Trinity (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 1)

by Serena Akeroyd

  At yet another hopeful question, Thalia bit her lip and shook her head. "I'm Thalia Lyndhoven."

  He blinked, the shirt dropped from his fingers and fell unheeded to the floor. Before she could say anything, he turned his back on her and sat heavily on the bed.

  "My... I... no, something's wrong. This doesn't make sense," he whispered, his fingers coming up to start combing through the hair at his temple. It looked like silk, and her own fingers curled in on themselves as she fought the urge to touch the locks.

  He was dark, obviously Hispanic. In contrast to her light coloring, he was swarthy, but sweet Gods, he was beautiful. So beautiful. And he was hers. All hers.

  She bit her lip as she stepped away from the door and rounded the bed to go to him. She knelt before him, inwardly realizing she'd do this for no one else save an Elder, and placed a hand on his knee. His flinch hurt something inside her, the physical rejection had her She-Wolf snarling in response.

  She tried to contain the bitch, knowing that she'd only cause more trouble if she let her loose. It was only natural that he was disturbed, she told herself. Not only was he a Gamma, she was one of the highest ranking females in the world. On top of that, she'd hijacked a ride from him, in her wolf skin, then the instant she made it to his room, shifted.

  Could she have fucked this up any more than she already had?

  She nibbled her lip a little harder, recognizing the major clusterfuck she'd caused, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Rafe."

  "For what? Stalking me to my room?" he asked, eyes on the floor. "Or because you're disappointed in the Fates' choice of mate for you?"

  While those words were bitter, they gave her hope. His dejectedness was stemmed from a surety that she would be ashamed of him, of his rank. He knew what they were to one another though. That was all that counted.

  She felt like laughing, giddiness sailing through her that his rejection wasn’t about her but her position, and she let her hand drift from his knee and up to his jaw. She cupped the stubbled flesh and tilted his head upward, making sure their gazes clashed.

  "I've been waiting for you my entire life," she whispered, the words unintentionally emotional for they were clogged with the tears she was barely holding back. Her declaration was all the more powerful for it and his eyes widened in response. "Every day, I've prayed to the Mother for you. I've died inside a little each day. Now you're here, my life can start."

  Confusion flittered across his features—she wondered if he knew how expressive his face was—and he tugged at his ear. "This doesn't make sense. Surely there's a mistake."

  She scowled at him, at his refusal to hear her words and accept them as the truth. "There's no mistake. You've no idea how hard it was to stop my She-Wolf from howling with happiness throughout that ride."

  His lips twitched, and he shot her a quick look from the corner of his eye. "You mean aside from the times her muzzle wasn't shoved under my armpit?"

  She flushed. "I'm sorry about that."

  He shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

  "I guess I should explain myself, right?" No matter what she'd imagined about the day she finally met her mate, she hadn't expected so much... chatter.

  She'd expected that finally, she'd be rid of her goddamn virginity.

  She couldn't wait to have sex for the first time.

  A shudder had her flushing a little more, and she swallowed nervously when he murmured, "I'd like to understand what the hell's going on here that’s for sure."

  "I was leaving a meeting with my fathers..." Noticing the sudden blanching of his face, she made a mental note not to mention them until he was used to the idea of her being the TriAlpha's daughter. "...and I scented you."

  "You had a meeting with your fathers in your wolf skin?"

  She winced. "I was angry, so I shifted. I followed the trail of your scent and found the Gamma females. They were crying and looked so dejected that I couldn't just leave them." She nibbled her lip again. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble, I just thought to jerk them out of their misery, and I did. They were nervous at first, but then they relaxed and started smiling and chatting. Then you came. My mind just... I couldn't let you leave, but I couldn't shift because they were so certain I was a natural wolf. It would have frightened them."

  "You can't be happy with this selection, your highness."

  At the wooden statement, she frowned. "Hey, less of the ‘your highness’ crap. I'm Thalia. And I couldn't be happier. You've no idea how long I've waited for you; you can't understand what it means to me to finally have you here, within reach."

  Her fingers curled into his jaw, and gently, she spread them, letting them trail over his lips.

  "This isn't right," he whispered. "I'm so far below you, you'd be ridiculed."

  "Rafe, I pretended to be a feral wolf to please those women you're helping—Gamma females.” The words weren’t particularly kind, but it was the truth. Gods, not even an Omega would lower themselves to please a Gamma or to make them feel better. “I'm not your average princess. I don't give a damn about convention."

  "Well, I do!" he yelled, and jumped up from the bed, making her hand slide away, breaking contact with him. He brushed past her, nudging her as he strode back and forth in front of the bed. "There has to be a mistake. It's the Centennial festival soon; there’ll be a lot of Elders around. We can ask them for advice. We might be able to break the bond somehow."

  "No!" she cried, tumbling from the mattress, her body losing all power over her limbs in the face of his rejection. "I don't want to!"

  Gods, how could he do this, say this? A mate was a precious thing. Some Lykens never found theirs, and settled for a partnership like the humans had.

  "How can you say that?" she whispered hoarsely, staring up at him from her position on the floor. "Don't you want me?" she asked, feeling pathetic and young, so, so young in the face of his evident maturity. She had to know though. Had to understand. "I-I know I'm too skinny, but I can eat more. And I can be snarky, but I’ll try to temper it." Her chin wobbled. "Please, don't do this."

  Where the Elder's life-changing revelation had shook her to the brink of tears, Rafe's words pushed her over an edge she hadn’t realized was close by. Tears burned a scorching path along her lashes before they ultimately dropped down over her cheeks, curling over, rolling down and splashing her knees.

  Rafe stared at her, at her tears, and he let out a groan. In two steps, he was in front of her. Another second, and he was kneeling so close, their legs touched. He reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb starting to wipe away the tears he'd caused. "Don't cry, Thalia. Please, don't. I'm doing this for you."

  "But I don't want you to," she bit out. "I don't. Can't you feel the bond?" Her eyelids fluttered shut. "It's like being filled with warmth. I was so cold before, but now you're there. Don't you feel the same way? I know you haven't had the same amount of time to get used to the idea... I know you thought I was feral at first, but I know something happened. I know you felt something. You looked at me oddly a few times."

  He shook his head even as his eyes were glued to his thumb which was still stroking the path of a stray tear on her cheek. "Of course, I can feel it. In your wolf skin, I thought there was something wrong with me, because I knew you were different. I just thought my senses were playing tricks on me. But when you shifted, it locked into place."

  His words resonated deeply with her. That was exactly how it felt. A door to her soul had been open for so long, and he'd just locked it shut. Locked himself inside.

  What had the Elder called her?

  A key.

  Gods, she couldn’t think about that now though.

  "How can you even think to break this? We've been blessed!" she gritted out.

  "Oh, Thalia. Gods, I'm a Gamma," he cried. "I'm totally unsuitable as your mate. In fact, there couldn't be a worse choice. How am I supposed to help you? I'm useless. The only thing I'm good for is healing! But that's no good for you. You need someone adept with politics, goo
d at schmoozing. I'm the worst choice in the world for someone like you, someone in your position."

  "The Mother didn't think so," she snapped, scrubbing at the tears that still fell with a clenched fist. "And do you think I give a damn about whether or not you can asslick? Fuck, I can't. I'm a terrible princess! I'm always in trouble, I never do or say the right thing to the council; I spend half my time on their hit list! Hell, my parents rue the day I was born."

  "They'll rue it a little more when you take me home to meet them."

  His comment had her lips twitching, the smile spread and she grinned at him. After a few silent moments of staring at one another, a mutual amusement passing between the two of them, she said, "At least you're contemplating the idea of my taking you home."

  He sighed, the sound grave, but his gaze had moved to her mouth now. He was studying her lips like the cure for cancer was written on her Cupid’s bow. "I still don't think I'm right for you."

  "The Mother thinks so," was all she said, though it was hesitant. The way he was looking at her stirred her She-Wolf. Riling the beast up in a way that made her heart skip several beats. "There is something you should know, Rafe. I-I... well, I have more than just one mate." She didn’t even question whether this was the time to tell him or not—she had to lay it all down on the line.

  There was no better time than now, at this moment when he was inches away from rejecting her anyway.

  Another sigh escaped him, and from the look on his face, the sudden lightness about him, she could tell he was relieved. Another reason why she’d felt no fear at imparting the news—she’d known he’d feel that way, and she wasn’t sure whether to be pissed at that or not.

  He didn’t think he was good enough for her; but sweet Gods, she didn’t think she was good enough for him. With all the shit she was bringing to the table? Fuck no. She sure as hell wasn’t a catch.

  "Well, I probably should be pissed off, but I'm not. I can cope if the entire political world of the US pack doesn't rest solely on my shoulders." He spoke the words, then grimaced. "How many?" This, finally, was a little disgruntled; a part of him relieved, the other part disliking the idea of sharing his mate.

  Thank the Gods! That had to mean the mate bond was working, surely?

  "Two more."

  "I guess that makes sense. After all, you're the TriAlpha's daughter.” He blew out a long, long breath. “Okay. I can deal with that.” He swallowed, and it looked hard. Like his mouth was dry or as though his body was just refusing, outright, to behave itself. “If you can cope with my being Gamma."

  She reached out to slide her fingers through his hair. "I couldn't give a shit," she told him earnestly, if not romantically.

  The corner of his mouth kicked up in a half-smile. He reached for her other hand and speared his fingers through hers. Then, with his gaze locked on the bridge he’d made, the connection firm and resolute, he whispered, "Where do we go from here? Back to the palace?"

  Ordinarily, she'd have said no. She'd spent so much damn time in the palace that she wouldn't care if she didn't see it again for a decade. As it was, her nose crinkled as she looked around the room.

  It was shabby. Dated. But, she had to admit, it was relatively clean.

  He tapped her crinkled nose. "It is the Centennial festival, Thalia. We were lucky to get these rooms."

  "I guess."

  "Do you want to go back to the palace?"

  She nodded, then, froze. Hesitation washed through her as she whispered, "When I thought about meeting you, I didn't think it would be like this."

  He leaned forward and brushed his lips over the upper curve of her cheekbone; so close to her, her lashes whispered over his chin. She shuddered at the sensation of his soft lips touching her. Gods, she couldn't wait for him to be touching more intimate places.

  "I didn’t imagine it would be like..." He pulled a face. “Like this, either.”

  She smiled, suddenly feeling at ease with him. Like she’d known him a lifetime, and not just half an afternoon. "I thought the minute I saw you, I'd want to rip your clothes off."

  "You mean you don't?" he asked, feigning disappointment with a pout that suited him. His lips were soft, a fuller bottom lip and a thinner upper with a narrowed Cupid’s bow that made him look resolute. Serious, somehow.

  "Why do you think I stopped you from stripping off completely?" Thalia rubbed her fingertips over his mouth as she laughed. "I just never thought we'd be doing so much talking."

  He grimaced. "That's my fault."

  "Yes, it is," she told him, honest to the last.

  "You're going to be great for my ego, aren't you?"

  Laughter pealed from her at his irreverent comment. When he'd first started calling her ‘your highness’, she'd been frightened he'd be totally cowed. But somehow, she'd managed to take his fear away, and now, he could tease her.

  "I'm going to be great for your ego."

  He looked at her a second, then groaned. "I just realized. I'm old enough to be your sugar daddy."

  She chuckled. "How old are you?"

  "Fifty-eight."

  Her brows rose. "You're pretty young to have found your mate. My fathers were over a hundred."

  "Gods, they'd understand why I feel like a pervert, then."

  "Age is relative with Lykens, you know that." She shuffled closer to him, needing to be as near as she could.

  He snorted even as he squeezed her fingers. "You can say that because you're the younger of us. How old are you? Go on, hit me with it."

  At his defeated, grumbling tone, her words were imbued with her amusement. "Twenty-six."

  A groan was her answer. A second later, he sucked in a breath, and whispered, "The Mother was smiling on me the day she paired me with you."

  His unexpected turn into seriousness had her feeling shy—ironic considering she’d been naked all this time, and hadn’t felt an ounce of discomfort. She ducked her head as her cheeks heated with a blush. He tapped her chin with his thumb before letting his hand roll down the curve of her jaw, along the lines of her throat and toward her chest. As a single digit slid over the pout of her breast, she shuddered and leaned into him when his finger reached her nipple. It immediately puckered at his touch.

  Swallowing, she reached for him. Let her hand curl down his chest, gently touching his flesh, and with each caress, her palm burned with his heat. The heat of her mate.

  The idea was thrilling. She was thrilled. Touching him was so much more than she'd ever hoped for. Everything inside her trembled into alignment as her body approached a moment that it had been waiting for since the day she was born: the touch of her mate.

  He was a handsome one, too. Perhaps her judgment was biased. But she didn't think so. His hair was like burnt chocolate, thick and crisp, and she knew it would both tickle and caress her palm were she to run her fingers through it. His forehead was wide, lines crinkled where he frowned. It led to wide-set, espresso-colored eyes and a strong Roman nose. His jaw was neither weak nor hard as stone. But there was a jut to it, and she could tell he'd be obstinate if a situation arose where he felt strongly—an unusual trait for a Gamma.

  From his bared chest, she could tell he looked after himself. His chest was split in two; strong, muscular pecs topped by little cherries for nipples. He was stacked for a Gamma. Ordinarily, they were smaller, their bodies not built for fighting.

  But Rafe was different. And in more ways than one if she recalled him saying he was a doctor... an occupation that was as far as the moon for most Gammas, who, on a genetic level, were not blessed with brains.

  She crawled forward, uncaring of her nudity, for she was used to being bare and it seemed natural to be that way in her mate's presence. She moved until she settled with a leg either side of his thighs.

  Straddling him meant she could breathe in the delicious scent he exuded. It was better than aftershave, better than soap. It was him. Nothing artificial, not a perfume. It was just him and she wanted to bathe in it. Roll around in it
like her She-Wolf would when she pounced into a mound of leaves. There were lingering traces of the Gamma females he’d hugged today, their tears were a heavy presence that stained the pure essence of him. But while the She-Wolf grumbled, the woman was touched—her mate was so much more than she could ever have expected.

  She quivered in reaction to his proximity and he felt it, couldn't not feel it as close as they were. She let her lips rest above his, hesitant to start something when she had no idea how to even kiss.

  He reached up and brushed his mouth against hers. His gentleness was appreciated, and she knew he sensed her nerves. Most Lykens did not go to their mates a virgin, but she was. Most Lykens were not tormented by images of their mates fucking other women on a regular basis. Even if she’d been able to sneak out to hook up, the idea of a male, a stranger who was not one of her mates, had been enough to make her She-Wolf snarl and her raging libido had curled up tighter than a cinnamon roll.

  Not that she’d wanted to hook up, even if her body had craved sex. She wanted her men. Now, she had one of them. And if she didn't find the others for decades, then she'd cope and revel in the time she had with Rafe.

  He was right when he said he wasn't a suitable mate for a TriAlpha princess—even if what was suitable was a great unknown. She didn't care that he wasn't, the Mother's approval was all she needed. But she knew, that down the line, her other mates would fill in that deficiency, and where they lacked, Rafe would do the same for them. They would become a team, bound and irreversibly linked through her.

  That being said, she knew that it had been ordained that she meet Rafe first. The two of them would settle into their roles as mates, take comfort in each other and build a strong foundation that would allow them to welcome the other males.

  And she knew, knew that this wasn't just about her.

  She'd have to share her mates, too.

  Her She-Wolf didn't appreciate that. She wanted to be at the center of her mates' attention. But the woman shuddered at the prospect of Rafe kissing one of her mates. Of touching him, caressing him as he caressed her. Of them all being so intrinsically bound that nothing could tear them asunder.