The unfairness of that washed through him. “Jesus.”
“Yeah,” she said with a tight smile, lifting her teacup and with all the daintiness of the princess she was, taking a delicate sip. “Anyway, an Elder came recently. He’d been at rest for, unfortunately, more years than I’ve been alive. When he heard of me, he came the instant he could. They believed him when he said he knew I wasn’t lying. When he told them the Goddess had spoken to him, they listened.”
“And that’s why you’re here now?”
“No. It’s why I’m not locked in the palace. I met Rafe a few days before the Centennial. Together, we realized what needs to be done.”
“And what exactly is that?”
“The pack needs a hand of justice. That’s going to be me.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “The intention is to travel around the country to make sure packs are following the letter of the law, and that there’s no mistreatment of the lower ranks.” He watched as her tongue flickered out over her bottom lip, then, was jarred from his study when she accidentally rattled her porcelain tea cup against the saucer. Her voice was even shakier than her breath when she whispered, “Traveling around the country was supposed to give me a chance of finding my other mates too.”
For a second, he just stared at her. Then, focusing on the one word that snatched his attention, he looked at Rafe for clarification because surely he’d misheard. “Other mates?”
Rafe’s jaw clenched as he ducked his head once. “She has three.”
And that reminder was when Mikkel realized he hadn’t just gone down the rabbit hole, he’d fallen head first into insanity.
This was why he avoided the Lyken world. This was why he hadn’t been home for eight goddamn years. Living as a part of the pack was like being on an acid trip twenty hours a day. He’d escaped the life years ago, and now, fate was dragging him back into the fray.
Rage rushed through him. Making his blood burn hotter and turning his control to mush. It was a rage that was born from a four-year-old’s confused anger at seeing a stranger kiss his momma at the mall. From an eight-year-old’s impotent rage at being ignored by the pack in favor of his baby sisters. It was spurned from decades of being isolated amid the crowd, of being made to feel different, weak, less.
Lykens had been no friend to him. Why the fuck would he want to shove his lot with them when they’d only ever treated him like crap?
And then, he realized something.
Free will.
Whatever they said, he didn’t have to be a part of it. She already had a mate and was on the lookout for another two? Well, she wasn’t going to have him. That was for fucking sure.
No way in hell did he wanted to be hauled into the cluster fuck that was this situation. No way, no how, and that was final.
He’d do his stint as her guard, but that was it.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
He’d read the report and had known she had three males, but they had been three strangers. And the knowledge had been abstract because it hadn’t involved him. He’d barely even processed the information for his disinterest in his assignment was absolute—he didn’t need to know that kind of thing to keep her safe. But now? He was one of the triad of men she wanted to add to her coterie. Three males he’d almost pitied at being thrown into the mix. A mix he’d never imagined he could be involved in.
He hadn’t been a party to that craziness. And he wouldn’t be either.
He’d do his duty, make sure Louis Lyndhoven was pleased with his service, then when she stopped with the temper tantrum and gave up this madness of being the ‘pack’s hand of justice’ he’d get out of there the instant he could.
That was the only path that led to freedom, and Mikkel had been born to be free.
****
Rafe watched as Mikkel scanned his house with a weathered eye. He checked nooks and crannies with a single glance, his hand never hovering too far from the holstered weapon on his shoulder.
The man was taller than Rafe, bulkier in muscle, and, had he been a Wolf, would most likely have been a high-ranking Beta. There was something off about him that detracted from his being Alpha, but Rafe, not being leader material either, couldn’t really discern it.
He wondered if Thalia knew. Then, dismissing it as unimportant, he carried on watching the man who had just shouldered his way into Rafe’s relationship with his mate scan his home.
For a human, Rafe appeared to have it all.
He was a doctor with an extensive and successful practice. His home reflected that. Set high in the Hills, an exclusive development in a pricey subdivision of Austin, he peered over the city like Zeus over Olympus.
He had an infinity pool, more yard than he knew what to do with, and housekeeping staff that came every day to tend to the interior and exterior of the property as well as make him fresh meals.
For a human, he had it made.
For a Wolf, he was severely lacking.
That had never hit home so hard as when he watched a human male wander around his home looking for unseen evils to wrestle.
What was it he and Thalia had said?
Mikkel had recognized her power, had declared her need for a guard was a poor misjudgment on her grandfather’s behalf. She’d concurred, stated that Louis had only hired Mikkel because he wasn’t aware of her strength due to a long time spent apart.
But, though that was a surface truth, more than that, Louis felt Thalia was in danger because Rafe was Gamma, and therefore lacking.
Unable to watch Action Man anymore, he strode away and into the kitchen.
He needed a drink and then he needed to run. Not in his wolf skin, either. As a human.
He rarely needed to shift, another sign of weakness on his part, but the motion of running helped clear his mind. And at the moment, his mind was a fog that was fucking with his rationale. Only trouble was, he couldn’t shift by himself without a full moon, and even then, he usually needed Laura to shift to trigger his own.
He couldn’t even do that right.
Rubbing his temple, he tried to discern if he was jealous, angry, or just confused. Maybe it was a combination of all three, maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t know. He just…
He felt cheated.
He’d thought he’d have years with Thalia. Years alone. Time to learn her, to have her learn him. To teach her and to guide her, and be taught and guided in return.
The concept of her having three mates had been an almost ethereal idea. He’d thought he’d have time to get used to the notion, but he didn’t. Time wasn’t something the Gods could give him. Instead, there was a male wandering around his home who laid a claim to Rafe’s woman. A human male who, despite not having a drop of Lyken blood, was more powerful than Rafe.
Didn’t that just bite his ego right in the balls?
His throat clutched like he was being strangled, and that need for more whiskey hit him once more. He retreated to the kitchen, which was the largest communal room in the house, mostly because he’d been raised to think that way. Although, his mother would have killed for a kitchen like this back when they’d been kids.
His was the size of the entire downstairs home he’d lived in as a small child.
With a wall of glass overlooking the infinity pool, there was a large dining table that seated twenty—this was where his family gathered now on special occasions, and where his mother cooked for those events. The table was white with frosted glass inserts that slashed through the surface like a zebra’s hide. The chairs were in a mink leather, low slung, and comfortable.
An island separated the dining area from the kitchen, which was also mink with gray and white touches. The cupboards gleamed like colored glass, as did the stainless steel stove and fridge. A breakfast counter separated the kitchen from a large sofa that looked onto a sixty-inch TV screen.
He headed for the fridge, ignoring the elegant touches of the room. Opening it, he found plastic dishes and peering through them, discovered some empanadas that looked m
ore like he’d had a visit from his mother rather than his staff.
Retrieving the box, he turned around and jolted in place. Thalia, standing in the doorjamb, was watching him move around the kitchen.
Even he, with his mediocre senses, could see she was tracking him. Though her stance was relaxed, unconcerned, the way she was moving her head, the movement of her eyes… all of it made him feel like a stag being stalked by her She-Wolf.
Not appreciating the similarities, he gritted out, “Do you want an empanada?”
She blinked. “An empanada?”
“My mother’s been here. They’re probably from today’s bake.” He proffered the box at her as he slipped onto a stool at the breakfast counter.
She didn’t prowl, which lessened the feeling of being hunted, but he was relieved nonetheless when she was sitting beside him. He delved into the box and reached for a pastry. Passing it to her, he murmured, “They’re pretty damn good if I say so myself.”
“Thank you,” she told him politely, accepting it and taking a bite.
He watched the motion of her mouth, the pleased smile on her face, and knew she liked what she was tasting.
He grinned a little at the happy noises she was making.
“Wasn’t lying, was I?”
“These are excellent,” she admitted after she’d finished chewing, then took another bite.
Maybe that was what dropped his guard. Maybe that was why her next move was so unexpected.
Regardless, when her hand came out, slicing through the air with so clean a blow that there was a whistle with the move, he didn’t have time to react, just act.
He grabbed her hand before it could connect with his throat, and clenched his fingers about her wrist.
Astonishment whirled through him, quickly followed by anger. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snapped, but his words were more of a roar and shortly after, he heard the thudding of footsteps as Mikkel sought them out, obviously thinking there was danger somewhere in the house as he ran to find them.
Thalia, on the other hand, didn’t react. Save to smile. It wasn’t a Cheshire Cat’s smile, but it was damn near close.
And her eyes? They were twinkling with pleasure. Like he’d plopped a ring on her finger, not imprisoned her hand in his like a bear trap.
“You tell me if an ordinary Gamma would have done that, Rafe.”
His anger bled away and was replaced with confusion. His mouth worked, but no sound passed his lips.
“I can tell you the answer… no.” She sent him a considering look, that damnable Mona Lisa smile curving her lips before she turned around to glance at Mikkel who had just arrived. “False alarm,” she told him softly.
Mikkel just rolled his eyes and stomped back to wherever he’d come from.
Rafe dropped Thalia’s hand like it was poisoned as he realized he was still holding onto her wrist.
“Why did you do that?” he demanded, unsure how he felt; not only about the attack but his response to it.
He’d never… His responses were slow. Sluggish. He was a fucking Gamma. No way could he take on Thalia. But. He’d stopped her. And she hadn’t contained her strength either. She’d flung it at him. Thrown it at him with the power of a bulldozer.
What the hell did that mean?
“Because I wanted you to see that you’re not, and never have been, ordinary, my darling.” She leaned forward, kissing his sulky mouth and, totally making him forget everything that had just happened, murmured, “Now, I have to go meet your Alpha. Do you want to come with me?”
He blinked, confused. “Aren’t you tired?” They’d just traveled from Oregon to DC, DC to Austin… Had been in the air for nine hours, but had been in the plane for close to ten.
They’d also had an early start as well as a late night the night before… why she wasn’t dead on her feet, he didn’t know.
“I slept enough on the plane. I don’t need that much sleep,” she admitted. “And I’ll be shifting soon.” Her smile turned dreamy. “I’ll feel better then.”
He frowned at her, not particularly understanding why shifting would give her energy. If anything, after a shift, Lykens were either horny or sleepy.
Certainly not energized.
“Did you ask the council to arrange for a meeting with the Alpha?” he asked, taking a bite of his own empanada.
She tilted her head to the side. “Of course. The messenger said your Alpha told me to come whenever I arrived.”
His lips twitched. “I don’t think he meant at nine o’clock at night.”
She shrugged. “Then he should watch his words better, shouldn’t he? No wonder the pack’s so shoddily run.”
“Don’t tell him that,” Rafe retorted, but his grin was more amused than concerned.
She popped her finger on his nose. “Why not? I can always challenge him too.” He gaped at her, and she burst out laughing. “Your face… it’s a card.”
Shaking his head, he grumbled, “It’s certainly something. Let me finish this and we can go.”
“It’s a snack,” she retorted, picking hers up and then grabbing the box. “We can eat it on the ride over.”
He blinked at her, then unable to deny that she was wrong, clambered to his feet.
Rafe didn’t know what she was doing, what her intentions were, but that sneaky smile on her face?
It had him worried.
And after a day of dealing with confusing and tiring emotions? It was just one step closer to the deep end, and Rafe was just too exhausted to swim back to safety.
****
Thalia stood in Austin’s Summerford Packhouse and stared around.
If she hadn’t known she was in Texas, then being here was a big enough clue. She’d never seen as much plaid, as well as deer heads, mounted on the wall in her life.
Pursing her lips at the questionable interior design of the place—each to their own, after all—she murmured, “Likes hunting, doesn’t he?”
Mikkel coughed, but she knew he was hiding a laugh. Rafe just looked ill at ease.
She sighed at the sight, and half-wondered what to do about him.
He was so ashamed about his rank that he couldn’t see the woods for the trees.
He was no Gamma. She didn’t know what the fuck he was if she was being honest, but he wasn’t on the bottom rung of the ladder either. That didn’t mean she was going to change her mind or her purpose for being here. What was happening needed to be stopped, and she’d have fun doing it.
Especially as her other mate was still eying her like she was a Martian newly landed on Earth.
That reason, above Rafe’s discomfort, was why she was here now.
She’d intended on waiting until the morning, had thought to meet the Alpha at a regular hour, but meeting Mikkel had waylaid those plans.
Whenever she’d thought of meeting her mates, she’d expected… happy times. Happy moments that would make even happier memories.
Instead, each time, she hadn’t had that. She’d had to plead with Rafe, and looked like she’d have to plead with Mikkel who, unlike Rafe, didn’t seem to even be feeling the sexual attraction between them.
Could nothing be fucking simple? Thalia asked herself as she waited in the Alpha’s visitor’s room.
Taxidermy abounded in here, and the rifles that were mounted on the wall were further proof that the man was trigger happy.
A fact she disapproved of.
They were predators. They hunted in their wolf form or not at all.
Using guns in those situations was shameful, and already made her predisposed to dislike the man.
And that was without Rafe’s obvious unease at being here.
She stood in the center of the room, well aware that her stance in here would be measured and taken note of. So, though she wanted to peer around and gape at all the dead animals being used as interior decoration, she stood fast.
Packhouses were different in every state. Texas, she knew, was a little more fo
rmal.
A Packhouse housed the Alpha and his or her mate as well as their litter. Usually, there was space for pack meetings, and on the grounds of the Packhouse, there were houses for the older Betas who acted in advisory capacities.
Being a ruling Beta wasn’t all that difficult. It required a talent. Something that dragged them out of obscurity into the light. The ones who lived on site would be whizzes with anything from finances to pack history.
The Beta who had greeted them wasn’t a ruler, but a guard. He’d shuffled off to gather the Alpha after she’d forced him to submit.
That had been fun.
“Aren’t Alphas supposed to respond immediately to the summons of a TriAlpha delegation?”
Mikkel’s voice was curious, but what made her curious was his knowledge of pack tradition. She cut him a look. “Yes.” Her answer was pithy but to the point.
“Thought as much.” He rubbed his chin—a habit she’d noticed he did a lot. Each time he did it, he looked surprised to find stubble there which told her he was perennially close-shaved. Not that shocking considering his position in the Forces, she guessed. “Thought it was FUBAR that you had to make that guard submit.”
“This pack deals in aggression,” Rafe said, and the hoarseness of his voice hurt her intrinsically.
She turned to him. “We’re here to change that,” she told him softly. Her tone was bright, but his dourness as well as the way he’d turned in on himself like a tortoise seeking his shell dispelled any brightness she had inside her.
The men who had made her mate afraid would pay, a fact that had her She-Wolf rumbling in agreement.
“Couldn’t the guard sense you were the princess?” Mikkel asked, his tone conversational.
Unlike her second mate, Rafe’s was anything but. “No. She doesn’t scent of Alpha.”
He was so wooden here that it hurt her. “They’ll learn,” she said, her smile bitter but proud.
The day she cowed to anyone would be the day she was buried.
She’d spent too long being herded this way and that.
Never again.
Trinity (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 1) Page 25