He groaned as he saw Sara sweep outside guiding four different men with her.
She caught sight of him in the water, narrowed her eyes at him, then with her thumb, motioned for him to get out of the pool.
“We have been summoned,” Mikkel said, his tone amused.
“Yeah. Great.” He groaned when he saw his father come out to inspect the dishes that were being retrieved from the special boxes the delivery men were unpacking.
“She hired caterers?” Thalia asked, her nose wrinkling as she made no move to get out of the water.
“Yeah,” Rafe murmured. “She normally does the cooking. I’m surprised.” Dressed in black pants and shirts that they had to be regretting in the heat of the day, the men unpacked enough food to feed the clan twice over.
His nose scented everything from pizza to adobo beef.
Even though he wanted to stay away from his father, he really wanted some of the chicken and pesto pizza he knew his mother would have ordered especially for him.
“Damn, I don’t have your nose and that smells good.”
Thalia huffed a breath. “Men.”
Rafe and Mikkel shared a look then laughed. “Aren’t you hungry?” Mikkel inquired.
“I guess,” she grumbled.
Mikkel surprised both of them, Rafe thought, when he moved over to where she was standing. Rafe eyed them as Mikkel slung an arm around her shoulder and used it to hook her and drag her near. “I know you’re hungry.”
“I guess I could eat.”
“You don’t eat enough,” Mikkel said simply even as he turned back to look at the caterers. “I bet they’re gonna load up that epic grill of Rafe’s and you could have a juicy steak.”
“Of ours.”
Both of them looked back at Rafe with a frown. “Huh?” Mikkel asked.
“Our grill,” Rafe corrected, even as he stepped closer to them. “What’s mine is yours now. That’s how it works.”
Mikkel’s eyes flashed with confusion. “What if you don’t have much to give?”
“Then it’s a good thing I have too much, isn’t it?” Rafe retorted drily, sliding his hand around Thalia’s waist, sandwiching her firmly between them.
“Overachiever,” Mikkel said with a snort.
Rafe laughed, and it was so remarkably liberating that he shocked himself. He knew his family felt the same way too.
“Why are they staring at us?” Thalia asked quietly when the twenty-five strong party of his family turned toward the pool to gape at them.
Rafe felt heat flush his cheeks. “I guess they’re not used to seeing me laugh?”
Tension filled Thalia. This time, when her She-Wolf began pacing, he truly felt it. Not like an echo, or a shadow, but as though he could literally see her.
He felt his own heart speed up, his own hackles rising. Choking out, “Thalia, calm down,” he watched as she glanced at him with a scowl.
“What? Why should I? You’re nearly sixty, Rafe. In sixty years, they haven’t heard you fucking laugh?”
“There isn’t much to find funny at these kinds of events,” he mumbled in his defense.
Her lips flattened. “I don’t like this. I don’t want them here.”
Mikkel heaved a sigh. “Tough.”
She stiffened. “Huh?”
“I said ‘tough.’” When she gaped at him, Mikkel stunned them all—himself included, Rafe thought—by dropping his head and pressing a kiss to Thalia’s nose. “They’re his family, Thalia. Sometimes, family can be dicks. Just means we don’t have to see them often, but when we do, we bite our tongue and deal with it.”
“But they made him miserable,” she argued.
“So? Most family does. It’s what they do,” he countered with a chuckle. “At least, human families.”
“Lyken ones too,” Rafe confirmed with a grunt.
“He hasn’t laughed around them, Mikkel. Why should I acknowledge them when they’ve made him so miserable?”
“Because they’re his kin. You put up and shut up today, and we don’t have to see them again until next year,” he soothed, tightening his arm around her shoulder.
Though she was stiff, Rafe watched Thalia relax a little into Mikkel’s embrace.
Over her head, Mikkel flashed Rafe a concerned look—widening his eyes and raising his shoulders in a tiny shrug. It seemed Mikkel had sensed Thalia’s She-Wolf too.
Was that the mate bond at play?
Or had she been projecting?
She could do that, Rafe had seen it when she’d confronted her father’s council. And then, in the plane when she’d blown her top and her shift had broken down into that mind-bending deceleration where, for countless seconds, she’d been non-corporeal.
For the rest of his life, Rafe knew he would never be able to unsee such a sight.
Unease filtered through him, but he refused to allow any tension into his body because if her She-Wolf, who was prowling around, sensed his agitation, she’d react further.
Soothing a pissed-off wolf wasn’t on his to do list today.
When his mother made another ‘haul ass’ gesture, he sighed. “I think we need to make an appearance.”
“I don’t want to,” she grumbled, turning her face into his shoulder. When she pressed a gentle kiss to his trapezius, he tried not to melt, he really did.
“Well, we’ll have to wait now,” he groused.
“Why?”
“You just gave me a hard on.”
She stiffened. “I did not.”
“You did too,” he teased, just to see that wide-eyed look aimed his way.
She peered down through the water and gaped. “Seriously?” she whispered, her attention entirely off the party making a shit ton of noise on their terrace.
“Seriously. Have a feel,” he told her casually. “See for yourself.” He jibed her, hoping she’d do it, not because he felt like being teased, but said teasing had made the She-Wolf cease her pacing.
Making a mental note that humor and sex would calm the creature, he stifled a sound that was half groan and half laugh when she tenderly patted the front of his board shorts.
“You really are,” she whispered, glassy-eyed now as she began licking her lips.
“That’s enough of that,” Mikkel retorted, reaching over and grabbing her arm. “Let’s keep the hands where we can see them. If Sara motions any harder for us to come over, she’ll give herself a hernia.”
Though Rafe snickered—his madre was definitely waving her hands through the air like a drunk cheerleader halfway through practice—he stiffened and his erection disappeared when his father scowled over at him.
Clenching his teeth, he gritted out, “We’d best go over.”
She stunned him by, quick as a flash, grabbing a hold of his chin and forcing him to look down at her. “You’re mine,” she told him, her tone like gravel. “I protect what’s mine.”
The words didn’t come from her.
How he knew that, he wasn’t sure.
If they had, he might have been put out. He hated the reminder that he needed her protection, but this was her She-Wolf.
“I know,” he told her solemnly. “And you’re mine. You shield me, I save you from yourself. Don’t forget that.”
At his words, the flat look in her eyes disappeared. He recognized the start of a half shift and wanted to wince.
“Thalia, the kids will be introduced to you. I need you, not your bitch, in control.”
The piercing hazel eyes retreated. “Of course,” she told him easily, like her She-Wolf hadn’t just conversed with him. Albeit shortly.
As regal as the queen she would be one day, she began to pull herself from the water. The sight of her ass, a curvy luscious handful, caught his attention—Mikkel’s too, by the looks of it.
He watched the pull of the muscles in her arms as she hauled herself all the way out. Kneeling, she held her hand out for him. “Together,” she said softly.
He nodded. “I’m just going to use the s
tairs.”
Her head tilted to the side. “Why?”
He felt his Adam’s apple bob as he glanced over his family who were half-watching the three of them. “Because I prefer to.”
Mikkel climbed out too, the move easy. His strength evident.
When both of them frowned down at him, he ignored them and waded over to the steps. Climbing out that way, he joined them seconds later and immediately wanted to be back in the cool depths as the heat of the morning hit him.
She grabbed a firm hold of his hand and tightly clasped his fingers. He wasn’t sure whether the reassurance was for her or for him, but he appreciated it either way.
As they neared the tables—the caterers had also brought some along with them, and he realized how much thought had gone into this party—he wanted to scowl at his mother.
She could have asked or at least warned them that she was planning something.
Still, he knew better than to question.
Though they rarely got along, his father upheld his mother’s decisions.
Being poisoned by one’s mate had a habit of doing that to a man.
If Carlos thought he was being disrespectful, he wasn’t above beating Rafe as punishment. And that was the last thing he needed today—his mate, and Thalia’s second mate, witnessing him having his ass kicked by a man forty years older than him.
Tension constricted his chest, but he pushed it aside.
He wasn’t the same man who’d been beaten by his father so many times. He was no longer the Gamma who was scared to climb out of the pool in front of his siblings in case his arms weren’t strong enough to haul himself out of there.
His throat clutched with the remembered humiliation of two years ago—it had been one of the trigger points for him starting to go to a human gym.
He’d needed, badly, to gain muscle and weight. He’d never have gotten any help from his pack. They kept Gammas small for a reason.
“What are you guys doing here?” he called out, his voice huskier than he’d have liked.
“To celebrate your mate bond, of course,” his mother declared, clucking her tongue at him as though he were an idiot for not having figured that out sooner.
Maybe he was, because he didn’t see why him being mated necessitated a BBQ.
“We’re leaving shortly for the airport.”
Sara’s face fell. “You are? And you weren’t going to come and say bye to us?”
Rafe frowned. “When have I ever?”
Sara cut Thalia a look. “You’re mated now. Things change.”
“Why? Because she’s a Princess?” At Mikkel’s words, which were the verbal equivalent of a gauntlet, everyone froze.
Then, they flushed.
Even his father.
Which was like making a miracle, in reverse, happen.
“No, of course not,” Sara blustered.
Mikkel stepped forward and picked up a piece of pizza. Before he took a huge bite, he murmured, “Sounds that way to me. You weren’t interested in Rafe before, but now he’s got a mate, and not just any mate, but the TriAlpha’s daughter, you’re throwing BBQs?” He sniffed. “Smell some BS around here, guys?” Then, he gnawed down on the pizza, blankly looking around Rafe’s sheepish family.
It had long since past the point where Rafe could feel much pain by their treatment of him. More than anything, he was ashamed.
What must Thalia think?
And then, he had to laugh, because however much his parents and siblings were dicks, they hadn’t locked him in his bedroom for a decade and made Rafe turn half-feral.
Yeah, TriAlpha: 0. Mom and Dad: 1.
“We wanted to get to know the new member of the family,” Jenna murmured, her tone as pleasant as she could make it which made it a few notches below catty.
“I didn’t realize you were pregnant,” Rafe murmured, before he realized how unpolitic that was of him.
Jenna’s eyes flashed with annoyance as the rest of the family gasped in pleasure. “Thanks for that, Rafe!”
“Mija!” Sara cried and waylaid her daughter to kiss her roundly on both cheeks. Before Rafe could say another word, the rest of them had hugged and congratulated her and Liam, her mate.
But when Jenna glowered at him after her belly had been patted for the final time, Rafe shook his head. He sniffed the air cautiously, aware that a conversation was going on around him, but something was wrong.
He strode forward, then halted when he felt pressure on his hand. He blinked down at it, saw it was covered by Thalia’s. When he looked into her eyes, she stared at him in concern, then when he just stared blankly at her, she didn’t relinquish his hand but moved with him.
“Something doesn’t scent right,” he said softly, grateful the kids had run off to the pool in the chaos of Jenna’s congratulations—Thalia and his nephews and nieces had been spared the courtesy of a formal introduction.
Jenna scoffed. “How would you know?”
“I’m a healer, Jenna,” he retorted, his tone as cool as he could make it. “A Pack Healer. You might only see me as your Gamma little brother, but there’s protocol that a Pack Healer has to go through to reach that level. I attained that and more. I’m more than qualified to treat you.”
“Well, I’d prefer to head into San Antonio. I like the healer there. She’s Beta.”
“Well, she’s also a fool,” Rafe snapped, irritated at the news. His sister was traveling seventy-plus miles so she could avoid being treated by him. “When was the last time you saw her?”
“Really? Is this necessary?” Jenna demanded, sounding bored. He half-expected her to start studying her nails.
“Jenna, let him see to you,” his mother said, sounding uneasy. She cast looks between him and Thalia, and he realized his mate was bristling at his sister’s treatment of him.
He squeezed her hand, and without heat, repeated, “When did you see her?”
“Four days ago,” Jenna bit off tightly, for the first time, resting her hand on her belly.
It wasn’t her first litter, and she’d always been a strong mother, but…
He held out his free hand. “May I?”
“If you must,” she snapped, shifting her own away because, Gods forbid, they might touch.
“I need my hand, love,” he told his mate quietly. She immediately relinquished it, but pressed close to him, as though trying to shore him up.
He was touched, and inwardly, he appreciated it, but the irony was, this was the one place he didn’t need confidence. The one time where he knew exactly what he was doing and then some.
He pressed his palms to the small crown of his sister’s stomach and immediately started shaking his head.
“You fell,” he murmured quietly. Rafe’s powers came through touch. When he pressed his hands to an injured area, when he held down tightly, he created heat.
That heat was absorbed by his patient, and with the power that was Gods’ granted, it gave him several impressions.
It told him where the injury was, how it happened. If it was bad enough, there was a memory linked to it.
Spraining an ankle by falling over a kid’s rollerblade wouldn’t cause anxiety, just pain.
When anxiety was born, it seemed to sink into the muscles around the wound, creating a memory that he could read into.
It was, he realized however, the first time he’d done this since he’d met Thalia.
Something was different. Something was…
Stronger?
He just wasn’t sure what exactly.
“You fell,” he repeated, this time stronger, surer. He felt his brow pucker as the muscles told their own tale. “Liam hit you. You fell down the stairs.”
Gasps sounded around them, shooting up like a symphony around him.
He wasn’t even aware of what he was saying. Not really. The information fell from his lips, but his brain was otherwise engaged on focusing the power in his hands into Jenna.
“The babies won’t survive,” he continued s
adly, genuine remorse filling him and he felt his mate’s hand on his shoulder.
She squeezed, and he felt her sorrow as well as her support.
The heat sank deeper as he felt the memory of Jenna’s sobs as she cried after her tumble down the stairs. He could see Liam begging for forgiveness, carrying her to the sofa where they stared down at the still growing bump.
“You thought because there was no blood, you’d be okay…” he trailed off, then, he saw a small spark. A spark that connected with the heat he poured into Jenna.
Eyes flaring wide, he murmured, “You need to go to the hospital.”
His sister’s face was mottled with horror, sadness, and rage. He knew where the latter was aimed, not at her partner where it rightfully rested, but at him. Horror and sadness told him, however, that she believed him.
“You’re wrong,” she whispered, her words counteracting her expression.
“No. I’m right. But if you go now, they might be able to save one.” He swallowed. “You were having twins.”
Her mouth firmed. “You’re wrong.”
“No. I’m right,” he said angrily. “You’re wasting time. His life force is diminishing every moment you spend arguing with me.
“Is that what you want? You can go to the clinic for a D & C,” he said, knowing the words were cutting, but vital nonetheless, “or you can go and save one of the pups.”
She swallowed thickly, and for a second, he felt sure he’d gotten through to her. “Why would I take a Gamma’s opinion into consideration?” she sneered.
“If I’m wrong, then…”
“Dios mio,” Sara hissed and knocking Rafe out of the way, she grabbed a hold of Jenna’s shoulders. “Are you really going to risk both your babies’ lives out of some stupid prejudice?” She moved one hand to encompass the house behind her. “I love you, querida, but you’re a secretary. For a small time administrator in a middle level corporation. You’re nothing special. None of my daughters were. But my son? He made something of himself, even when he shouldn’t have. When everything was going against him.
“Look at this place. You think the humans gave him this house? You think they put the thousands of dollars into his bank account on a whim? Be sensible. Use the brain I know the Gods gave you and save one of your babies.”
Triskele (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 2) Page 12