It just surprised him how upset Thalia’s parents were.
But maybe that was stupid of him.
They’d loved her enough to protect her. To try to keep her safe and under the radar.
Why wouldn’t they be relieved that she wasn’t the rabid She-Wolf they’d feared her to be? Why wouldn’t they want the years that had been stolen from them?
“I don’t know when we’ll be back,” Thalia answered. “I just know we need to go now.” She stepped forward, further surprising Rafe by heading for her mother. The two stood awkwardly in front of one another, as though uncertain how to make the next move. They even danced a little, moving left then right as they tried to figure out how to embrace, and making it look as complicated as the samba.
Thalia sighed and stilled, allowing Elena to press her hands to her daughter’s shoulders, lean in, and gently, carefully, press a kiss to her cheek.
Thalia ducked her head and took a quick step back. There was a look of longing on Damien’s face, one that said he wished she’d come to him too, but she didn’t. She bit her lip, somehow managing to look like her mother even though their coloring was different. It was then Rafe noticed how they both shared the high cheekbones, the full and pouty lips. Their brows were the same—wide and proud. Thalia was definitely her mother’s daughter—just a blonde version.
She stared at Damien and he stepped forward, making the first move. When his arms came around her, she stiffened, allowed him to hug her, then inhaled roughly when he moved back. Adam came next, and he squeezed her gently, then Luca, who stood, just as awkwardly in front of her as Thalia had her mother.
“I hoped to be wrong. I prayed for it.” He pursed his lips. “I never prayed for much else in this life, but for your safety, for your health.” His eyelashes fluttered a second. “It seems incredible to think I’ve been granted this boon. I can stand your anger, can understand it and won’t be hurt if you can’t ever forgive us—even with time passing—but I will always be grateful to the Gods that you are not the creature we believed you to be.” Then, he bent down, pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, and retreated. Stepping to his mate’s side, he curved his arm about her waist, dipped his head at each of Thalia’s mates in farewell, then urged Elena into following him.
Adam and Damien gave them equally brisk salutes before they joined them, and only Elena looked back, the longing on her face as urgent as anything Rafe could imagine.
“Let’s go,” Thalia whispered, her voice brittle.
Theo, mimicking Luca’s posture, curved his arm around her waist and murmured, “Yes, dearling.”
He snapped his fingers, and as was usually the case when they sifted, time seemed to slow. Except, this occasion was different.
Instead of the world seeming to blink out of existence and return, it reminded him of…
The Matrix?
As he stared at the universe around him, a flood of colors and numbers seemed to swirl around him. It wasn’t black and green like the digits that had surrounded Neo. This was…
He wasn’t certain.
An equation?
Well, not a visible one, he realized, but it was in his head. He couldn’t understand it, couldn’t make out what it really was, was just aware of its existence.
When they ‘landed,’ he stared around Theo’s bedroom and watched the swirling colors dissipate. “You didn’t use glamor to sift us here.”
The other three had started to move around the room, shifting from their current locations to go off and do their own thing—for Thalia and Mikkel, it was more than likely that they’d stagger to the bed or puke. At his words, however, Theo froze. “What?”
“You didn’t use glamor.”
He turned back to look at him, a scowl scored onto his brow. “How did you know that?”
Thalia headed for Theo, tugged at his hand. “What’s he talking about?”
“Glamor isn’t something we use to shift between realms. We sift.”
“I know that,” Thalia retorted.
“Sifting isn’t glamor, it’s a kind of calculation that helps me move us from one location to another, from one time to another. What I don’t understand is why Rafe knows that.” His scowl deepened. “He shouldn’t know about it.”
“I didn’t until we sifted just then. It was different than how it usually is.”
“How?” Theo asked, curious now.
“Normally, it’s just like everything fades to black.”
Thalia shook her head. “No. It isn’t. It’s like being at the eye of the storm. Everything moves around you like the speed of light. I hate it. It makes me feel sick.”
Rafe’s mouth worked as he tried to understand who the odd one out was. Turning to Mikkel, he asked, “How does sifting effect you?”
“Like Thalia. I don’t feel sick every time. But, she’s right, it is like being in a blender, everything’s whirling, and you’ve no point of contact to stay still.”
“I don’t understand,” Rafe muttered.
“It must have something to do with your heritage,” Theo countered, the words tumbling slowly from his lips. “That’s the only thing I can imagine it is. You must recognize it because of the fact you’ve a Fae, albeit a fallen one, as a parent.”
“A vessel,” Thalia inserted drily. “Apparently.”
Rafe sucked in a shuddery breath. “I need some air.” Before they could ask him anything else, before they could laugh about his heritage anymore, he strode off. He heard Thalia call his name, but Mikkel stopped her.
And Rafe was glad.
For the first time since he’d come to know her, he didn’t actively crave her presence.
Just her fucking blood.
14
Thalia
“What did you say that for?” Mikkel snapped.
“Say what?”
“Vessel?” he spoke in a lighter voice, in a way that was obviously supposed to mimic hers.
“I didn’t intend to hurt him,” she retorted, offended by the very suggestion. “I was just saying. How can he have two fathers? He’s either got one or the other? This Vulcun or a Dark Fae? Unless it’s like what’s going on with my fathers. Is it?”
“You’re speaking on a subject even I don’t comprehend, Thalia,” Theo inserted coolly.
Her nostrils flared with anger. “I didn’t say anything!”
“You mocked him.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and stalked off, tugging free from Mikkel’s hold even as he tried to keep her in place. She heard him hiss, ignored it, and heard Theo murmur, “They need to break the ice.”
Ice?
Ice?
Something needed to fucking break, she just didn’t know if it was goddamn ice.
With a grunt, she hurried after her changeling mate. He was walking at a fast pace, so fast that it surprised her. Yet more evidence, it seemed, that he was changing. Morphing into something she didn’t understand.
Her stomach twisted at the thought and she pulled back, curious as to where he was going, moving only fast enough to keep up with him but not for him to sense her presence.
They headed down the grand corridor that was bustling at this time of day—it wasn’t night here as it was on Earth, but day, and there were administrative staff in the Royal wing of the palace.
One of the craziest aspects of Heden was the fact that they tended to appreciate things that were completed by hand. Maybe it made sense because they could do things themselves, could conjure up whatever their heart desired and so, it was more prestigious when something had been specifically crafted for them or on their behalf.
It was why, even though Theo only had to snap his fingers, that they had cleaners tend to their suite.
It was why the meals they ate were prepared in a kitchen rather than with glamor.
And though it was strange to her, because who wouldn’t prefer convenience over something handmade? She had come to accept it, because many things on this realm were just plain odd. At least this was so
mething she was used to.
So, she managed to hide herself among the staff who tended to the Royal wing where the family lived when they were here and not in their own homes.
She should have realized from that alone that Theo had other properties—since they’d arrived, she’d yet to meet any of his family save for his parents. His brothers and sisters were all elsewhere, all around the realm. It was stupid of her to think that only Theo would have quarters in the palace and nowhere else.
The plush carpet underfoot was a grass so green it hurt her eyes. It reminded her of Theo’s beautiful orbs when he was happy, so bright and magical. It almost pained her to step on it, but here, nature ruled.
Even in the inside of a palace.
As they stepped out of the Royal wing, they broached the staircase that split off into six different directions.
Whoever had designed it must have had a migraine afterward. The staircase reminded her of a spider. The spider’s legs led to different parts of the palace, while the body was a central platform from which everything was offshooting.
It was grandeur at its most overwhelming. She’d never seen anything like it, and she’d been raised in a palace too.
As she watched him head down the set of steps that led to the large entrance way where a huge aperture was surrounded, not by a door to keep enemies out, but a type of stone archway that had thousands of flowers curled around it in a dizzying display of color. As he scurried through it, she wondered if he was headed to the horses—their Divelsians, which had been a gift from the Queen when Thalia had bested her in a sparring session in the gymnasium.
These horses had wings and could talk.
Well, they could talk when Thalia was present, and through her, communicated with the rest of her men.
As far as she was aware, only she and Rafe were the ones who visited them, and even then, she visited for him. He seemed to like them, whereas Mikkel loathed them because Lysander insisted on stepping on his toes because Helena cuddled up to Mikkel like she was a female in rut.
The thought had her half-snickering because only Mikkel could make an enemy out of a horse, but these weren’t regular creatures. Nothing was in this damn realm, and yet, she felt safe here. Safer than she had at the palace where she’d been raised, where she was realizing she was lucky that she hadn’t had her throat slit at an early age.
Caelus, no wonder her parents had half-loathed her. Had never shown her a hint of kindness. No wonder her staff had disappeared, and over the years, she’d been left alone with a single cleaner and a group of guards who had looked at her with distrust and fear in their eyes.
She’d never understood the fear. Had never been able to piece together why they were so frightened of her when she spent most of her time away from the palace… And that was what Bellatrix had taken advantage of. Her absences had meant the impostor could play Thalia and cause the chaos she needed.
Bellatrix.
Changelings.
Vulcun.
Morningstar.
Four words that felt more life changing than anything else—even the word: pregnant.
She peered down at her still flat belly as her feet connected with the cobbled steps of the courtyard beyond the palace. She could see Rafe’s dark head bowing into the stables and hurried after him now she knew his destination for certain.
Though she knew it would be wise to give him space, that was the last thing she needed. The last thing he needed too, if she was being honest.
Only a fool would put space between themselves and their mate. Even if that mate was scaring them.
Fear.
Not something she felt often, and yet, Rafe was starting to frighten her.
As she stepped out of the bright light of day and into the more shadowy ambience of the stables, she headed for the Divelsians’ stall. They were a mated pair, so why Helena would flirt with the males, Thalia didn’t know. She usually found it amusing to see the female’s nose halfway up Rafe’s shirt as she scented him, even if it was damn odd.
“You shouldn’t have followed me.”
His words were a growl, but she ignored his temper and rested her arms on the half-door that led to the stall. Lysander, seeing her, trod over, shoving his nose at her in a silent demand for a nuzzle.
What? No sugar? Dear Gods, you fail miserably at owning horses.
I didn’t know I was visiting you today, she retorted, ignoring the creature’s grumble to pat his head.
“I had to follow you,” she said aloud to her mate. “If I put distance between us, who knows how far we’ll grow apart.”
His head whipped around at that, with such a speed that Helena neighed, and Lysander bristled. “What?”
His eyes were that deep dark brown again. She’d never realized how many different shades there could be in his irises, but they were ever-changing. Fickle, almost as if they responded to whatever duress his body was going through.
“You heard me,” she replied. “You’re frightening me, Rafe. You’re changing, and I don’t understand why.”
“I’m the male you need me to be,” he ground out, stepping away from Helena to stalk over to her. His hands gripped the door beside hers, and she didn’t have to look at them to know his knuckles would be white from the tension in his hold. “I’m the male I should have always been.”
“You would never have killed Bellatrix before.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“Isn’t it?”
“This new me is exactly what you need, so yes, it’s a good thing. It’s unnerving, granted, and does it make me uneasy sometimes? Yes. But we’re about to go to war, Thalia,” he stated grimly, pushing his face deeper into her space. Behind them, she heard a stable hand’s boots clipping against the cobbles in tangent with a horse’s hoofs, but she ignored the intrusion, as did Rafe. “Don’t you realize that? Do you think Morningstar is going to take being executed lying down? He wants our child, and we’re not about to let that happen. I need to be a warrior, not some pussy healer who gets shit accomplished. That hasn’t worked for me for half a century, I figure it’s time for things to change.”
She blinked at him, her mouth working until she sighed as he pressed his forehead to hers.
“Why are you scared?” he asked.
“You want my blood.”
“I do,” he admitted.
But that wasn’t what scared her. This afternoon, Bellatrix’s bloodlust had put the fear of the Gods into her, but she’d been uneasy before that. Uneasy because…
“You want me to want it.” The words spilled from his lips as though they were a revelation. She squirmed in front of him, her legs fidgeting as she tried, internally, to deny his statement, but she couldn’t.
The flaring of his nostrils told her that.
“But why?” he asked, seeming to ignore the scent of her blossoming arousal. “Why would that scare you?”
“Because of what you made me feel.” She swallowed. “I’ve never felt that way before.”
“How did you feel?”
“Like the world could have ended and I wouldn’t have cared.”
His eyes flared wide. “And that scared you?”
“I have three mates. I’m pregnant. We have, as you say, a battle ahead of us. And all I can think about is you taking my blood.” She shuttered her eyes, then closed them outright.
“Is this the blood thrall of which Bellatrix spoke?”
She jolted at the invading voice, and pulled back to glower at Theo. He looked as cool and as damn calm as ever. She wanted to growl at him but didn’t.
He’d changed. As had Mikkel, who was at his side. Unlike the jeans and Henleys Theo had clothed the men in after they’d left Bellatrix’s cell, they were in their usual wear while here—loose fitting pants and a Kurta in a cerulean blue—Theo’s faction colors.
“What are you doing here?”
“Protecting you,” Mikkel retorted. “You didn’t think, after you’d just been kidnapped, th
at we were going to let you chase after Rafe by yourself, did you?”
Theo’s eyes narrowed. “That would have been a very foolish thing to think, Thalia.”
She glowered at him, then Rafe grabbed her hands, and tugged her focus back on him. “Speak to me, mate,” he whispered.
“I was speaking until I was interrupted.”
“With a pertinent question,” Theo countered, ignoring her huff. “Is this the thrall of which Bellatrix spoke?” he repeated.
Rafe shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t know Thalia felt this way.”
She fidgeted again as she contemplated exactly how she felt. Like she needed them inside her.
Stat.
Rafe’s teeth on her body. Drinking from her.
It was a curious weakness.
A growing addiction? She feared so.
“What’s it make you want to do, Thalia?” Mikkel asked, his voice as gruff as usual.
“Fuck,” she admitted, and rolled her eyes when he snorted.
“That supposed to be a bad thing?”
Theo nudged him in the side. “When we’re supposed to be focusing on other matters, yes.” He tilted his head as he studied her. “For just Rafe?”
“No. For all of you. But with his teeth in me, and…” She let out a long, quivery breath. “Caelus, just thinking about this is making me wet.”
Theo’s lips firmed and he jerked his chin at the horses. “I think it’s time we took them out for a ride.”
Considering that was as off topic as you could get, Thalia just gaped at him for a second. “Excuse me?”
“I’m taking you to the waters. I don’t see why Mikkel and Rafe can’t come with us this time now that we have a means of transport.”
“You want me to get on the back of one of those things?” Mikkel yelled, and, on cue, Lysander neighed noisily. Helena just whinnied. Somehow managing to sound delighted.
“I more than want it. I expect it. It’s time you went to the waters too. Now that I know you’re half-human, I’m certain they’ll be good for you.”
Mikkel scowled. “Why?”
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