Table of Contents
The Void
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To be continued…
Trinity
The TriAlpha Chronicles: Book One
Serena Akeroyd
The right of Gemma Mazurke to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author.
Copyright © Gemma Mazurke 2018
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The Void
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To be continued…
DEDICATION
To the ladies that made this possible.
Deanna: for your patience and killer organizational skills that keep me in line—even if I go rogue from time to time. For hearing out my crazy storylines, for talking me down from difficult situations, and for being a true, true friend that I let down this summer. Thank you for being there even if I’m a crazy cat lady in the making. <3
Caitlin: for your eagle eyes, patience, and for generally listening to me whine about shopping carts outside my window at 4am.
Heather: for your feedback and the fact that you read faster than the speed of light so I never have to wait too long to know if a book is shit or not. Haha.
Brandi: for your help and for the fact you’re willing to let me pick your brains about malted milk and morning sickness. (No, readers, I’m not pregnant… but a character in another series might just be. ;))
And, without doubt, and the last but by no means the least: my mum. She’ll never read this as, irony of ironies, she hates reading. She’ll never know I dedicated this book to her, but I know it, and you, my readers, know it too. She’s kickass, remembers the shit my brain just won’t, prompts me, prods me, and supports me. I love you, mum. Thank you :*
The Void
“Darlings, it’s beginning.”
At Terra’s back, Caelus and Aer stirred. Aer’s cock nudged her behind, and Mare’s prodded her belly, anointing the soft flesh with a wet kiss of pre-cum.
A purr escaped her even as she felt Mare move down, too tired from the night before to start something, his intent to use her breasts for a pillow. “What’s starting?” he grumbled.
“Thalia’s awake.”
The easy air, the contented environment of lovers well-sated, disappeared in a flash.
Caelus jolted upright. “She’s awake?”
“Aye,” Terra murmured, waiting for her consort to glance down at her.
When he did, he frowned, and his shoulders relaxed some. “You’re not concerned?”
“Of course not,” she chided, wriggling slightly as Mare, at her words, calmed and curled his tongue about her nipple. “She’s formed in my image, is she not?”
At her back, Aer rocked his hips. “Gods save the world if she’s like you.”
“Saving the world? That’s exactly what we’re doing,” Caelus said grimly, his tension making a reappearance.
“We’re protecting our children,” Terra murmured, unlike her love, she wasn’t concerned. Thalia had been born for a purpose. Just as Terra had. Just as the four of them had.
Caelus ran hands through his shaggy blond locks. “We should do something.”
She watched him leap from the divan that was strewn with silken sheets and begin to pace their sleeping quarters. Tilting her head to the side, she tried not to focus on the fingers that Aer had slipped between her thighs, and told her concerned lover, “We have done something. We can only wait until she’s older now. Time, Caelus, is our friend and our enemy. We must be patient.”
“I can’t,” he said, his voice hoarse as he turned to her, the strain on his beautiful features hurting something inside her.
“You must,” she told him, tone gentle but firm. With a beckoning hand, she summoned him closer. “Come to me, my love. Let me ease you.”
Aer turned back to Caelus. “Let us ease you.”
Caelus released a shaky sigh but he took a step toward the rumpled bed. “She’s going to suffer.”
“Aye,” Terra agreed sadly. “But only then will she understand.” When his mouth tightened as he crawled on the divan towards her, coming to settle atop her as he ignored the other males bracketing her, she reached up to kiss him. Just a peck, at first. “All will be well.”
He swallowed thickly and pressed his forehead to hers. “I hope you’re right.”
Mare heaved an irritated breath; she wasn’t sure if the irritation came from Caelus’s words or the fact he’d been denied access to her nipple. She smiled at the thought, then her smile merely grew when he grumbled, “When isn’t she?”
Because her love spoke correctly.
Terra was always right, except when...
No. She wouldn’t think of that. Couldn’t think of the many mistakes she’d made. She had to focus on the good she’d done.
Thalia was awake, and now, some of Terra’s wrongs were about to be righted.
The baby who had just taken her first breath was the key to that.
Sometimes, even a Goddess and her Gods simply had to have faith.
1
Present Day
Austin, Texas.
"You're going to have to stand up for yourself eventually, Raphael," Laura Santiago spat, her words sizzling with anger as she pressed a bag of frozen peas to her brother's swollen and bruised cheek. He grunted as cold met the sore heat, but that only seemed to exacerbate her anger. "I mean, Gods, you're Gamma but it doesn't mean you have to just roll over and let them beat you. Damn it to hell, Rafe!"
He adjusted the ice-cold bag, it touched tender skin causing him to hiss; Rafe released another grunt then shrugged his bruised shoulder in lieu of a reply. The grunt lengthened out into a faint groan as the shrug acted like seismic activity in his body, triggering earthquakes of pain. He wished a Lyken’s metabolism didn’t run through Ibuprofen like a post-high pothead ran through brownies and Peeps.
Laura clucked her tongue as she pulled aside the ripped and torn shirt, saw the cuts and bruises that turned her brother's tanned flesh into a rainbow of colors, then gritted out, "You're going to have to go to the Alpha. You can't let
this continue. They'll kill you eventually."
Rafe's nostrils flared as he grabbed a hold of the bag of peas and stumbled to a standing position. Dizziness assailed him, and he thanked the Gods for his Lyken blood for, without a doubt, had he been a human he'd have been on a life support machine and in a barbiturate-induced coma right about now—and he was a fucking doctor, so he’d be the one to know.
Those bastard Betas had kicked his head so many fucking times, Rafe could still see stars. As it was, his right eye was practically glued shut, and the other had swollen into something that would make even a boxer wince. He could just see through the slits that were now his eyes, and with that hampered vision and more aches and pains than even morphine could take away, he'd managed to stumble to his sister's home, knowing that she'd help him. His older sister’s place had been nearer to the shit-strewn alley where he’d been beaten, but Jenna was more likely to sneer at him for being a weakling than to willingly offer him a safe haven until he could make his way home.
To everyone else in his family, he was persona non grata in this state. That was the norm when a Gamma, the lowest of the low in Lyken society, made an ‘appearance’ in the litter of a Beta household.
So, here he sat, in Laura's old-fashioned kitchen, his slitted gaze taking in the worn and shoddy vinyl floor that had been new about three decades ago. Contemplating his life, because simply existing was his current problem.
Fuck, he was sick and tired of being a Gamma.
He said as much out loud.
Laura sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Not your fault,” he half-lisped now that his lip had started swelling.
As a child, being Gamma hadn't been so bad. Sure, it had still been shit, but now Jason Torres had come into power in the council hierarchy, he seemed content to make Rafe's life a misery. As a child, he'd been a mean bully but now he had power and was an official Beta for the council? He was like a mini-tyrant. And Rafe wasn't the only one suffering.
All the Gammas were.
From birth, parents could scent their child’s rank. It was a bizarre concept to him, but he’d seen enough children being born to witness that flaring of the nostrils that indicated a new father was testing their baby’s scent. He’d watched more times than he could count as they’d run their nose along their offspring’s cheek, then, with a delicate touch, would brush noses in an Eskimo kiss before the father would declare the babe’s ranking to the mother.
Said rank was made official in the Lyken version of a baptism, and from that day on, their lives would follow a predetermined course—something that had changed very little in the past two hundred years. Alphas and Betas had different life paths to Omegas and Gammas, for example. The former were given the most opportunities, leaving the latter to fight for every scrap they were begrudgingly handed.
Only Alphas and Betas could take places of power in the pack, and when a ranking Beta became a council Beta? Shit got real. And that was why Rafe’s life was now a living hell.
He wasn’t alone though. Torres was a despot, making everyone under him—a shit ton of people—quake with terror when he so much as looked at them.
Even the females weren’t safe, and that pissed Rafe off more than anything.
Not a week passed when his ass wasn't being kicked, but today, he'd been a real punching bag. Whatever had pissed Jason off, he'd borne the brunt of it and fuck, everything hurt. To breathe was painful. To listen to his sister's scolding was literally making his head ring with sound. But he was male, he could take it. The female Gammas had to put up with verbal, physical and emotional abuse. And only two weeks before, that had turned sexual. Dozens of them had been raped.
Dozens.
So many women, so much suffering, and Rafe, with his unique talents, had to endure it all with them. Suffer as they suffered.
It was killing him.
Sometimes, he thought helping to heal Torres’s victims was harder than the asskicking the Beta dealt out on the regular.
Naturally, the bastard had said it was all consensual, and the council, being the asslicking Alpha and Beta groupies they were, had believed his BS, then had gone on to tell Sarah Lewis, the first woman brave enough to come forward, to stop whining.
His lips tightened at the memory.
Fucking whining.
When Torres had…
His throat closed. Rafe didn’t even want to think about it, couldn’t think about it.
With his breaths escaping in soughing huffs, as well as the fucking agony of simply inhaling and exhaling, he knew he'd broken a rib. Clutching his side, he hobbled about the kitchen, trying to ease the aches and pains that were assailing him. Rafe knew from long practice that to sit still would only make him stiffen up, which would just make it hurt longer. Slight movement might make him feel on the brink of death, but it helped in the long run.
Without having to even turn around and look at his sister, he knew her mouth was about to open for a further scolding. Instead of allowing her to speak, knowing exactly what she was about to say, he decided to cut her off, "There's no point in going to the council. What the fuck can they do? Torres will just lie and they'll believe him. His behavior isn't considered to be..." Rafe sighed— immediately regretting it as a wave of agony washed through him, making sweat pop out of every single pore—still perplexed at the outdated reasoning. "Well, it's not considered to be wrong, is it, Laura? You know that bitter truth as well as I do. He's at the top of the food chain so he can be as big a bastard as he wants."
"But it's not fair!"
His nostrils flared at her cry. What did she want him to do? Disagree?
"You're damned right it isn't fair! Hell, Laura, you think I don't know that? I'm Gamma, not a fucking moron! If they’re not going to help Sarah Lewis, then why should they help me? I’ve only taken a beating. That’s nothing in comparison to what they did to her. Hell, they’re deaf to Gammas, you know that." And if anyone knew what Sarah had gone through, it was him.
Rafe had seen and felt the ghostly touches of that bastard as he’d forced himself on her. No one could or would understand Sarah’s agony, but Rafe could more than empathize.
Laura winced, then reaching over to where he’d slumped on the table, raised a gentle hand to curve about his battered cheek. "You're going to have to do something. You can't let this go on, Rafe."
Through the swollen gashes that were his eyes, he looked at his sister's concerned face. Even though every single muscle hurt, Rafe smiled as much as his lips would allow. He couldn't help it, and it was even worth the discomfort. She was so sweet when worked up into a frustrated rage.
And that’s all this argument would ever do.
Cause frustration and more anger, because the pack council was more likely to listen to a Pride council than they were to hear and act on their Gammas' words.
No amount of bitching would ever change that.
"I don't know what the hell you're smiling at, Raphael Santiago! This is no joke."
"Did I say it was funny? I’m smiling at you," he lisped and then, hearing his voice, grimaced. Lifting a hand, he fingered his lips and felt the cuts and engorged flesh there. Fuck, they'd done a real number on him. "Are you wishing you could come to my aid like you did on the playground?"
Laura scowled. "Why the hell you couldn't have my ranking is beyond me. Sometimes, I think Mother Nature can be a cruel bitch. It’s not like I even need it. It would have been so much better for you to have been the Beta. You’re so damn smart and wasted being a Gamma."
Rafe shook his head—then regretted it afterward. "Don't say that. We're what we are for a reason."
Sighing, she shrugged. "I don't like it. You're going to have to do something. I don't know what, but you can't let this go on, Rafe." She reached for his hands and, squeezing them softly, whispered, "You're in danger here, hermanito. Every day."
"Ya sé, Laura. I know. But what the hell can I do? Fuck all, that's what. And it's not just me, who’s suffering. Al
l the Gammas are. Torres is strutting around like a peacock and is set on marking his territory—I can't do a damn thing to stop it. I’m not a fighter. It’s not in me to hurt."
"No. It’s in you to heal. You're a damned good doctor, that's what you are. Never forget that."
"I wish dad felt that way." Getting approval from his sperm donor made getting blood out of a stone seem commonplace.
"Dad's a testosterone-laden jerk. Fuck what he says."
"Why do I feel like we've been having this conversation since we were kids?"
"Maybe because we have?" She shot him a weary smile.
"I can't believe I'm still in the same position as I was back at school," Rafe admitted with a sigh. "But, there's just no point in fighting them. Today, especially. I mean what the fuck am I going to do when a Beta and four of his cronies come after me? I'd be crazy to run and equally as crazy to fight. Either way, they’re going to hurt me."
"But you have to defend yourself, at least."
"No amount of training is going to do a damned thing."
With a faint grin, Laura lifted her hand and squeezed his bicep. "I thought you'd been working out. When I asked, you said you hadn't."
Rafe snorted. "Yeah. Like I'm going to admit that I go to a human gym and train. As it is, I have to cover my face with a hoodie. If dad ever found out, I’d never hear the end of it."
"There's no shame in it, Rafe."
"No shame, my ass,” he said drily. “But I had to do something, didn't I? Like you said, I couldn't just sit back and let them come at me. But when I'm outnumbered like today, there isn't a cat in hell's chance of me winning. I don't want to fight. I hate that that’s the only answer."
"Well, tough. Fighting is the only option, but… maybe, you don't have to fight with your fists." She frowned as he scoffed at that. "Lykens don't always have to be physically violent to get anywhere nowadays. This is the twenty-first century, Rafe. I mean, Gods, we're not back in the Dark Ages."
"And what do you suggest I do?" Rafe asked, cocking a brow in her direction. "Petition the TriAlphas for the protection of all Gammas?" He snorted at the thought. "Can you imagine?"
Trinity (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 1) Page 1
