Well, save for her mates. And that was different. What happened in the bedroom stayed in the bedroom, she thought, her lips quirking.
“You wish to fight, Mother?” Theo asked, his brow puckered as he unfolded his arms and strode toward the fencing behind which his parents were watching Thalia’s current lesson.
“I do. It’s been a while since I took part in a good challenge.”
Theo snorted. “I highly doubt that.”
Isaura’s grin was mischievous, and though Thalia didn’t exactly like the woman, she could see why Isaura managed to get her own way all the time. She’d charm the birds from the trees.
Oh, wait, she did that already.
Hence all the fucking birds that flew around the palace, shitting on everything, because, yeah. Even in Heden, the birds shit.
On every-fucking-thing.
It was gross and came with the territory here.
The men, however, her mates included, seemed to be charmed by Isaura’s coy smiles. Thalia wasn’t jealous, because she knew they’d rather gnaw their dicks off than fuck anyone other than her, but she was irritated by how Isaura could manipulate them.
Not that she did so often, because, Thalia was relieved to note, Isaura was actually busy most of the time ruling her kingdom, and didn’t have time to screw around with Thalia’s life.
Well, up till now.
She guessed that it had been two weeks since the last time they’d met, and that was something she ought to be grateful for.
“Are you certain you wish to play?” Kane asked, his voice dipping low as he turned toward his mate.
“Of course. When do I say something I don’t mean?”
Kane grimaced and shot Thalia a considering look. That look was a peculiar one. But then, Kane was peculiar all around. He wasn’t as powerful as Isaura, but at the same time, he was incredibly strong, and he had a way about him that seemed to read deeply into anything and everything he focused on.
Thalia didn’t doubt, with that one glance, he’d taken into account her stance, the way she held the sword, and a myriad of other things that weighed her up as an opponent.
When his mouth moued into the slightest of grimaces, and he dropped his gaze to his mate, Thalia realized something.
Kane knew she was better than Isaura.
Kane knew Isaura would not win.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t think it’s wise. Thalia could slip and injure you—she’s learning after all.”
The fact that he decided to appease his mate by dissing her only pissed Thalia off. She didn’t want to fight Isaura, wished the other woman would back the fuck off, but there was no way she was going to let Kane pander to the Queen’s ego by having her own talents be denigrated.
Because of that, because of Kane, she strode forward and with a small smile said, “I’d love to learn from you, your highness.”
Kane’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared; anger burned in his eyes before he banked it and turned a cool gaze on her. At her side and undoubtedly having caught the by play Thalia had picked up on, Theo just grimaced when Isaura smirked. “I have much to impart. I’m quite certain you’ll learn plenty from me.”
The woman’s smug tone had satisfaction surging through Thalia’s body—fuck, she couldn’t wait to take the woman down a peg or two. And though she was well aware that was mean, Isaura was that kind of woman.
The kind most women hated and that most guys really liked.
What has you so smug?
Thalia’s mouth dropped open before she quickly popped it shut, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that Rafe had just spoken. In her head.
Again!
Rafe? she queried, wondering what the hell had just happened to make that so.
She didn’t even have it in her to wince at the fact he called her smug when that was how she’d just described Isaura.
This is a good sign, Rafe said, sounding so sure that Thalia had to bite her lip.
It is? She really hoped so. Every day, she looked into the sword’s reflection and saw her She-Wolf. It made her feel trapped, enclosed, and she hated it. It made her more aggressive, made her need to fight harder, faster. Made her need to control this weapon as it tried, equally as hard to control her.
Yes. It is. What’s going on? Rafe’s voice was as clear as if he was beside her.
Which he wasn’t.
He was in their quarters.
Mikkel and he had swiftly grown bored of watching her whoop Fae butt, and Mikkel tended to head off to his own lessons while Rafe entertained himself back in their rooms.
She knew Theo had introduced him to one of the oldest living Fae—the librarian of the unimaginatively called ‘Great Library,’ and she was aware that he rushed through books like they were going out of style.
What he was learning seemed to vary. She’d ran her hands over the tomes he’d checked out and they covered the gamut of topics on healing, then others on weapons, war, politics. All of it related to the Fae.
It kept him entertained, a fact she was grateful for. He didn’t have all that much to do on this realm, and she was well aware of the fact that on Earth, he’d been a damn cardiothoracic surgeon! He’d gone from frantic, adrenaline-high days to lounging around reading dusty books on a species he didn’t even belong to.
Isaura has found me in the sparring ring, she informed him.
Rafe groaned. She wants to take you on, doesn’t she? I swear, that woman’s ego is huge.
Though Isaura charmed him, Thalia knew Rafe wasn’t confounded by her pretty smile and even prettier words. But then, Rafe had his feet firmly on the ground.
In more ways than one.
Yes. She’s so certain she’ll win.
Does that mean you think you can best her?
She had to hide the smile that longed to curve along her lips lest she communicate to Isaura, in any way, that the Queen’s win wasn’t guaranteed.
Yes, she told him simply, and hearing his laugh along the link that bound him to her made her shiver with delight. But also, with the unnerving sensation of hearing something that hadn’t actually made a sound.
At least, not in her vicinity.
This is weird, she blurted out.
I know, but we’ll grow used to it.
Did you try to talk to me before?
Yes. But it was like your radar was down or something. And then, I just felt you. Out of the blue. It was like the path between us had opened up again.
He sounded so giddy, so happy about it, that she couldn’t find it in herself to be freaked out for long about this method of communication they shared.
Okay, I need to go, she informed him, watching as Isaura began to stride for the sparring ring’s entrance. The fight’s about to start.
He snorted. Give her hell.
Oh, don’t worry. I will, she purred, and was relieved when he cut down the link between them.
The minute he did, the muttering and stirring in the crowd made itself known to her, and she realized they were watching her with a suspicion that hadn’t been there before.
Had they known she was talking telepathically?
Or were they just distrustful because she was about to take on their Queen?
Somehow, she didn’t think it was either, and more a case of her standing there, having a fucking conversation with the rest of the world zoned out from her cognizance.
That had to look weird as hell from a bystander’s point of view.
Rubbing her nose with her free hand, she strode toward the bench where she had a towel and swiped it over her still sweaty face. To the left, the entrance to the ring parted, and today’s instructor—a female called Lisze—exited, while the Queen entered.
Unlike Theo who clicked his fingers, Isaura gave no physical manifestation of her powers as she transformed out of a gorgeous toga that came in a periwinkle blue into an outfit that matched Thalia’s.
She’d long since graduated from a workout that was free from chainmail, and
realized that Isaura’s arrogance was her downfall because she should have taken Thalia’s lack of chainmail, as well as the gossip that had been spreading about her skill, into consideration before challenging her.
Just because her scent classified her as weak in Isaura’s eyes, did not mean that was the case.
Her short-sightedness was something Thalia looked forward to bringing to heel.
Swiping the back of her neck with the towel, she bounced on her feet a second before she jogged over to the opposite corner of the ring.
In the blink of an eye, Isaura had a weapon in her hand. It was pretty, too. Unlike Thalia’s that was relatively plain and most definitely fabricated for a man, Isaura’s was all woman.
It was gold and it was studded with gems all along the pommel. Even the blade was studded down its central line, where Thalia’s own name was engraved on her sword.
It was definitely a girly girl’s weapon, but Thalia was well aware that the other woman knew how to wield it, otherwise she wouldn’t have been so smug at the notion of taking Thalia down.
Unsheathing her sword from its scabbard, Thalia felt the connection hum to life between her and the blade. Over the past two weeks, that link had become stronger and stronger with each moment she spent with the weapon in her hand. With each thrust, and each lesson, it burned into existence, forging a path that was just as powerful as the mental one she shared with Raphael.
Oh, she knew it was insane. Who could communicate or commune with a weapon?
Well, apparently Thalia could, but for the first time since Bahkir, the Elder, had walked into her world, this was a first, outside of meeting her mates, that Thalia could embrace.
With the gladius in her hand, she was strong. Not invincible because nobody was—something Isaura was about to learn, more fool her—but powerful. Maybe not as powerful as she’d been with her She-Wolf, but close to on par because that was how great her skills were now with this crazy-ass sword.
The charge that shot down her forearm as she gripped the hilt tighter made the muscles of her bicep and triceps, as well as her shoulders and back, shore up. She felt herself grow lighter in some regards as she shifted her center of balance and took on a graceful pose that Theo had shown her that very first day.
It was kind of like fencing, and he’d used a lot of terms that she’d recognized from movies, but the sword made her dance to a song of its own making.
With her body now tuned into the blade, she watched as Isaura took a position diagonal to her. Theo cleared his throat, drawing Thalia’s attention his way.
He narrowed his eyes and mouthed, “Behave.”
She grinned, feeling satisfied once again at this very direct acknowledgment of her gifts with the blade.
Theo, like his father, was well aware that she could best his mother.
His eyes narrowed again, then he blew out a breath and lifted his hands in the air in a ‘Well, I tried,’ kind of way.
He had, she had to give him that.
Winking at him, he just huffed and stormed out of the ring leaving it empty, save for Isaura, for the first time in Thalia’s training. He’d been there with her throughout all her lessons, and with each moment spent with him, another bond had been forged.
Her love for him was just a small sliver of that link, as her mate gave her the power to defend herself. As he empowered her, wanting her to be as strong as she could be, needing that as much as he needed her.
It was wonderfully freeing, she realized, to be believed in so much by her mates. She’d never expected that, had never really hoped for it. She’d seen how her fathers were with her mother. Overprotective, clingy to the point of being irritating, all while refusing to believe that she was in anyway capable of handling things herself.
Thalia had always put that down to the fact her mother, like her grandmother Rosa, was half-Lyken, one of the rare children born to a human and Lyken partnership where the beast never actually formed and they were one hundred percent human.
But while they’d basically wiped her mother’s ass for her, she’d kind of expected similar treatment from her mates too, and that was the exact opposite of what she’d received.
And she felt so fucking lucky about that.
She didn’t need someone to hold her damn hand. She needed someone to roar her name from the bleachers, someone who’d celebrate her kicking ass, and who’d heal any injuries she earned while kicking said ass.
Her lips curved and Isaura’s eyes widened at the sight. Thalia figured she was expected to be shaking in her boots at the sight of the Queen’s fancy-ass sword, but instead? Thalia let the magic, or whatever the fuck it was, flow from the sword into her and she leapt into the fray.
Running headlong into the fight wasn’t always the best option, but in this, Thalia wanted to fucking dominate the ring, not be a pansy-ass who waited and watched. With her sword raised overhead, she slashed down and absorbed the hit as Isaura lifted hers, eyes widening more, to avoid the angle of Thalia’s sword.
What happened next was a flurry of movements that were as choreographed in Thalia’s mind as a fucking ballet would be. With Isaura’s arms raised to defend herself, Thalia lifted her leg and shoved it straight into the Queen’s belly. A chorus of ‘Gods’ echoed around the gymnasium in astonishment at the move, but Thalia didn’t give a fuck.
If someone wanted to fight her, she was going to give it everything she had.
The minute her foot connected with Isaura’s gut, the smugness disappeared from the other woman’s face and was replaced with a grim disdain—a resolve that said Thalia had asked for it and was about to get it.
Grinning, loving the extra challenge, she murmured, “Bring it.”
With a roar, Isaura leapt forward and she plunged straight in, aiming for Thalia’s belly. She slashed when Thalia pulled back into a pirouette that had her sword spinning with her. The move enabled her to connect with the Queen’s, and as she did, knocking the other woman’s blade away, Thalia took the opportunity to slash down at Isaura’s shoulder.
She stopped with a hair’s breadth to touching skin, then, she pulled back and tickled Isaura’s blade when she brought it forward to defend herself. The sounds of the metal scraping against one another had Thalia’s nerves dancing—not with unease but with delight. The sound shot shivers down her spine and she let out a cackle that had Isaura jolting in surprise and taking an involuntary jump back.
With one arm raised at the back for balance, Thalia didn’t let Isaura run off. She parried, striking Isaura’s defensive stance and pushing the other woman into the corner she’d started from.
With each inch Thalia gained on the Queen’s side of the ring, she felt triumph roar through her. Not that she was considering herself the victor prematurely; more than anything, she was just loving the fight.
The Queen was most definitely aiming to hurt, and though Thalia knew she couldn’t because Isaura would probably have no compunction in punishing her, she relished the challenge. Relished the first real chance she had to truly dominate this match without a competitor who wasn’t holding back because Theo was watching on, glowering at her instructors, the promise of death in his eyes as they fought.
When Isaura thrust forward and then back, the movement a quick jab, her elbow connected with the protective wall of the ring. The move had her jumping and momentum had her sword arm jerking low. Said movement lowered her defenses entirely and with a wide grin, Thalia lifted her sword and pressed the tip to Isaura’s throat.
“I win,” she whispered, and knew the silence in the gymnasium was from astonishment.
Isaura, and this came as no surprise to Thalia, was not a happy loser. She narrowed her eyes and spat, “You cheated.”
Thalia laughed and didn’t move the tip of her sword from the Queen’s throat. “I did? When?”
“I-I don’t know but you had to.”
“Why? Because you’re so good?” She cocked a brow then, knowing it was audacious, winked at her. “I think I’m better.
” With another grin, she jumped back and Isaura’s eyes flared with outrage.
“The best out of three,” she called out.
Thalia just shrugged. “Sure.”
****
Theo
“Your mother must be insane.”
Kane’s whisper had Theo jerking in surprise. He hadn’t gone to stand beside his father to watch the match, because he was not only mad at Kane for not stopping Isaura from issuing the stupid challenge in the first place, he also wanted a better vantage point to watch Thalia’s movements.
She was so fucking clean with her sword, it was like watching some kind of ballet. He’d never seen anyone more natural with the weapon. It was more of an extension of her arm than something she had to use to defend herself. She swung it as though the weapon didn’t weigh a good twenty pounds, and she wielded it with an ease that reminded him of Tinkerbell waving her magic wand—yeah, that’s how easy she made it look.
And as Thalia won the third out of three rounds with his mother, and the fact she made it look easy as fuck, almost blew his damn mind because Isaura was the best swordswoman in the kingdom.
And that wasn’t because she was the Queen and, unlike Thalia who was pulling back from outright injuring his mother, her challengers let her win, Isaura was seriously good.
It was how she’d become Queen. She’d slain the last sovereign on the battlefield, and there were chronicles about that bloody feat.
Isaura’s skill was legendary.
And Thalia had just beaten her.
Three times.
Not even Theo was sure how she’d done it. But he’d watched her thrust, parry, jab, swipe. He’d seen his instruction in her style, had also taken note of the other teachers’ styles that he’d had training with her.
She’d absorbed it all like a fucking sponge. Like she’d been raised fighting with a fucking sword. Like she’d never not had the damn sword in her arsenal. Like, he thought dazedly, she’d been training for twenty years. Not two weeks.
Triad (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 3) Page 20