Triskele (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 2)
Page 10
She shook him once, then released him. He staggered back. “Get out of here.” Kinnock’s eyes were wide as he continued staggering away, like he was a human and he’d downed a pint of vodka. He clutched at his throat, his small moans inciting the She-Wolf even further. It was with relief he scampered away, and at the sight of the paws, Haraldsson too ran off.
Stevenson, to his credit, had stayed put. Her gaze, however, was cold as she declared in a low tone, “It’s no longer your office, it’s not your Packhouse anymore. Get out.”
Stevenson swallowed but headed out of the study, leaving only Mikkel, Rafe, and Jacobs behind.
She blew out a breath, and in her mind, Rafe murmured, You’re maintaining those half-shifts longer each time. You told me that first day you could only hold them for short bursts.
I know. She wasn’t worried, but she too had noticed that where before she could maintain it for a minute at most, she could extend it now for maybe two, perhaps even three minutes.
Why, she wasn’t sure. But Thalia had a feeling it was because with Rafe as her keystone, the She-Wolf was grounded in a way she’d never been before. That enabled her to develop her gifts, to focus on anything other than her self-control.
She wondered what would happen when Mikkel was bound to her too.
But that was a thought process for another time.
Jacobs coughed, drawing her attention to him. She blinked. “You wanted to say something?”
He licked his lips, peered over his shoulder at her mates, and asked, “Why me?”
“Because you weren’t pissing yourself with fear. You were calm, rational, and you had the good sense not to slate the lesser ranks.” She tilted her head to the side. “How do you feel about Gammas?”
“My sister is a Gamma.”
That had her wincing. “In an Alpha household?”
“Yeah.” Jacobs ran a hand over his jaw, and she heard the faint rasp that came from a stubble-strewn chin. “It wasn’t easy for her.”
“Did you protect her or make it worse?”
He sighed. “I didn’t do either.”
She pondered that a second. “Because it’s the way of it? Survival of the fittest?”
“I guess.” He seemed to think about it a second, his eyes going blank as he turned inward. “If she’d asked, I might have helped. I can’t say for sure though. I’m probably no better than any of the higher ranks that allowed Torres to get away with what he did.”
“No. You were always decent,” Rafe said, speaking out and stepping toward the desk. She held out her hand and he slipped his fingers into hers, turning her wrist so that he could get a better grip on her. His other came out to cup her shoulder. “You didn’t condone it, which most did.”
“I don’t condone violence, but…” Jacob tensed. “The truth is, my situation has been pretty precarious these past few years. Stevenson’s renowned for being a prick, and in a challenge, until recently, he was strong. Very strong.”
“He’s right,” Rafe confirmed. “The man’s still Alpha for a reason. He fell off his horse, didn’t he? Two months ago?”
“Yeah. The old fool always refused to believe that he couldn’t tame anything he rode.”
She snorted. “Old fool’s right. Wolves riding horses? Jesus.”
Jacobs pulled a face. “The man’s arrogance is renowned in the city. But, ever since the fall, he’s definitely been weaker. If he was challenged now, there’s no doubt he’d lose. It’s why he was shoring himself up with new Betas. Jason Torres was a nobody, but he was violent and he was handy with his fists, as well as stupid and easy to control.
“Stevenson was making Betas like him a part of the pack council to protect himself.”
“He could do that all he wanted, but it wouldn’t stop him from being challenged by one of the other Alphas in the pack,” she retorted.
“No, but a group of Betas, known for their violent temperaments, could always get to a disobedient Alpha first, couldn’t they? I’ve been concerned about it for a while, I’ve got pups to protect.”
Thalia’s eyes widened. “It seems I got here just in time.”
Jacobs ducked his head in agreement. “Alphas have been under threat of expulsion from Stevenson for a long time, not just recently.
“I never rocked the boat. My Wolf wasn’t happy about taking the old bastard’s dictates but my family farm has been Jacobs’ land for generations. My mate is from the area, and her parents are ill. Moving wasn’t an option for me.”
“So, you had to be Stevenson’s bitch?” She was purposely rude, cutting. Wanting to see what the other man’s reaction would be.
He sucked in a breath. “You’re fortunate you’re the Triskele.”
“Why?” she asked with a smile. “Hurt your feelings? Imagine how Rafe felt? That beating you’ve been trying to avoid? He’s had that every day, or every other day, for months, years. And your precious mate, whose parents are ill… how would you feel if she’d been raped by Torres?” When Jacobs stiffened, she looked at Rafe. “Do you know his sister?”
Her mate winced. “Yes.”
Jacobs stilled, and reading something in Rafe’s body language, he bit off, “No.”
Rafe’s look was filled with pity. “Jessie was one of the females Torres raped.”
Thalia lifted her free hand to squeeze the one Rafe had left on her shoulder. After she squeezed, she pulled forward, dislodging his gentle hold, and rested her elbows on the desk.
“How do you feel now, Jacobs? Wish you’d stepped in? She’d been raped and couldn’t come to you about it— that help you’d have offered if she’d asked you for it… not much use if she daren’t come to you at all.”
The man was pale, the pain in his eyes made itself known on other features—the skin on his brow was pinched, the bridge of his nose crumpled. “I didn’t know.”
“No, but that’s my point. Why should I let the Summerford Pack be in your hands if your own sister won’t come to you?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Ignorance doesn’t excuse incompetence or indifference,” Mikkel remarked, stepping away from the door. He moved behind Jacobs, making the other man stiffen, but he came to Thalia’s other side. Bracketing her like Rafe did, empowering her She-Wolf with the knowledge her mates had her back.
“You’re right,” Jacobs said softly. “I probably don’t deserve to be Alpha if I can’t even govern my own family.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t learn,” Rafe replied, his tone just as quiet. “Maybe he was indifferent, Mikkel, but that doesn’t mean he can’t change.”
“Men rarely change,” her second mate argued.
“I agree,” Thalia murmured. “Old dogs can learn new tricks but only if they’re under threat.” Her words had Jacobs swallowing.
“He will be under threat though, won’t he? We’ve never had a Triskele before, watching over our packs, monitoring the status quo.”
Jacobs’s Adam’s apple bobbed at Rafe’s cool tone. “He’s not wrong, Triskele.”
Thalia rocked back in her seat. Though Mikkel hadn’t pressed his hand to her shoulder, she rejoiced in his presence as she pondered Jacobs and the sincerity he oozed.
The only thing on his side was the fact her She-Wolf wasn’t angered by him. But, over the years, she’d come to learn how big of a deal that was.
Her She-Wolf was very good at reading people, especially men. Jacobs, for all his indifference had led to his making very poor decisions, seemed to be as Rafe had said: decent. That was the beast’s perception. For herself, she thought about Jessie, about how a sister couldn’t go to her own brother to tell him she’d been raped…
With humans, that might have made sense. But for Lykens? No. Not when the brother was high ranking. He should have challenged the bastard for Jessie’s honor, but Jessie obviously hadn’t thought Jacobs would fight on her behalf.
That didn’t bode well in her mind.
She tapped her fingers on the armrest, contemplating th
e best move. “I think we should stay in contact after the challenge,” she said slowly. “You will take out Stevenson. If he decides to play dirty, you may kill him, but otherwise, I want him to live and I want you to look merciful.
“We can’t change Summerford’s perceptions if we don’t lead by example. It was unfortunate that I had to put that bastard down, I wanted to show mercy, and to some, my actions will make the idiot a martyr, but that can’t be helped.” She sighed, suddenly feeling tired and the path that Rafe took to communicate with her was burning.
The sensation was bizarre.
It was like a part of her brain was too hot, over hot, even. Like the synapses were frazzled, but if that were possible, then she’d be on the ground with a stroke… not sitting here, deciding the fate of men she’d known for less than two days.
“Once you reign, I want you to keep in touch with us. Rafe’s family are here and they will pass information on to me, I’m sure, but I want truthful reports. Do you understand?”
Jacobs licked his lips. “I do, Triskele.”
“I assumed from your being here today that you want to be Alpha. Is that the case?”
He sighed. “I’m more interested in my farm, Triskele. My father insisted I come.”
“Trust me to offer the job to the one man who doesn’t really want it,” she muttered under her breath, making Rafe and Mikkel chuckle a little. Even Jacobs’ mouth curved a touch.
“I won’t turn it down,” was all he said. “I’ve been having some problems with pests, and today, Kinnock sent me a message saying Dafydd had challenged Haraldsson, and that I needed to get my ass down here. So, I did, but by the time I made it, Dafydd was gone and Haraldsson was working up to challenging me.”
Thalia blinked. “Stevenson sanctioned the challenge? And Dafydd is dead?”
“Yes.” Though that news irritated her, she just hummed under her breath. “His death wasn’t against Pack law,” he assured her, seeming to sense her agitation.
That didn’t make his death any less of a waste.
She rubbed her temple. “I’m sure.” Her sigh was bone-deep weary and she’d only been playing at this role for a handful of days. “You may leave, Jacobs,” she told him quietly. “Don’t disappoint me,” she slipped in as he got to his feet. “You’ll pay if you do.”
He swallowed, and the move seemed thick, hard. Nodding, he bowed his head. “Yes, Triskele. Thank you.”
He backed off, maintaining that respectful eye contact with her, and then rushed towards the door.
The minute it was closed behind him, she blew out a breath.
“You know how to mess with their minds,” Mikkel told her, sounding amused. “I thought Kinnock was going to piss himself when you grew those two paws.”
She pushed the chair back and got to her feet. Neither man moved and merely watched as she strode from one side of the study to the other.
“He shouldn’t have annoyed me,” was all she said as she burned off her excess energy.
“He shouldn’t have annoyed your She-Wolf,” Rafe corrected, and she cut him a look, nodding as she did.
“You were doing that talking thing, weren’t you?” Mikkel asked softly. “I noticed. They did too, but they didn’t know what was going on, of course. You need to get better at hiding it.”
“Get better at it?” Rafe snorted. “We’ve barely had any chance to get used to it, never mind improving upon it.”
Mikkel grunted. “Just saying how it is.”
Thalia hummed under her breath. “He’s not wrong, Rafe. Why can we talk this way? We haven’t talked about it. Not really.”
“I don’t know why we can. I’m just grateful it’s possible. Aren’t you?”
Unease wriggled through her as that burning pain in her skull made itself known. “Once we’re used to it, it will be a tool in our arsenal, but until then,” she tapered off, rubbing at her temple.
“Do you think Jacobs will be a good leader?” Mikkel surprised her, not only by changing the subject, but also because he didn’t ask her, he asked Rafe.
“I do actually. Of them all, I know my mother likes him the most.”
“Not you?”
“I avoid pack politics as much as I can,” Rafe told her softly. “I live in the human world. It was safer for me.”
The hiss that escaped from between her teeth had him sighing.
“You can’t kill everyone for the hand they played in my past,” he told her softly, his tone chiding.
“My She-Wolf disagrees.” She gritted her teeth as the pain in her head became excruciating. Then, as swiftly as it came, it disappeared when he rubbed her shoulder—comforting her when she should be comforting him. She swallowed back her irritation at failing him, then murmured, “We’re onto Florida tomorrow, right?”
“Yes,” Mikkel confirmed. “The pilot sent through the flight details while you were telling off the naughty boys.”
She grunted. “I’m glad you find this all so amusing.”
He smirked. “Not as glad as I am.”
7
Theodore
Theo liked trains.
They weren’t fast, and they were, in their own way, irritating with the noises and the smells and the cluster of humanity, but he hated planes. Though they could get a man faster to his destination, speed wasn’t always a good thing. He’d come to learn that over his many years.
Humans—they were always rushing. Always looking for someone, somewhere, somehow… So many questions with so few answers out there.
He’d never understand their small minds, their contentedness with such simple things. The questions they asked weren’t even important.
Why did the universe exist?
Did it matter?
They existed. Would they choose to stop existing if they found out the reason why they were there at all?
Where did they come from?
Was that really, truly relevant?
They were here. That was what counted.
If they asked the important questions, Theo knew they’d have advanced much further than they already had. Instead, they looked to the stars when many solutions were here, on this planet. In parallel realms that they should have been able to access… if they’d had the gumption and the brains to ask the right damn questions.
Theo jolted when he realized a small boy was gaping at him. He tilted his head to the side and smiled at the child. Now, children, they were the wise ones.
Of course, adult humans disagreed. Often disbelieving them. But they were the ones who truly saw. They were open to endless possibilities until life dragged it from them.
It was sad, but Theo always made sure he had time for children.
His smile, however, didn’t reassure the boy, because he immediately spun around and pressed his face into his mother’s arm. She gave him an absentminded pat on the head as she studied something more important on her cell phone. Theo eyed the small piece of technology, huffing at it.
Another idiot invention of an idiot race.
Rubbing his chin, he stared out onto the landscape rushing beside him. It had been a long way down to Florida, but he was there. Almost. He was in the Sunshine State at least. Far closer than he’d been before.
The invitation to stay with the Lyndhovens had been given many moons ago. Back when Woodrow Wilson was still President of the USA, and the rumblings of World War One had been stirring in the nation. Still, Lykens were usually hospitable.
Should he have called them? Asked them if he could stay?
But what would have been the point? What would he have said?
“Louis, your granddaughter is the key to an ancient Fae prophecy. Would you mind if I came and hobnobbed with her, figured out what to do with her, before I snatch her and take her to Fae court?”
Yes, he could easily imagine how well that would have gone down.
He huffed at the thought.
It wasn’t like he was going to take her to Fae court forever. Just for a short while, until
they figured out exactly how she would help his people. Exactly what her role in the prophecy was.
That was the trouble with prophecies though. They were never all that easy to reason out. How could they be when they’d been crafted thousands of years ago and by Gods who rarely mingled with human society, never mind Lykens!
Grumbling, he got to his feet. His back ached and his legs were tired from sitting still for too long—even pins and needles befell an ancient Fae from time to time. But then, he’d been aching all round since Brian’s death.
The truth was, Theo knew he’d never get over his lover’s passing, and yet, here he was, faced with a situation that was the total antithesis of that.
Thalia Lyndhoven was destined to help him, was fated to be his partner as they resolved the sticky situation the Fae found themselves in.
Which meant Brian had been a blip in Theo’s life. Intended for nothing more...
His throat felt thick at the thought. How could that be? How was it possible? He didn’t know, didn’t want to ask the questions, but unlike the humans, he knew the right ones, because they were the ones that hurt the most.
Sucking in a shuddery breath, he headed for the first class bar at the end of the carriage. “Scotch, please.”
The bartender nodded and poured him a finger as Theo took a seat. When Theo clucked his tongue, another finger appeared. Another two more clucks had the level where he wanted it.
Handing over two fifties, Theo said, “Thanks. Keep the change.”
“Thanks, sir!” the server, a kid of maybe twenty-two, gushed.
“Just keep it topped up,” he ordered, “and there’s more where that came from.”
He was always generous with money. Why wouldn’t he be when it came so easy to him? Money might as well have been paper. He could conjure it up like he could conjure his clothes. Like he could have conjured this train if he’d wanted.
When the world was one’s oyster, the pearl was hard to find.
Well, that is until he’d seen Thalia Lyndhoven on video the other day.
He feared he’d found his pearl, and the trouble was, he didn’t particularly want her.