was stupid to feel guilty for causing her sorrow, especially when it wasn't his fault, but even so... monthly heats, from sixteen, and visions—at least he assumed they were visions, or maybe dreams of her mates fucking other women? Either way, it was a wonder she wasn't drooling at the mouth and snapping at everyone that walked by.
Seeing that his audience was suitably awed by his mate's strength of resolve, the Elder murmured, "I'm not telling you any of this to upset you, or to confront Thalia over it... if anything, I'm doing it to save you from that conversation.
"You might think yourself an unsuitable mate for Thalia, but consider her situation now. Would she be able to handle an Alpha? One who made demands on her? Who was too arrogant to try to understand his very sensitive mate? Or would she do better with a Gamma who is no Gamma in truth?
"You have a hard task ahead of you, my friend. The Mother chose well, for you're a doctor, but more importantly, you're a healer. I sensed it the minute you stepped into the hall." The Elder paused and turned to him. Those ancient eyes of his connected with Rafe's, and there was a smile in their depths. "Even if you weren’t Thalia’s mate, you would have been on the road to being an Elder. Of that, I can assure you.
"You throb with power, Raphael. It is simply a power that cannot be measured by the usual pack methods. It is true, you're a weak rank. But then, rank is not everything.
"You were not made to fight. You were not made to kill, but to heal, and your mate will be your biggest challenge. She is in need of healing. Of acceptance. Of being loved."
Reeling at the Elder's words, Rafe pressed his back against the wall, on a spare foot of space that wasn’t lined with a portrait or a photograph or a tapestry, and leaned on it for support. "Surely you're mistaken, Elder?"
"It has not been unknown for me to make a mistake. I am capable of error, but in this, I'm not. Your soul speaks to mine. The Mother is our translator."
"H-How can I help Thalia?" Rafe asked, legs feeling weak from the Elder's surety. All around him, time seemed to have slowed. The Elder’s words were ricocheting around his brain like a bullet gone wild, splintering here and there in an effort to process the magnitude of what he was hearing.
A Gamma who isn’t a Gamma.
…the road to being an Elder.
You throb with power…
How could he be all that when he couldn’t even defend or protect his mate from the guards her fathers sicced on them?
"Be there for her, Rafe,” Bahkir said, seeming to read his mind. Seeming to sense his disbelief. “She has no need of your fists, but of your healing spirit. She requires every drop of compassion and gentleness you have to give. Already, from this morning, I can sense a difference in her. A tiny slither of peace amid the chaos her life has been. For the moment, that is enough. She will be cautious around you, and she will be aggressive. You must be aware of that. Her She-Wolf has been her savior these last few years, where her family has been of no help.
"From what the guards have told me today, she spends a lot of time in her wolf skin, on top of that, there is a pack of naturals in the woods behind the property. She has made a place for herself amid them."
"It's a miracle she isn't feral," Rafe grunted, voicing the words now anger began to overcome his shock at the way his mate had been treated.
"It is indeed. But it tells you how strong your mate is, Raphael. You know the naturals only accept the strongest and truest wolves. She is an incredible creature and she is the key to the next generation, but she is nothing without you." For the first time, the Elder hesitated. "You are aware she will have more than one mate?"
“Yes. She told me.” His tone was bland; in the grand scheme of things, after what he’d just learned, his having to share her meant little. Nothing mattered save her comfort.
"There will be three. Through her, the Mother has shown me, you will be an unconventional TriAlpha."
That, more than anything, was a hammer blow to his solar plexus. "Me? TriAlpha?" He was ashamed to admit it, but his voice had definitely turned into a squeak.
The Elder smiled. "You are perfect for the role; you simply don't know it yet. The Gods make no mistakes in these things. But when you meet her mates, you must accept them. Your wolf must embrace them. I can only hope you have enough time with Thalia, alone, to soothe and heal her restless soul. You will cure her with your heart, Raphael. And she will cure you of your doubts. With her, you will grow into the role you were born to have.
"Remember, child, she is the key. But without you, there is no lock."
7
"How dare you sneak out of the palace in such a way!"
Luca's words hit her the instant the doors to the council chambers closed behind her. Damien and Adam were seated, but Luca was standing, and striding back and forth on the dais as was usually his way when she was in for a lecture. It was like he had to pace to burn off his rage, a rage that had been born the exact moment he’d learned he’d be having a girl child and not three sons.
Even from a distance, the thirty feet between the chamber doors and the thrones, she could scent his fury, his humiliation at her sneaking off.
Any other Lyken, save her other fathers, would have shrunk in on themselves at his rage. His temper eating into them, the words like knives aiming and seeking maximum damage. For herself? She wasn’t affected. Their rages had ceased touching her a long time ago.
They cowed her only through duty.
A duty to not shame the seat upon which they sat, a duty to protect the people of her nation.
Her tone reflected that: "I'm a grown woman. I no longer have to answer to you."
"You live under this roof, Thalia."
"I'm no longer a teenager, father," she spat, then reigned it in, trying to heed the Elder's words. It made her stomach churn to do so, especially when he was being so unreasonable. “I live under this roof by your order and your order alone.”
"I'm your TriAlpha, and your father, you do not mock me."
"Notice which takes precedence," she sneered. "TriAlpha before being my blood. Why am I not surprised?"
"You will not twist this, daughter!"
He always reverted to an archaic tongue when chastising her. It made him sound like something from a Dickens' novel.
It was all well and good her excusing her fathers for being so damned old, bu
t if they could adapt to modern technology, be glued to the Internet and to their cells, then they could acclimate to the idea that a woman no longer had to leave the house with a goddamn chaperone.
"I don’t want to speak to you at all! I was quite happy where I was, thank you very much."
"I'm sure you were. Away from our censure."
"You've got that damn right. I'm reprimanded for breathing some days; is it any wonder the idea of a bit of space appealed to me? And anyway, I'm sure your guards informed you of what happened at the motel."
"Yes, we had to sit through that nauseating depiction of you with some Gamma in a bed. I thought better of you," he sneered, his arms flaring wide and with it, shooting a wave of power into the chamber.
She heaved out a laugh as the power brushed over her, but not like a kick to the solar plexus, but a warm touch—like a hug. Ha. When was the last time he’d hugged her? When he’d touched her with love?
Caelus, she couldn’t even remember when.
"That's a wonder. I thought you always believed the worst of me? And that Gamma, the man you sneer at, is my mate." She threw the words down, a gauntlet to be accepted or rejected.
"A mate!" Luca laughed, and his scorn was like acid. "The Mother would not match you with a Gamma. The idea is ludicrous."
"So ludicrous the Elder is currently talking to him?" she queried, hands on hips, fury dancing through her veins at his mockery of Rafe. "I've found my first mate, and you're fortunate Rick had the good sense to back off when he did, otherwise you'd be chastising me for a lot more than sneaking off. You come at my mate," she warned, "you dare to harm him, or intimidate him, you will answer to me. Not the other way around."
For a second, the silence in the council chambers throbbed.
As with any audience with her parents, it always degenerated into a slanging match, but until today, she'd never challenged them. Simply accepted her lot.
No longer.
And not where her mate was concerned.
Trinity (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 1) Page 12