Adam, his tone cool but disbelieving, murmured, "You dare to challenge us, daughter?"
The softness of his tone was in complete contrast to Luca' bellows. The softer Adam's voice, the more one had to be careful. She noticed his hands had curled around the carved wooden armrests of his throne, and in his expensive slacks and shirt, his thighs and biceps bulged—the Wolf leaping to the fore at her disrespect.
But she wasn’t afraid.
She’d stopped being afraid of them a long time ago.
"To protect my mate from you, I would. And I'd win," she jeered. When Damien smiled at the prospect, she called on her depleted energy reserves and gave her fathers the same show as she'd given the guards earlier.
Her hands shifted into the monster paws, hybrid claws tearing through air like they'd tear through flesh—as though it were hot butter on a summer's day.
"Not sneering at me now, are you?" she jibed, ignoring the huge energy drain because it was worth it for the look of astonishment on her fathers’ faces. "Finally taking me seriously." Her eyes flashed. "You attempt to poison my mate against me, and I won't be responsible for what happens next, do you understand me?"
Her fathers were shocked, that was quite evident. She'd never seen them so still, so quiet. She let her hands retract, ordered her She-Wolf to back off and leave her to handle the rest.
The words she'd thrown out, the threat, couldn't be retracted. And she wouldn't. She didn't regret them, she just regretted how this always happened.
How they reverted to the childish slinging of hurtful words and recriminations.
Adrenaline had flooded her system twice today. She'd endured the severe energy drought from one half-shift and another was on its way. She could feel herself grow weak, but she refused to present a frail front to these three men who would instantly pounce.
These weren’t her daddies. They wouldn’t protect her; they’d proven that time and time again. The moment she forgot that, would be a moment she’d pay for that foolishness.
"I just want to enjoy my mate." Her words throbbed with sincerity. "That's all I want and you can understand that, surely? When you’ve gone to such lengths to protect the Lunoi?" She didn’t even call her mother. Elena had never been loving. Marta, her nanny, was more of a mother to her… it was why she’d cried when they’d fired her and cut her from Thalia’s life.
"I find it hard to believe your mate is Gamma, Thalia," Adam murmured softly, in no way referring to her earlier challenge, or to her unique abilities. But he’d ceased bristling. That was telling in itself.
"Well, it's tough. You don't have to believe it," she stated simply. "He's my mate. I sensed him as soon as I left the council this afternoon. I followed his scent to the offices and went with him in my wolf skin. He was unaware of my true identity."
"Gamma senses are pathetic," Luca scoffed at her words. "What did he think? You were a natural? A family pet? And you wish me to believe the Mother would pair you with such a match?" His laughter was a bray, and it cut at her temper, fraying the ragged edges of her strained control.
She didn't want to nod, but neither would she lie. "I did my best to put on a convincing role. Regardless, we are mated, of that I can promise you."
Thalia omitted the fact neither had bitten down during sex, triggering the culmination of the mate bond.
That was probably her fault for being a virgin.
And Rafe's fault for making the experience so easy, so amusing.
Their coming together had been intense, but not a claiming. That would come later.
Tonight, she thought, immediately feeling brighter at the prospect.
"You should have informed us of your intentions, Thalia," Damien said, that sad look still in his eyes.
She closed hers for a second, wondering what she'd have to do to make these three men approve of her. It sickened her that while she disliked her fathers, a part of her still craved that approval. But it wouldn't come, she knew that now.
The Elder had spoken, had told them she'd been telling the truth all these years. He'd told them she was important to the Lyken nation, the key to the next generation, and still, nothing.
She'd just displayed a talent that was incredibly unique in the Lyken world. If there were five people on the continent capable of half-shifting, that was being generous. Yet, instead of being impressed, her papa's eyes were sad. Like she’d failed him. Yet again.
"I'm sure you stopped to call the granddads when you found mother," she snapped. "I'm a grown woman now. I don’t have to answer to you. And while this palace might be the roof over my head, it's my rightful home. But if you have a problem with that, then I'll gladly leave this prison. Hell, I can move in with Rafe. You won’t have to see me again until I have all three of my mates and I'm pregnant. I'm sure that's something to look forward to!" she stated on a growl, alluding to the fact heirs to the TriAlpha seat only ascended to the role once they'd produced the next generation.
Adam held up a hand. "It has been a long day, Thalia. I think you should retire to your quarters with your mate and we shall go to ours." It stuck in his craw to say mate, and she knew it was prejudice against Rafe because of his role in the pack.
She wanted to shout harder at them, dare them to judge her mate as wanting. Gods, even in this, even in finding one of her mates and so young, they were disappointed.
Once again, she realized she'd never please them.
Perhaps it was time to stop trying. Or, at least, stop caring.
She nodded, feeling fatigued from her rather full-on day. "I shall await another audience with you. For me, it will be a pleasure to introduce you to my mate. I'm sure the sentiment isn't shared."
With that, she turned on her heel and walked to the door. With one foot over the threshold, Damien called out, "Thalia!"
She froze, then turned to look at her fathers, who even now wouldn't see her in their own quarters for fear she'd harm their mate.
In a sense, she could understand their fear where she hadn't before. Already, she wanted to wrap Rafe in cotton wool, keep him safe because he was the keeper of her sanity. He didn't realize that, and she wouldn't tell him, but it was the truth.
Even though she could draw parallels now, it still hurt.
"What, papa?" she asked, her voice tired. It was evident Damien wanted to say something, he just didn't know what. And both Adam and Luca were looking at him, wondering what the usually quiet brother was going to say.
When the words, "Blessed be," slipped from his lips, tears drenched her eyes. The chasm between them was too huge, too impossible to cross, but she appreciated his congratulations.
"Thank you."
The words in no way conveyed her gratitude, but nothing would.
She shrugged off the feeling of inadequacy that always dogged her shoulders whenever she was in these chambers. Tomorrow would be the first, fresh day of her new life.
It was a time for change, for acceptance of her flaws and faults, for learning Rafe's quirks and embracing them.
It was a time to throw away the burdens of the past; either to embrace them or reject them entirely.
She was tired of not being enough for her fathers. For never making up for the fact she was a girl.
It was time to shrug off her own guilt at that truth.
She was Thalia Lyndhoven. Princess of the North American Lyken Pack and Heir to the TriAlpha seat. And most importantly, mate to Raphael Santiago.
Those were her labels now. And it was time she lived up to them.
8
Bahkir led Rafe to Thalia's quarters and left him there, while his mate fought battles with her fathers... battles, he really ought to have played a part in.
Guilt settled on his shoulders for his not being the mate Thalia could find useful at the moment. Slaying the dragons her fathers seemed intent on sending her way, or in Thalia's case—armed guards. But, he needed to stop thinking that way. Needed to change his perception of himself.
His ears cocked as he he
ard Bahkir’s slow and steady gait move down the hall—the barricaded hall, with a door that belonged in some kind of speakeasy and came complete with a hatch for the guards to peer into the corridor.
Talk about a gilded cage.
After his conversation with the Elder, Rafe had come to the conclusion that all his frailties as well as his strengths were exactly what Thalia did need in a mate. He was extremely grateful to Bahkir for having shored up his confidence before the TriAlpha summoned him before them. Well, if they deemed him worthy of their attention, that is.
But still, shored up confidence or not, he hated that he might not be able to give Thalia what she needed after her interview with her family.
Grunting at the thought, Rafe looked around the room with a frown. Considering he'd seen nothing of Thalia's tastes in her wardrobe preferences—being nude really didn't allow a person to form an impression, not that he was about to complain—the room still surprised him.
The little he'd seen of the palace so far, well, he hadn't really liked it. Bahkir and he had walked down what had seemed like a gallery porch. One long corridor lined with windows overlooking the pristine gardens, lights illuminating the flower beds and fountains, the other side that wall of paintings that had so impressed him. But they were the formal areas.
The personal? Bahkir had led him on a winding journey throughout the stronghold, and if he’d expected a traditional style of décor, he'd have been disappointed. Although, having seen the Lunoi's study, he could definitely see who had held the most meetings with an interior designer.
While the conversation had seized his attention, even on the periphery, he'd noticed the weird tastes his leaders’ mate had. Statues made from corrugated iron, canvases loaded with different shades of black...
Lykens weren't minimalist creatures. They were creatures of the Earth; beasts who appreciated the comforts of home, and who made a den for themselves that suited both man and beast. He could only pity the TriAlpha for what their den must look like, but for himself, he was thoroughly pleased.
If they commanded Thalia to stay here, he'd have to move practices and come to live here, in her rooms. It would be more than worth the hassle, and aside from being blessed with a complex mate, this place could be home.
Large sofas in a fabric that pleased the feminine eye, a soft lavender linen with one stripe of violet ivy running down the cushions, but huge in dimension. Enough for him to sit back in comfort, legs up, Thalia curled into his side as they watched the equally huge television—apparently, she liked her possessions big.
A grin tugged his lips as he looked at the large fireplace, which at this time of year held a bouquet of flowers rather than the makings of a fire. On the mantelpiece, there were about a dozen candles, all in various states of use. Above them, was a series of Degas-framed charcoal sketches. He recognized not only the style but some of the pieces from books he'd read on the artist, and considering his mate was who she was, he knew they weren't copies but the real deal. The prospect astounded him, especially as he walked into his mate's bedroom to find more real-deal artwork. As he glanced at a Picasso, then a Cezanne, he managed to surmise his mate had a thing for pen and ink or charcoal works, and that she also had a thing for male nudes.
The tens of millions of dollars' worth of art held his focus until he spotted the bed. A piece of furniture so large a giant could sleep on it, filled with down, making the entire thing look like a huge cloud. He was sorely tempted to dive onto it, and to lie there in wait for his mate's return.
His mate.
He closed his eyes at the thought, as a thrill chased along his nerve endings stirring needs that no other female had ever triggered. His fists clenched as he banked the fire Thalia stoked in his veins, and strode toward a set of French doors that overlooked the garden. It was a warm night even though central air cooled the temperature, and he wanted the wind to buffer his flesh as he came to terms with the momentousness of today.
Taking a seat on the top step which led down to the yard, he glanced at the flower beds and pristinely clipped examples of topiary.
To say he felt dazed by the inherent prestige of being here was an understatement. The wealth didn't faze him; even though the artwork had made him pause, his position in society meant that he could afford everything he desired. His house was ample for anyone's needs, the neighborhood a good one, and in an enviable part of town. He knew because he'd bought it all with the distinct idea of impressing his dad. Which, of course, hadn't worked.
"You can't buy your way to a high rank, Raphael," had been his father's parting words of wisdom, as he'd glanced over the three-million dollar house and sneered at it.
He'd learned another lesson there.
Never try to impress Father.
His mother had been pleased, though. She'd refused to leave with her mate. Had demanded to be shown around the kitchen. Watching her ooh and aah at hidden drawers that opened with a press of a finger, and drool over the eight-hob stove, still had the power to make him smile.
Even though he'd gone beyond impressing his father, he wondered if this would stir him even the slightest. As Thalia had said, his rank might still be low but his position was the Moon to his father's Earth. They were light years apart.
His mother would be thrilled, and he looked forward to telling her because she'd be aghast, then terrified at the prospect of meeting the Lunoi and TriAlpha, and then would come the invitations to afternoon coffee with her friends, where she'd accidentally on purpose share all the gossip with women she didn't like but wanted to score points with.
Had he come to these quarters unprepared by Bahkir, he'd have been overwhelmed by it all. After the revelations uncovered during that conversation, in essence, he should still be scared. But he was accustomed to vulnerability. Used to being needed, and having to make life or death decisions at the drop of the hat.
That his mate wasn't perfect, that she was under extreme pressure and had been for the last few years, just made him want to care for her all the more.
He wasn't the Alpha she needed, the one who would stand up to her fathers' decisions and roar. But for her emotional, psychological and sexual self... he was very much a blessing in disguise.
Knowing that and coming to terms with it in the peace of the garden shook his discomfort away. He had a purpose, and Rafe always flourished once he knew what he had to do.
The silence of the gardens soothed him. With his arms hanging loosely over his knees, back crouched, he was very calm, and serenity overtook him once he felt his mate's hands on his shoulders.
He should comfort her, be the one to embrace her, yet she rubbed him there and hummed as she did it. The pleasure she found in touching him had him moving back, resting his weight against her legs, sure of his welcome.
Thalia leaned down, her hair swinging forward to fall around them in a curtain that scented of lilies as she pressed a kiss to his temple, and murmured, "Do you know how many times I've longed to return from the council chambers to find my mate here?" She sighed, the sound redolent with her delight. "Even though they pissed me off, I didn't even want to shift. I just wanted to get back here."
To you, went unsaid.
"They weren't happy?"
"They're never happy when they have to deal with me," she whispered, her tone sorrowful as she started smoothing her hands over his arms. Once they reached his wrists, she slid her fingers into his, and entwined them together, taking a seat at his side as she did so.
"Tell me what happened," he murmured, no command but his tone was insistent nonetheless.
Thalia pulled a face as she propped her chin on her bent knees. "What didn't? I half-shifted again," she confessed.
He froze in her clasp, then turned to stare at her, hoping to the Gods she hadn't just committed high treason. But the teeth nibbling her lip told their own tale.
"Thalia! What the hell did you do that for?"
"They were threatening you. They wouldn't accept you; I let them know they couldn't
mess with me." Her chin jerked up, making him think of a recalcitrant teenager, which, in turn, prompted him of the unwilling reminder of their age gap.
He tugged his hands free from hers and ran one of them through his hair. Agitation throbbed through him. "You have to stop doing that, Thalia. We both know how rare it is, and how dangerous people consider it. To do it to your fathers as well… Mother. You're lucky they didn't call the guards!"
She snorted. "I could take them."
"Stop being so aggressive. You're not a punk kid looking to show the world you don't give a shit. You're the heiress to the TriAlpha seat. Everyone looks to this palace for the mores of our society. You can't go around doing stuff like this anymore. Do you hear me? I won't have you putting yourself in danger, especially when it isn't necessary.
"Your fathers might be bastards, but they're the most important bastards in the country. Gods, in the world! You have to start controlling yourself." When she looked a mixture of rebellious and discomfited, her brow puckered and her lips forming a pout, he pulled out a trump card and settled his palm on her belly. "Once we seal the bond, you could get pregnant as soon as your next heat sets in. Do you want to put our pup in danger? Only the Gods know what half-shifting will do to a fetus. Never mind how it has to drain your energy stores.
"You have more to think of now, Thalia. You're not just one person anymore."
More nibbling of her bottom lip, a flush burning her cheeks, and hesitant peeks at him from under her lashes were her immediate response. When he didn't relent, content to hold the silence to make a point, she sighed. "I didn't want to do it! I've never done it in front of anybody else until today. They were saying such things about you, Rafe,” she told him, pleading with him to understand her predicament. “I couldn't let them carry on. They'd kill anyone who dared to slander my mother. And she's a weakling! Gods, she can't even shift; she's Lyken by name only because of the mating bond. You know we don’t consider half-Lykens as anything special, yet they bitch about you? I couldn't stand for it, Rafe, so I set a precedence. I warned them, and they heeded that warning." Her voice grew small. "I promise I won't do it again unless we're in danger."
Trinity (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 1) Page 13