Trinity (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 1)
Page 15
And Thalia's stomach twisted with anguish.
Caelus, how they hated her.
Tears filled her eyes, burning away like acid as she realized her fathers didn't want to let her into this section; probably deeming her a security risk to the children of the pack. Almost like she was Avian Flu walking.
"You're not allowed into this part of the festival," the guard murmured; Jack was on her security detail, and she saw the pity in his eyes as he continued, "I'm sorry, your highness."
And like that, with those two words, the whole house of cards began to tumble.
The child behind her suddenly squawked, "Momma, why did that man call that lady ‘your highness’? Will he call me that? Will he? I’m a princess. Daddy says so!"
Out of the mouths of babes, Thalia's anonymity fell to the ground like Fall felled the leaves from the trees.
The words 'your highness' flew down the lines, across the crowds surrounding the gates to the Kids section of the layout.
To Thalia, that moment registered as the most humiliating moment of her life. To be refused entry to one part of the festival and to have that be publicly acknowledged...?
The guard, Jack, looked as though he wanted to rip out his tongue, and his eyes pleaded with her for forgiveness.
She just bowed her head, feeling her parents' control from afar, feeling the bars of the prison they’d placed her in curving around her, and hating them for it. And then, Rafe gripped her hand, and forced her to turn around.
Thalia tried to jerk her hand free, wanting to stalk off, not turn and face the masses of gawking faces. But he tightened his grip and with his other hand, grabbed her shoulder and forcibly moved her to face the people.
It was as bad as she thought.
The whispers were rife. The low throb ran among the crowd like an electric charge, as four hundred people, minimum, witnessed her shame.
She wanted to die.
She did. These people, her pack, had borne witness to the loathing her fathers felt for her, and Thalia could imagine no greater mortification.
Then, someone in the crowd called out, "Princess?"
His hesitant voice emerged like the purest call from a dove to its mate. It cut through the horde and led to silence, a deafening silence in the face of the whispers of before.
She nodded tightly, expecting more chatter, more gossip. More humiliation to load on to her shoulders, to add to her misery at being apart from the pack that would one day be hers. The pack she and her mates would one day lead on the National Pack runs.
But the chatter didn't start. Mouths dropped open, yes, but not to talk. In shock.
And then, almost like a Mexican wave, the women dropped into deep curtsies, little girls awkwardly following their mothers' example, and the men bowed their heads and crossed their right arms over their chest, fisting their hand over their hearts, their sons' looking proud as they did the same.
At that moment of acceptance, of formally being introduced to her people, the people her fathers had tried to keep from her, she let the tears roll, and felt Rafe at her back; his silent, staunch support everything she needed to get through the turbocharged moment.
A moment that after years of isolation, finally merged Thalia back into the world she’d one day reign over.
Once that bond was in place, she did the only thing she could do.
She wept harder.
10
Within minutes of her identity making the rounds, what seemed like thousands of Lykens came to pay their respects, the women curtsying, bobbing up and down with excitement, the men all in their half-bows. They meant her no harm, but that didn't stop Security from rushing in and shuffling her and Rafe away from the Kids section and back toward the palace.
They passed an ungodly amount of Lykens, and considering the level of protection, they were at the center of thousands of people's attention.
It would have been embarrassing, but Thalia was in a daze and Rafe was worried about her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go, but they were moving too quickly through the crowds, had to almost run to keep up with the guards, who didn’t let up the pace until they had returned the royal pair to the palace, and deposited them in their wing.
It was very easy to feel like a prisoner, and Rafe had to wonder two things.
Firstly, how had Thalia withstood this for over half a decade?
Secondly, were her parents purposely cruel?
To shame their daughter in such a public way, was...
It could have gone so badly so quickly. Instead, his mate had been embraced by her kind, as he'd known she would. These last few days, sequestered in her... their... rooms, he'd assured her people were curious about her. They didn't think she was derelict in her duties. There were just a lot of questions surrounding her. And their reaction had backed him up, thankfully.
Spying his mate weeping had pissed his Wolf off, especially as all Rafe had been able to do, was wrap an arm about her shoulders and hug her. While the Wolf was anxious for his mate, the man was very, very angry.
In fact, he didn't think he'd ever been so angry.
Not even when his father had continuously, throughout the years, displayed his horror at having a Gamma son. Not when Jason Torres had targeted and beaten him.
The only thing that was slightly on par was his reaction to treating the female Gammas on the receiving end of Torres's lusts.
He seethed throughout their guarded return to the palace. Every teardrop spilled by his mate acting like a punch to the damn gut. He wanted to lash out, wanted to rail at the bastards who were treating his mate as though she were a danger to the public.
And hell, there was no other way being denied entry to the Kids section of the festival could be taken.
She wasn't to be trusted with the pups; that was the statement the TriAlpha were making. Like she was going to hurt them or something. Like she was out of control, and while she did have a temper, while that temper wasn't necessarily slow to rile... he'd never met a more controlled Lyken. Considering the physiological pressures she'd endured for the last decade, he still couldn't believe she wasn't locked away in an asylum rather than just her suite. Any other Lyken female would have been frothing at the mouth! Totally feral from such experiences as the ones Thalia had to endure every month.
In his role as healer to his pack, he'd treated more torn backs and bite marks from males who'd been the recipients of their females’ aggression during their heats. And taking into account that Lykens were fast healers, that a shift could usually heal most wounds, these injuries tended to be deep, close to the bone in some cases. In need of stitches, even!
So yeah, his mate had an incredible level of control, and to shame her so publicly? For the first time in his life, Rafe wanted to get in someone's face. That the faces belonged to his leaders, well, that was just tough shit.
The doors closed behind the guards, leaving them in what was essentially their jail cell. Used to being under others’ control, this wasn't alien to him, but even he felt claustrophobic by being shut in here.
They hadn't locked the door, but they didn't have to. If they left, they'd be escorted back to the rooms.
That wasn't exactly freedom, was it?
He led his still upset mate over to the bed and began to strip off her simple shirt and shorts, intent on making her take a nap, because she probably had a raging headache now.
She let him, which surprised him. He'd expected an argument, but she just stood there, like a doll and let him tend to her. And that worried him even more.
Thalia was a fighter. A brat. Her outspokenness both charmed and agitated. She was quick to rile, quicker to laugh. Her being shimmered with vibrancy, like her body couldn’t withstand all the energy she had to contain. She was not this still creature. A quiet ghost of her usually ebullient spirit.
When he lifted the top sheet, she climbed in wordlessly and once he covered her with the silky fabric, she finally spoke. And her voice, Gods, the pain in it knifed him.
When her bottom lip started to tremble, he sighed, and climbed onto the bed beside her. She immediately snuggled into him, resting her head on his chest. The slight sigh she gave, had his Wolf rumbling with pleasure. That she found such solace in his hold thrilled both man and beast.
"When someone is different, Thalia, when someone does as you said, ‘breaks the mold’, people can't understand that creature. They don't know what to expect.
"You told me your fathers were old-fashioned. They'd been reared to be the TriAlpha, to create the next generation of Regents for the nation." It was like swallowing acid defending the bastards who seemed so intent on hurting his mate, but for her sake, and not theirs, he would. "When they didn't have triplets, I can only guess how that made them feel. And I think they're still reeling, even though Bahkir explained it to them.
"Bahkir explained a lot to me too, Thalia, darling, and I'm still in shock from it all. I'm still finding it hard to process. So, I suppose they are as well. That in no way excuses what they just did to you." He shook his head, barely containing the rage swelling deep inside. "I'm so furious for you. They're lucky you were upset and not angry. The Gods only know what the crowd's reaction would be to you running amok the crowds, half-shifted!"
His words did as he'd intended. She started to chuckle, the sound watery. Even though she was amused, it still made his stomach twist with fury. That wet little sound was in no way the full-throated, bursting laughter she was capable of.
“I wouldn’t dare half-shift now,” she said on a little chuckle. “Not after my mate told me how disappointed he’d be with me.”
Pleasure filled him at her words and, needing to soothe her, he started to run his fingers through the loose strands of hair curling over her shoulders. She sighed again, this time sounding a little better, a little less sad, a little more like his hellcat. Or hell wolf, in her case.
His lips twitched at the thought, and as he continued to gentle her with his touch, he felt her drift to sleep, and knew relief, because it was what she needed.
As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, he knew he'd have to confront the TriAlpha. That he couldn't call himself mate, or at least, a worthy mate for Thalia if he failed to call them out on their behavior. If he failed to make them aware of how they'd hurt their daughter.
That first evening, after the palace guards had come seeking them and promptly left after Thalia's display of aggression, she'd told him that she'd rectify the situation in his pack. She'd be judge, jury and executioner of Jason Torres.
He didn't want her to go so far, but he knew that he wanted to get Thalia away from here. He wanted her to breathe in air that wasn’t filled with her parents' bitter shame at their ineptitude, at their inability to create the next TriAlpha. She was so young still. Barely an adult, considered an adolescent in their world even though she was fully mature—both inside and out. He wanted her to come into her own away from the tensions so inherent in life at the palace.
They could only do that at his home in Austin.
Only problem was, what would she do with herself?
He lived in a nice place, but it was most definitely urban. In no way rural. He'd bought the place for that reason alone.
Most of the time, he felt more human than Lyken. He treated more humans than those of his kind, and throughout his life, he'd had more grief from his brethren... was it any wonder he'd buried himself in the human world?
But that was the last thing his mate needed.
And he had to think of her now. She might have the higher rank, but she was the vulnerable one here. She needed him to care for her, to love her.
The mate bond was a peculiar thing, he realized, staring up at the ceiling as he straightened out his legs and laid flat out on the bed at his mate’s side.
It could be interpreted as insta-lust, insta-love. But it wasn't. It was simply recognition. It was an incredible sense of knowing. Of a connection being formed and instantly lodging in a body's soul. Of knowing you were no longer alone, that there were two of you now to consider.
Where strength was concerned, he couldn't care for his mate. He hated that, hated that he wasn't Lyken enough for her, but that was the way it was, and he had no choice but to accept it or it would eat away at what they had, making it a shell of a bond, when it could be so much more.
He wasn't an idiot, he knew he had to shrug off and accept his weaknesses if he was to be what Thalia needed. And he'd do that.
Tonight.
Tonight, they'd petition the TriAlpha, and they'd break free from this place. Together.
From what he could gather, she'd spent her days in her wolf skin, with the pack of naturals she'd befriended, or in her rooms, studying.
He'd seen the tomes she'd read, and while he'd had to study some doozies for his degrees, the ancient books describing the intricate laws of the Lyken world would have had him falling asleep they were so dry.
If they wouldn't let her go, wouldn't let her come to Austin, then he knew she'd be aware of a law they could use for their benefit. And if not, they’d stay here, both of them studying their asses off, to find a means for her escape.
"I can hear you thinking," she murmured sleepily, the words soft and, thankfully, free from tears.
"You're supposed to be asleep." He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
"I woke up."
"No. I'd never have guessed," he jibed, but his fingers fluttered through the hair at the base of her neck comfortingly.
She chuckled and sat up. "I had a crick in my neck. Why do they always make sleeping on your partner look so comfortable in the movies?"
"My pec is offended," he told her, deadpan.
She leaned down, pressed a kiss to the offended portion of his body, and grinned up at him. "All better now?"
"I'll forgive you, and so does my chest."
A huge yawn escaped her, and she stretched up, wriggling her arms. "How long did I sleep for?"
He looked at the clock, shocked to see forty-five minutes had passed them by. "Three-quarters of an hour."
"I feel better for it. Sorry for going all soggy on you," she apologized, her eyes on her fingers as she pleated the duvet cover. "I'm not a crybaby, honest."
He snorted; if anyone deserved to be, it was Thalia, and yet she was remarkably free from the jail that was self-pity. "What they did to you was out of order, Thalia. And I think we know we need to make a move."
"In what direction?" she asked, her voice cautious.
At that moment, he knew she'd made plans of her own. Sometimes, she was as transparent as a window. He hid his smile, wondering if their plans were similar. He didn’t have it in himself to be mad at her for not sharing her ideas with him. Her family had taught her to be cautious, to manipulate. He might have to spend a lifetime unteaching her the crap they’d imparted, but at least he’d have a Lyken’s lifetime to do so.
"I think we should go to Austin."
“I agree.” She nodded resolutely. “I need to sort Torres out.”
"Yeah, I know you want to, but I think we should live there. Just for a while. I don't live in a palace, but I live in a very nice house. You'll be happy there. We can start our mated life in peace. Without their interference, because you just know that's what it's going to be like. Today was just a taster. They're going to have to start letting you take a role in society, especially after the ruckus we caused. Actually, if you think about it, that couldn't have gone better for us.
"They can't keep you buried away now. I told you people are so curious about you; they're dying to know more. Because you’re the first girl to be born from the TriAlpha, yes, but you’re also the first princess. Gods, I can only imagine the spread in the papers. It will
be epic."
"From that shit-eating grin, I can tell that amuses you."
His smile faltered at her tone. "I know it was tough, Thalia. But can't you see? This is a way out. And my place in Austin is..."
"Have you heard of something called a Triskele?" she interrupted.
"Yeah, it's a kind of triskelion, right? Three swirls curled around a circle if memory serves."
"Technically, you're not wrong. But for Lykens, it means something else. It's like a Pack Enforcer, but for the TriAlpha. It's a royal position, but no one's held it for about two hundred years. Not since we made peace with the Prides."
Rafe frowned—the Pride Wars had been his least favorite topic in history. "A Royal Enforcer, then? Working under the TriAlpha's command?"
She nodded. "I'm going to approach my fathers and request that role."
"How likely are they to agree to that?" he asked hesitantly, doubting her fathers would agree to their daughter having such a position when it meant her traveling out of their jurisdiction.
She shrugged. "They can either give me that title and by royal decree, allow me to go to your pack to punish Jason Torres, or I'll do it without their blessing. Their choices are very limited."
Despite himself, Rafe was surprised. “You’d go rogue?”
“It’s not exactly rogue when you’re a Princess of the TriAlpha court,” she countered.
He frowned. “I don’t know. They just corralled us in here with security, Thalia. What’s to stop them from doing that again?”
She rolled into a sitting position, and the move had her tunneling out of his arms. He didn’t like the distance, wasn’t sure why she needed it, but let her move. She didn’t go far but raised her legs and hooked her arms over her knees.
It was a protective and self-comforting posture; anyone with eyes could see that. And considering he was usually the one in a defensive stance, he didn’t like to see that on her. Especially not when she was dealing with him.
Why did she need to protect herself from him?
“Don’t underestimate me, Rafe.”
His frown deepened, as both confusion and hurt choked him. “Underestimate you?”