He tried to imagine his father and Thalia in the same room… then shuddered away from the very notion.
Better not to think of it. Just to get it over with.
He knew Thalia wanted to meet with his family and handle the Summerford Pack’s Alpha in the aftermath of the challenge. Rafe was under no illusions, Thalia had just declared a national war on any and all Wolf Lyken of high rank who thought it was A-Okay to beat on Gammas and Omegas.
There would be repercussions for that revolutionary stance.
Not just on Thalia’s side, but on the packs housing and sheltering such bullies.
As he wondered exactly what she’d do to ensure the Summerford Pack was punished for such harboring, the door opened and in strolled his mate.
She wore his shirt from yesterday evening—the one he’d changed into after they’d made it back from the challenge. The old one had been covered in blood and gore.
Torres, like the scum he was, had pulled a dirty move. Having surrendered, Thalia had been generous enough to spare him his life. Then, she’d turned her back on him, and he’d pounced like the dishonorable shit he was.
After killing him and making it out of the challenge circle, she’d run straight into Rafe’s arms for comfort.
He didn’t mind the subsequent transfer of blood and guts onto his clothes—he was a doctor, after all. Very little made him squeamish. Still, the sight of her in his clothes had his cock hardening even more.
Morning wood had gone out the window the instant he saw her sleek, toned legs dancing across the room toward him. His erection, full blown now, tented the sheets, and for the first time in his life, Rafe was unashamed of his body as her glance, so hot with the fire stoked between them, raked over him. Delighting in him, his form.
She pounced atop him, giggling like a little girl as he rolled her over, the pair of them tumbling like they were in their beast forms. He could scent the other male on her, but it didn’t stir his beast’s ire. If anything, it enriched the perfume that was his mate, making her even more delicious to both man and Wolf.
Thalia panted as he began tickling her, but the sound wasn’t sexual. If anything, it was desperate. She began to squeal as he trailed his fingers down over her legs, up to the small of her back when her hips rocketed up, and he gained access there.
“Surrender! I surrender!” she squealed, and he had to laugh.
She’d survived a challenge with one of the meanest bastards the Summerford Pack had ever known, and yet, caved to his tickling.
Gods, could she be any more perfect?
He settled atop her, conforming his shape to hers like a heavy blanket, and pressed his forearms on to either side of her head.
She grinned up at him, looking light and carefree, as though yesterday had never happened.
Would he ever understand this woman?
He had a lifetime to try, but he knew she’d surprise him for the rest of his many years. Why? Because her strength was impossible to quantify.
He’d known strong women. Had even known Alpha females. But she wasn’t like them.
She was young. Even at twenty-seven, she was still considered immature to most of the pack. In their culture, the early forties could still be considered a time for experimentation and learning of one’s true self in preparation for mating.
But that was why her nature was so unique. So special.
Yes, she was young, but she’d shouldered so much in her few years. Had been enduring the difficulties of being the center of a prophecy, and had done so alone because her family hadn’t believed her. Hadn’t believed in her.
He pressed his forehead to hers at the thought. She jerked her chin up slightly so their lips could brush.
When they did, she quickly slid her tongue over the curve of his mouth. “You taste good.”
He snorted. “Hardly. Morning breath.”
Yeah, even Lykens had it.
She shrugged, and the motion had her wriggling like a puppy underneath him. Not that he minded when it meant she coated him in her scent, loading every inch of him with the claim that he was hers—so that no one around them, like his parents, could question it.
“I don’t care. You taste like mine.” Satisfaction warred with possessiveness in the depths of her topaz blue eyes.
He had to hide a grin at the inner battle. It was hard to believe anyone could be so damned pleased to have him.
Well, anyone Lyken.
In the human world, he was quite a catch. But not in the world that mattered to him, not where his home and family were concerned.
He rubbed his forehead against hers. “Thank you.”
She shot him a narrow-eyed glance. “For what?”
“Being mine.”
Her grin made another appearance. It was cheeky this time. “Ah, you did it all yourself, babe.”
He snorted. “I think the Mother had a hand in it.”
She shrugged. “Yup. But still, you could have been a jerk without her help. Instead, you’re sweeter than apple pie.” She turned her head slightly so she could return the nuzzling gesture.
Had their Wolves had the equipment, they’d have purred at the touch.
Though he knew now wasn’t the moment, he whispered, “Do we have to people today?”
It was her turn to snort and the tender moment was broken.
Had he known that would happen?
Maybe.
The idea of making love to his mate filled him with excitement, but at the same time, he knew, somewhere in his house, her second mate roamed around.
Mikkel wouldn’t have a Lyken’s hearing, but he…
Rafe just didn’t like the idea of him catching them in the act.
He knew he’d have to get over it, but he’d been dealing with the other man’s presence in his life for less than twenty-four hours. He figured he was allowed a small period of adjustment. Maybe another male would have wanted to stake a claim, but Rafe was ‘kind of’ Gamma. That wasn’t in his nature.
“How long do you want to stay in Austin?” Thalia surprised him by asking.
He frowned, having expected her to dictate that. Not that he thought she’d be bossy, but this new role of hers... they were only beginning to understand the ramifications of it. He’d have to cede to her until he could be of more use—and he fully intended to be useful. No way would he be a mate who’d drag her down. He’d do everything in his power to shore her up, make her invincible.
“Why?”
“Why am I asking you? Or why do I want to know?”
He thought about that. “Both.”
“I’m asking you because you’re part of the decision-making process, silly. I want to know because if you want to stay here a while then we can put certain things off for a short time.”
Things like a ‘meet the parents’ date.
Though the idea of delaying that meeting was heaven-sent, truth was, Rafe had no desire to stay in Austin.
Sure, this was home. And yes, this place was where he’d laid his head for the last two decades, and where he’d made his own particular haven. But that was long enough.
Thalia’s future as Triskele brought a whole different angle to their lives. An angle he’d never thought to explore, but things were changing.
He was changing.
Or maybe evolving was a more appropriate term.
He’d never been able to mind speak with anyone before. Yet last evening, during Thalia’s challenge, he’d managed to have a short conversation with her telepathically.
He hadn’t even known that was fucking possible. Then, he’d healed her. From a distance, dammit. Without touching.
It was a true ‘WTF?’ moment.
They needed to talk about that. Stat. But he just didn’t want to talk about it now. He was still processing. Shit, they all were.
“I guess we need to figure out what’s best for us,” he murmured softly. “And, to do that,” he continued after sucking in a deep breath, “Mikkel needs to be involved.”
He blinked, scoffed. “Hardly.”
She shook her head. “You’re too hard on yourself. You’re the most generous male I’ve ever known, do you realize that?”
He winced—as far as he was concerned, she hadn’t known enough generous people in her life.
Sure, she’d had a pampered childhood thanks to her upbringing. But pampered only materially. Not with love.
She hadn’t been cherished as she’d deserved. Neither had he for that matter.
Maybe that was one way they’d always be able to connect. Neither of them had been wanted, they’d both been cuckoos in their parents’ nests.
“Rafe?”
She broke into his thoughts with her soft whisper, and he angled his hand so he could sift through her hair a bit. “What?”
“I love you.”
He blew out a breath as her words sank into him. His soul absorbed them like Saharan sand would rain. “I love you too.”
It was crazy, and it was fast, and it was complicated, but… none of that mattered.
The love was there.
The connection, so young when it came down to the passing of the minute hand on the clock, was older than time itself. They’d been born, waiting to find one another. Now they were together, it was just a matter of the inevitable happening:
Their falling deeper into love with every passing moment.
He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to her lips. As they touched, the connection between them sparked to life. Their love was like a conduit of energy, he realized, fascinated. He could feel it in his arms and legs, his heart and mind. She was everywhere.
But now wasn’t the time.
“I can smell coffee,” he told her huskily. “Did you make it or did Mikkel?”
“Mikkel. I’ve been speaking to him. He’s cool.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Cool?” Hell, Rafe had never been cool.
“Like Captain America or something.” Her lips curved in a wry smile. “I think you’ll like him.”
“You do? Why?”
She wriggled her shoulders. “He’s very blunt. It’s charming.”
“I don’t need to be charmed,” he told her drily.
“No, but it’s just… I guess, makes it easy to like him? He calls a spade a spade. No BS.”
“The jury’s out for me. Although, he was helpful last night when you came out of the arena, so I’m grateful for that.”
Her light blue eyes, almost aquamarine in hue, turned a shade darker as a wistful cast overcame them. “You know I didn’t want to do that, don’t you?”
When they’d gotten her home from the challenge, she’d passed out almost immediately after he’d helped her get clean. On the drive over, in the shower even, she’d barely spoken. Had been close to an automaton.
He’d hated seeing her like that.
Thalia’s vulnerability hit him hard. Sometimes it was difficult to remember she was young when she showed maturity beyond her years. But, she was young. There was no taking away from that.
“Of course I know,” he chided her, watching as she licked her lips.
“I don’t want you to think I’m feral.”
“Your control was the stuff of legends, Thalia,” he assured her, meaning it too.
Torres’s family were lucky they were getting the bastard back with his head intact. He wasn’t sure many Alphas with the blood lust running high would have simply sliced the man’s throat. They’d have decapitated him and then mauled him.
“You were fair. You ceded to him when he called surrender. He was a jackass in life and death.”
She began to pleat his shirt where the hem met her knee. “Thank you.”
He sighed, sensing her vulnerability but also sensing she wasn’t in the right place, mentally, to talk about it. “That looks good on you.”
Peeping up at him from under her lashes, she grinned. “It does, huh? Someone has good taste in shirts.”
Laughing, he murmured, “My wardrobe’s your wardrobe?”
“Can I help it if you have more style than me?”
That had him laughing harder, then, when the scent of that damn coffee seemed to surge on a wave through his bedroom door again, he knew he had to concede defeat—he needed caffeine. Preferably on an IV.
“Is Mikkel still downstairs?” At her nod, he murmured, “Come on then. Let’s talk about what our next steps are. It’s a conversation we need to have with him.” And with coffee. Lots, and lots, and lots of espresso.
Thalia gnawed at her bottom lip. “I’m a lucky female.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” he replied gently, and was rewarded with the sweetest, most heart-melting smile he’d ever seen.
Sweet Gods, he’d kill to protect her, he knew. Kill to protect that smile, those lips, the heart of the dazzling creature who was his other half.
Shit.
Kill.
Him!
The thought had popped out of nowhere, but it was the truth. And he didn’t give a fuck if it broke the Hippocratic oath he’d taken all those years ago.
He’d do no harm, sure. So long as his mate was never in danger. So long as his family, the unit he was building with Thalia, was always safe and secure.
They, even the third male who was still a stranger to them, were all that mattered. And though he knew that meant he’d have to share Thalia, it was worth it because without her three mates, she was incomplete. Lost in a way he could never ease by himself. And that was simply unacceptable.
To protect her, their unit, he’d do whatever he must. Yes, even kill, Rafe knew, slowly coming to terms with that realization. Because Thalia was everything.
She was life.
She was love.
She was theirs.
** **
Thalia
Thalia’s feet padded against the swanky tiled floor of the kitchen.
She was used to opulence, had spent her formative years in a damn palace. But this was a different kind of opulence. It was practical too.
The kitchens of the palace weren’t glamorous as the leaders never ventured south to see them. The castle was only grand in the public and private areas. Wherever the TriAlpha would go, the place was fancy. Here, everywhere was fancy.
It was strange.
Still, she liked it. Preferred it even. Although, there was little point in her preferring it. After all, when she met her three mates, or whether the Mother blessed her before that and she fell pregnant, the instant the babes were born, she’d be back in the TriAlpha palace. Not as someone who was exiled, though. As one of the nation’s leaders.
Her lips curved at the thought.
How epic would that feel? To finally have dominion over her parents?
“That’s an evil smile.”
Her lips ceased curving and started twitching instead. “I’m not evil. I’m an angel.”
“Yeah, tell that to yourself,” Mikkel retorted, cocking his brow at her as he jiggled a coffee cup at her.
She winced and rolled up her shirtsleeves. “Don’t you have anything bigger than that? Like, anything not a thimble?”
Mikkel groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re a latte chick?”
She wrinkled her nose. “What’s wrong with latte?” When he groaned again, she laughed. “I’m not an ‘anything’ chick, to be honest. I haven’t had coffee for a very long time.”
He squinted at her. “You being serious?”
“Yep.”
“How come?”
“They said it made me hyperactive.”
Mikkel considered her a second. “You know that shit you pulled in the challenge circle?”
She blinked. “Yes. How could I forget?”
“That you being hyper?”
She snorted. “Nope.”
“What the fuck is hyper then?”
&nbs
p; “May we never find out,” Rafe murmured as he padded into the kitchen.
Unlike Mikkel who was dressed in pants and a shirt, somehow managing to make the simple clothes look remarkably elegant, Rafe wore nothing more than his underwear. Underwear, she’d actually left him to put on, because watching him cover all that was just a crime against nature. It was more than likely she’d never have let him out of the bedroom.
And, Gods love him, he was being generous. Inclusive of the stranger in his midst.
If she hadn’t loved him before, his insistence on making Mikkel a part of the decision making process had ramped up her feelings.
Still, as she watched him, saw the muscles in his torso and thighs flex as he moved, she felt saliva pool in her mouth as she watched him head toward the counter where he opened a cupboard, revealing lots of cups and mugs.
“Why do you have so many cups?” she asked, frowning at the lines of porcelain.
“Because my mother insisted I need them.” He laughed. “I do as I’m told as all good Lykens do.”
She winced. “I never got that memo.”
“You’re Alpha,” he murmured easily, retrieving some of the larger mugs. “I’m not.”
Biting her bottom lip, she cast Mikkel a glance and saw he was looking between them cautiously. “What?” she asked, when he didn’t say anything, just stopped watching them like he was at a tennis match and stared down into the deep, dark pool of his coffee.
“Nothing.”
“Bull,” she retorted, feeling aggressive and not sure why. “You have a problem with the fact he’s Gamma?” She pointed a finger at him. “I’ll have you know he isn’t Gamma. I don’t know what he is. Neither does a very respected Elder. Not that it would matter if he was Gamma,” she tacked on, a tad flustered. “He’s mine. That’s all that matters.”
Mikkel laughed as he held up his hands in surrender. “Princess, I meant no harm.”
That irked her even more because he wasn’t calling her Princess because it was her title. No, he was saying she was being too prissy. Strange that she knew that, she supposed, but their conversation in the early hours of the morning was a bridge that was slowly coming to life between them.
Huffing, she folded her arms around her waist and looked over at Rafe who was viewing her with tender eyes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I am what I am.”
Triskele (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 2) Page 4