Triskele (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 2)

by Serena Akeroyd

  “You too, Louis.” Mikkel bowed his head, but didn’t move.

  Louis huffed at the lack of respect but didn’t comment, then he turned to Rafe and murmured, “It’s good to see the youth of today haven’t all forgotten their manners.”

  Mikkel just snorted. “You’re not my TriAlpha. In fact, sir, you’re a pain in my behind.”

  “Still sore at being pulled off your team?” Louis wrinkled his nose as he cut his granddaughter a look. “Truth be told, I’m surprised you greeted me with a hug and a kiss. I thought I’d be in for a battering, that’s for sure.”

  Thalia grimaced at him. “If I weren’t so pleased to see you, you’d be in for worse than a battering. But as it stands, I can’t be too mad at you over it.”

  “Why not?” Louis asked, his scowl saying he didn’t trust Thalia’s reasoning.

  His distrust had his granddaughter laughing. “Because he’s my second mate.”

  Louis blinked. “He is?”

  “Yeah. I am.” Mikkel swallowed, the sound audible. Rafe wasn’t sure if that was because they were standing so close to each other, or if the noise was just too loud.

  “Well, I never,” Louis said on a soft breath and started to shake his head. “The Fates work in mysterious ways. I always said that.”

  “You always did,” Thalia murmured contentedly.

  Louis’s nostrils flared in a gentle rhythm as he picked apart the scents in the air. “It doesn’t scent like you’re bound. Unlike this young man here.”

  Rafe cleared his throat. “I’m Raphael Santiago,” he croaked out. “Your granddaughter’s first mate.”

  “I figured as much, son.” He strode over to him, tugged his arm and jerked him forward into a hug. Rafe just stood there, unable to believe he was being embraced by a TriAlpha, former or not, and tried to process exactly what steps he’d taken that had brought him to this moment…

  It truly was bewildering.

  “You look a little dazed, son.”

  “Just a little,” he managed to choke out as the older man stared down at him.

  “You’re not dazed, Mikkel. But you always were a rebel.”

  “How am I a rebel?” Mikkel argued. “I’m only not impressed by your exalted presence because I’m used to you, Louis.”

  “Too used to me,” Thalia’s grandfather groused. “No respect, that’s what it is.”

  Mikkel huffed. “I’ve seen you and my stepdad together. Smoking weed. When you see shit like that, you can’t take it back.”

  “Weed?” Thalia gasped. “Grandfather! Does Nanna know?”

  Louis shot Mikkel a dirty look. “Was that entirely necessary?”

  Mikkel’s grin said that yes, it was.

  Grumbling under his breath, he turned back to his granddaughter. “I’ve known Stephen a long time,” he argued. “Back when free love was all the rage, darling. It’s a hard habit to break.”

  “It’s not good for you!”

  “Well, it’s certainly not going to kill me, is it?” he countered. “I’m alive and kicking and will be for a hundred years or more.”

  “Intend on reaching Elder status, do you?” Mikkel asked, cocking a brow. “Bighead.”

  If Louis heard the disrespectful comment, he didn’t reply to it. “Come, it’s time to go inside. Your Nanna’s waiting for you.”

  “Weren’t you?” Thalia asked with a pout.

  “Why do you think I was in the garden?” he retorted. “Do I look like I’ve got green thumbs?”

  She snorted as she peered around the yard. “You don’t need green thumbs with this place.” Her nose crinkled again. “What’s with it, anyway?”

  “Ade’s idea,” Louis said with a shrug. “Designed it himself, and only the Goddess knows why but he and Rosa love it. I think he just wants to blind everyone in a ten mile radius. I swear, at midday, we look like we’re glowing!”

  Mikkel laughed at that, but Thalia asked, “You’re taking advantage of that, aren’t you?”

  Louis blinked as he curled an arm around her shoulder and started to walk her toward the wall of glass.

  Weird thing was, no door was visible so it just looked like they were walking into the wall. That is, until a space appeared, black as anything. So dark in contrast to the bright light from outside that Rafe’s eyes ached a tad.

  “How should we be taking advantage of it?” Louis asked.

  “Solar panels, grandfather. Honestly!”

  “Oh. I left that to Ade. I’d imagine so. You remember… he always was a conservationist.”

  Thalia beamed at him. “I’m glad to hear that hasn’t changed.”

  Louis bent down and bussed her temple. “Gods, it’s good to see you, Thalia. Our little conscience.”

  She squeezed her arm around his waist. “Same here, grandfather.”

  “Wasn’t sure if my idiots for sons would ever let us catch up before the ancestors called us home. I can rest easy now.”

  That had her scowling. “Less of the resting easy.”

  He chuckled. “I already told you, I don’t intend on going anywhere for the next century, but my sons are stubborn enough to wait that damn long.” His upper lip curled in a sneer. “How are they faring?”

  “Well, I’d imagine. They’re probably very happy now that I’m out of the palace.”

  The words contained not an ounce of self-pity, and perhaps that was why all three men cast a glance at one another, the pain they felt purely on her behalf.

  She beamed up at Louis, not seeming to notice the faint interlude. “I can’t wait to see Grandpa Ade and Matthew!”

  “They can’t wait to see you either,” Louis told her as he guided them all down a hallway that belonged in some kind of futuristic spaceport.

  When Rafe imagined these kinds of houses, he’d have thought they were purely hypothetical. Theoretically constructed in architectural magazines. Not actual edifices that people lived in.

  And certainly not ‘people’ who had to be two hundred years old at least.

  The hallway was like a runway. The floor was white but there was a grain to the marble that all seemed to point to the depths of the corridor. The walls were paneled with a beautiful maple, and that too seemed to have a grain that acted as an unintentional arrow pointing south.

  Overhead, the ceiling glowed a warm gold, muting the strength of the white floor.

  As they all gaped at the palace’s version of a hallway, Mikkel whistled. “I’m glad I’m not the one who has to mop this floor.”

  Thalia sniggered. “Me too.”

  “Me three,” Louis inserted drily. “Ade’s idea. Only because he doesn’t have to clean the damn thing. I swear, when I saw the designs, I thought he was joking.”

  “Why did you let him build it then?” Thalia asked.

  “Because Rosa liked it, of course.” Louis’ tone was part grumble, but the love he felt for his mate was quite evident too.

  Rafe couldn’t blame the man if the grandmother was anything like the granddaughter.

  Clearing his throat, he murmured, “What do we call you, sir?”

  “Not sir, that’s for damn sure,” Louis retorted, shooting him a look as he hauled an arm over Thalia’s shoulder. “My name exists for a reason.”

  Rafe winced. “I know, but…”

  “No buts.” Louis cocked a brow. “How old are you anyway?”

  “Fifty-eight.”

  Louis’ nose crinkled. “Ah.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mikkel demanded, stunning Rafe by slinging an arm over his shoulder.

  “It means I’m old enough to remember when…” Rafe coughed. “Louis was in power.”

  Mikkel blinked. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Really. TriAlpha only ascend once they’ve borne an heir,” Louis explained, then scowling at Thalia’s second mate, retorted, “Don’t they teach you anything in school these days?”

  “Not in human schools,” Mikkel sniped back, making Rafe wince at the other man’s ease with the ex-
TriAlpha.

  “Human schools?” Louis scowled. “You went to a Lyken school, didn’t you?”

  “No.” Mikkel snorted. “I’m not Lyken, am I?”

  “No, but you’re practically one. You were raised with them. Why didn’t you go to school with your siblings?”

  “The school wouldn’t let me. And it was a damn pain in the ass too. You know where mother and Stephen live,” he groused. “The Lyken school was nearer than the human school.”

  Louis braked to a halt. “You mean to tell me that you were kept from attending?”

  Mikkel shrugged. “Yup.”

  Louis’ mouth worked. “There’s no blaming my sons on this matter. I was reigning when you were a child.”

  “I guess. But I don’t really know.” He jerked a shoulder. “I had enough shit of my own to learn without learning yours too.”

  “Shame that, it would have put you in good stead,” Rafe murmured softly.

  Mikkel cocked a brow. “You tell my seventeen-year-old self that. It was bad enough studying the Civil War without having to know your drama as well.”

  Louis grunted. “I apologize, Mikkel.”

  “What for?”

  “For letting you down.”

  “You didn’t let me down.” Mikkel rolled his eyes. “It must run in the family.”

  “What must?” Rafe, Thalia, and Louis asked simultaneously.

  “The need to overstate things and apologize for shit that doesn’t require an apology.”

  “It’s called being polite and kind, Mikkel,” Rafe countered, amused at the man’s take on the situation.

  Mikkel just huffed, then he squeezed Rafe’s shoulder before releasing him. “I’m a big boy. I know how to ask for an apology if one’s required.”

  Louis shook his head. “Why you don’t require one now is more confusing than anything else.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, we shamed ourselves by letting you down, Mikkel. Just because you’re grateful you didn’t have two different sets of history classes, doesn’t make it right.”

  “He’s not wrong,” Rafe pointed out gently, and Mikkel’s mouth twisted at both Louis and his words.

  “Maybe he’s not wrong, but an apology isn’t going to get me enrolled in a fancy Lyken school now, is it? No point crying over spilled milk.”

  “We’re fortunate you don’t hold a grudge.”

  “Like you’d let me anyway,” Mikkel said wryly. “When you haul me out of my actual job, you know, fighting a war? To come and babysit someone who totally doesn’t need babysitting? I’ll assume you heard about what happened in Austin?”

  Louis grimaced, but he tightened his arm about Thalia’s waist. “Couldn’t help but hear,” he said with a nod. “Not sure whether to be proud or terrified.”

  Thalia laughed. “You can be proud. The terror isn’t necessary. I’m not rabid.”

  “No, she just has an overdeveloped sense of justice. She’s Wolf-Girl, or some shit like that,” Mikkel grumbled as the long-ass corridor finally gave way to a door.

  “Wolf-Girl?” Thalia’s nose crinkled. “What on earth?”

  “You know? Like Supergirl?”

  “I need a better superhero name,” she complained. “Wolf-Girl is crap.”

  Louis just laughed as he held out his free arm to pull open the door. “They’re all here, pet. Waiting for you.” As his hand closed around the doorknob, he murmured, “We’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

  She shivered at Rafe’s side, and he understood why those words would have such an effect on her. Thalia’s She-Wolf had been alone a long time… to be welcomed back into the fold, even if she’d never been tossed out of it, not by these people here anyway, well, it had to be a powerful moment for her.

  A poignant moment.

  She swallowed thickly and nodded. “I can’t wait to see them.”

  “Good,” Louis said, beaming, then he pushed open the door and drew the chaos to them.

  8

  Thalia

  The minute she crossed the threshold, she was encompassed in a hug.

  It was a hug that scented of lemon verbena, cinnamon, and sugar.

  Her grandmother’s scent hadn’t changed in years, even if, when Thalia pulled back to kiss her cheeks, the woman had.

  Faintly.

  Rosa Lyndhoven, though she was approaching her second century, looked like she was in her forties. And she was hot too. Even Thalia could admit that.

  Her hair was curled up in a high chignon that took it off her face and bared cheekbones that Thalia had inherited. They were ice pick sharp and perfectly framed lips that were currently slick with ruby red paint. Her eyes, a dark navy blue, were decorated with thick, curly lashes that had beads of tears in them as she stared down at her granddaughter.

  And her figure?

  Well, if Thalia looked like her Nanna when she hit two hundred, her mates were going to be very lucky men.

  “Oh, Nanna, I can’t believe I’m here. At last!” Her voice was hoarse with emotion, both excitement and fear, worry and wonder.

  She was scared she was going to wake up, while feeling wondrous at the knowledge this was no dream.

  This was happening.

  Her grandmother’s arms were around her, her other grandfathers were close, and at her back, were her two mates.

  Two.

  Mates.

  She’d been dying for them, on the inside, waiting for them, and they’d heeded her call almost instantaneously. Had appeared right when she needed them most.

  She shuddered in Rosa’s arms and let herself be kissed on the cheeks once more.

  “It’s wonderful to see you, my darling,” Rosa whispered, and having been in America for so long, she’d long since lost her Italian accent.

  Even the faintest traces that Thalia could remember seemed to have disappeared, which sucked. Because Rosa had told the best bed-time stories—Thalia had the sweetest memories of her grandmother’s Italian-tinged voice recounting some of the Brothers Grimm fairytales.

  “I love you, my darling,” she whispered fiercely, shifting her hands to cup Thalia’s face then anointing both cheeks with yet another kiss.

  “Stop hogging the girl,” Matthew grumbled, making Thalia squeal as she leapt out of one set of arms into another welcoming pair.

  Matthew squeezed her just as hard as Louis, and when Ade got his hands on her, she knew she was with the family who had always loved her.

  Flaws and all.

  Why her folks hadn’t just dumped her on her grandparents, she’d never know. Why keep her close, neglect her, when she could have been here? Safe, under the watchful eye of people who gave a damn about her, in whose best interests it was to keep her contained and secure?

  Thalia knew she’d throw that on the list of things she’d never forgive her parents for, but it was already higher than a mountain, so there was no point in tossing more shit against it.

  No amount of apologies would ever herald a halfway normal relationship between her and her parents. As sad as it was, it was also true. But she could cope with that as long as she had Rosa, Louis, Ade, and Matthew.

  When the scent of cigar smoke clung to her as she sank back on a low divan, her family and its newest members—her mates—around her, she cocked a brow at Ade. “Since when did you smoke cigars?”

  For a second, Ade’s mouth worked, then he glanced at Rosa who’d turned pink—like Thalia’s mother, she was only half-Lyken and therefore, had fewer powers and her senses were weaker. “You promised me you’d stopped!” she barked.

  “I did!” Ade winced. “I was at the golf club yesterday. You know everyone smokes there.”

  Rosa’s nostrils flared. “You had better not be bullshitting me, Ade.”

  He held up his hands. “On my honor.”

  “Oops,” Thalia murmured softly.

  Ade shot her a grumpy look. “Welcome back, Thalia,” he said drily.

  “Don’t be blaming our nipotina for sce
nting you!” Rosa pinned her other mates with hard looks. “You should have told me.”

  “There was nothing to tell,” Louis said easily. “Ade can’t help if his friends smoke around him.”

  Rosa just sniffed, indicating she didn’t fully believe that story. Her nose popped into the air a second, then she let her gaze drift over Thalia once more, and the fight seemed to leach from her. “Dio, it’s good to have you home, Thalia.”

  She couldn’t stop the smile from curving her lips, even as Rafe reached for her, his hand entwining with hers. Throw in the fact that Mikkel was sitting really close to her, his arm slung along the back of the sofa, bringing him in close proximity to her, Thalia wasn’t sure if she hadn’t just died and gone to heaven.

  Their scent surrounded her on all sides, and Thalia had the unhappy realization that she was starting to understand her fathers.

  She’d known Mikkel two days, Rafe less than three weeks, and already, she had killed for one of them… what would she do after three years? Thirty? A hundred?

  Anything.

  That was the truth of it.

  She would die for these men, so why wouldn’t her fathers die for her bitch of a mother?

  Gnawing at her bottom lip, Thalia watched as Louis started riling Mikkel who, characteristically enough, wasn’t taking it.

  For a man who fought over battle lines, he was surprisingly chill. Or maybe it was because he was a man who fought over them? She wasn’t sure which made more sense if she was being honest.

  “Who’d have thought you’d become one of us?” Louis murmured, but Thalia sensed by his tone he was pleased.

  Something Rosa seemed to pick up on too, for she snorted. “Look at you, strutting like a peacock. You’d think you were the Mother herself, bestowing mate bonds left, right, and center!”

  Louis bristled at that. “If it weren’t for me, they might not have met for years.”

  “If it weren’t for your meddling,” Rosa inserted drily. “Which, let me ask again, you did for what reason?”

  “Well, I didn’t know she could kill a Beta in his prime, did I?” Louis groused, and his tone settled something deep inside Thalia. Where there had been a kernel of guilt and fear of rejection, it started to unfurl.