Mikkel scowled. “We barely know each other!”
Rafe snorted. “Ever used Tinder?” When Mikkel tugged at his collar again, Rafe just chuckled. “Yeah, that’s a bullshit answer if ever I heard one. You can’t put this off. Either of you.”
“It’s been two days,” she whispered, but the words weren’t really a salve for her.
“So? We’d known each other two hours.”
The truth was, Thalia was fighting the bond. Why? For Mikkel’s sake.
Just looking at him was painful. It was like really bad menstrual cramps but in a good way.
Which, she knew, made no sense. But then, her body never really had made sense.
How could something painful be pleasurable?
She guessed it was like he was teasing her, without even trying. Making her pussy clench with phantom thoughts of his cock. Making her breasts ripen and firm, the nipples turn into peaks at the idea of his mouth around them, his fingers teasing and taunting.
She studied his hands, long and lean, spatulate tips that would strum her body like the finest musical instrument…
A shaky sigh escaped her, and Rafe let out a breath at the sound. “Your need is in the air, Thalia. And it’s not a need I can resolve. You have a duty to her, Mikkel.”
Her other mate winced. “Shut up.”
“It’s the truth. She’s in pain. Can’t you see?”
“She isn’t in pain. How can she be in pain?” Mikkel argued, his gaze glued to her all of a sudden, which made her cheeks turn bright pink as a result.
Rafe’s hand, just as sleek and elegant, long and thin and so damn clever, just the knowledge of what he could do with them made her shiver, came to rest on her knee. He exerted a little amount of pressure on the joint, and she realized she’d been jiggling her foot. “Haven’t you noticed? She’s fidgeting like crazy?”
The instant he said it, Thalia tried to freeze. Tried to stop moving around, but it was impossible. She felt like fire ants were roaming over her body. Prickles of pain were left in their wake, and it only dispersed when she jiggled her foot or tapped her hands or generally kept her limbs busy.
“Maybe that’s just how she is,” Mikkel argued, like she wasn’t there. Like she wasn’t even in the damn cabin.
“No. She’s not. She’s very restful. Don’t forget, she’s a predator, Mikkel,” Rafe said earnestly, but his statement had her grunting—they were totally talking around her, but Thalia had to admit she appreciated the way Rafe was fighting on her behalf. “Predators don’t jiggle around, do they? Would you if you were under fire? No, you go still. You wait. Does she look like she could wait for a cup of coffee, never mind for you to come to terms with the fact you’re her mate?”
He grunted, picked up his phone. “This isn’t the time to talk about this.”
“No? When will be?” she asked softly, speaking directly to him for the first time.
Her words, for whatever reason, had his gaze flickering from the screen on his phone to her. They shared that look for endless seconds, then he cleared his throat. “I need to report to your grandfather.”
She blinked, utterly taken aback by his statement. “What? That’s what’s stopping you?”
“No. Processing all this is what’s stopping me,” he snapped. “Look, you’re Lykens. You always knew this shit was going to happen to you. I’m human. Just because I grew up in the Lyken world, knowing this crazy crap about mating, doesn’t mean I expected it. I didn’t. You guys did.”
“I never expected I’d have to share my mate. I never even knew if I’d be fortunate enough to find her. Just because we’re gifted one at birth, doesn’t mean we’re guaranteed to find them,” Rafe inserted gently.
Mikkel’s nostrils flared. “I know that. I’m just saying… you’re born with the notion that mating is a possibility. We’re not. I just need time. That’s all.”
“Don’t you feel it?” she asked, her voice whisper soft. She wanted to duck her gaze, study the grains of the wooden table separating them, but she forced herself to keep hers glued to his.
“Feel what?” he retorted, his tone rather callous.
“The bond.” Her eyes shuttered of their own volition. As she communed with her She-Wolf, she saw the links spreading from her to the pair of them. They weren’t visible, not really. They reminded her of when the day was hot and just above the tarmac, heat, though invisible, suddenly could be captured by the eye… That was how this was.
It was a shaky, quivery, bumpy line of energy. And those links were getting stronger.
Rafe’s and hers pulsed with energy. It was like their heartbeat was in tune or something. Maybe it was, she didn’t know. The link with Mikkel was still tenuous, but it was growing stronger the longer she was around him.
“No,” he said on an exhale. “I don’t feel it. Not like you two do.”
“Liar,” Rafe rejoindered, and for the first time, he sounded mad.
Her eyes widened as a result and her hand came out to clasp his. “It’s okay, Rafe.”
“No, it’s not. He’s being a dick. There’s no need for him to deny this. He can feel it. There’s no way he can’t. He’s being fucking stubborn, and in the process, he’s hurting you.”
Mikkel let out a sound that was so close to a snarl, both she and Rafe jolted in surprise at the noise coming from a human. “You’d think you’d appreciate my not touching her. She’s your fucking mate, Rafe. Why do you want my hands on her?”
“I don’t want them on her. I need them on her because that’s what she needs. It’s what she was born for, dammit. Don’t you see?”
“No. I don’t see. This is all so fucking crazy. It makes no sense.”
“When did life ever have to make sense? You’re living with one foot in and one foot out of a society that very few humans know even exists. You know the crazy is real, so why is this so hard for you to accept?”
Her throat was clogged with emotion as she whispered, “Because he doesn’t want to accept what our relationship will do to his life.”
“What? Make it better?” Rafe snickered. “Then he’s a fool.”
“No.” She jerked her chin up. “He’s a soldier. He doesn’t want to be a useless puppet. He wants to help people, he wants to do his duty… to his people not ours.”
Mikkel narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
She cocked a brow. “I’m not. I can just read you. I know what you are, Mikkel. You’re a soldier, through and through. But that’s okay. I need you to be exactly that. You think this path I’ve taken is going to be easy?”
“No. But you’re the Triskele. You’re the one who’s going to be fighting, dammit. While Rafe and I, and whichever sap the Mother or the Gods or whoever the fuck gives out mates, stands by on the side-lines.” He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t sign up for that. I didn’t sign up to watch my woman have the shit kicked out of her… even if she’ll always come out on top.”
Though she stilled at his rage, she felt a flush of pleasure at his acknowledgement that she would always win.
He knew how strong she was. Recognized it in her because it was in him.
That was why they were perfect for each other.
Why the hell couldn’t he see that, dammit?
And then, the speaker made a creaking sound and the pilot declared, “Your Highness, we’re due to arrive in less than thirty minutes. If you’d like to make yourself comfortable for landing?”
The words had her blinking because it prompted her to remember something… It had been two days since she’d last been on this plane. Two days. Forty-eight hours. That meant it had been that amount of time since she’d first met Mikkel.
The thought had a breath shuddering from her lungs.
Caelus, she was pressuring him.
And the pressure… just thinking about it made her want to hurl.
Her voice was tight with remorse as she whispered, “Mikkel, I’m so sorry.”
Taken aback, his head jerked upright, his focus
sliding off his cell phone once more. “Huh? What for?”
“I’m rushing you.” She caught Rafe’s hand. “We’re rushing you.”
He scowled. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes,” she countered. “We are.” Another breath escaped her. “That was never my intention.”
Mikkel’s scowl deepened. “For God’s sake, Thalia, you’re not pressuring me. I just like to settle into things before I dive headfirst.”
“You literally described someone who likes not being pressured,” Rafe pointed out drily, and then he laughed when Mikkel flipped him the bird.
The ease between them settled her in a way Mikkel’s words hadn’t. A relationship was forming between them all. Whether Mikkel wanted to contemplate the mate bond or not, they were growing closer.
Two days ago, there had been stilted conversation between them as they sat on board. Thalia, half-raging at her grandfather’s nerve as well as dealing with the fact she’d met her second mate, Rafe just processing the fact he was no longer Thalia’s sole partner. And Mikkel? Well, he’d been shell-shocked too.
Small wonder.
Running a hand over her hair and feeling the neat plait which was still in place, she let the two men joke and jibe each other as the plane started banking and preparing for landing.
The flight had taken barely any time at all, but maybe that was because of the comfort of being on board. They had their own stewardess, had been served a perfectly delightful dinner, and the comfort of private travel was impossible to beat, at least, that was what Rafe had assured her. And she had no doubt that for the last few years, he’d only traveled First Class, not coach.
If he thought this was better than First? Well, she knew they were being spoiled.
Still, it was her, their, right, wasn’t it? They were royalty, after all. And now, she had a purpose. A reason to justify the expense of a private jet. A reason to make her people proud, to have them love her, because she would bring justice to them. Protect them when those higher than them fell short and failed them.
“You’re such an asslicker,” Mikkel retorted, jolting Thalia from her thoughts.
Rafe laughed. “Hardly. If anything, you are. I saw you sweet mouthing my mother for more empanadas.”
“They were good shit,” Mikkel replied, totally unrepentant and making Thalia laugh at his lack of guile. “What?” he demanded, shoulders hunching. “You can’t tell me they weren’t beyond compare?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never had them before this visit.”
Both men sighed. “Your parents have a lot to answer for,” Rafe said tiredly.
“Not really. I ate well. Just none of the fun stuff.”
“I already told her we’ve got to get her on a junk food diet.”
“Let’s not kill her, Mikkel.”
“Death by chocolate, is there a better way to go?” He thought about it. “Maybe by ice cream.”
She shook her head. “If you eat all that crap, I’d like to know where you put it.”
He cocked his arm and tensed his bicep. “I burn it off, baby.”
“How? I haven’t seen you work out. Well, I’ve seen you jog.” Seen wasn’t exactly the right word, she thought, flushing. She’d taken advantage of his absence to screw Rafe’s brain out…
“Course not,” he told her conversationally. “I do it at four in the morning.”
She blinked at him. “You’re awake at four AM?”
He nodded. “Standard.”
“Fuck standard.” Thalia groaned. “Oh Caelus, I think I’d die if I had to wake up at that time. Screw death by chocolate, more like death by alarm clock.”
His snort said it all. “Don’t be precious.” That wasn’t his idea of a compliment, either.
“Four AM is very early,” Rafe countered, reaching for his coffee cup and taking a sip of the last few dregs.
“Like you don’t have to wake up at that time ever. Don’t you have shifts? What about emergency surgeries?”
“I guess. But nothing regular.” Rafe huffed out a laugh. “Like Thalia, I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with such a regular timetable.”
Mikkel rolled his eyes. “Big babies.”
“Hardly!” Thalia retorted. “It’s not like I’m in bed until twelve.”
“No, just nine. That’s late.”
She blew out a raspberry. “Look, Action Man…”
Mikkel snorted out a laugh, but before he could interrupt the pilot declared, “Prepare for landing, cabin crew.”
Realizing a half hour had passed, her mouth fell shut. Mikkel blinked too. “Huh, seems like two minutes since he was saying we were approaching Florida.”
“Probably because it felt that way.” Rafe shot them both a look. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how fast time flows now.”
She tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?
“I mean, time is moving faster because we’re content.”
Mikkel grunted. “Bullshit. Time can’t move faster. It’s time. It does whatever it wants… namely, passes second by second.”
“You know what I mean,” Rafe answered calmly, delicately placing the porcelain cup back on the saucer with such care that it barely made a noise. “Our contentment at being close brings us nearer.”
Mikkel heaved out a deep sigh. “I’m playing my game. Tell me when he’s stopped spouting bullshit.”
Thalia couldn’t help herself: she laughed. Rafe turned to her with a gimlet eye, but she just pressed her hand to her mouth to quell the laughter… When Rafe pulled a face, she reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers.
Bullshit or not, Rafe was right about one thing. They were getting closer, and she couldn’t be anything other than grateful for that fact.
** **
Rafe
Rafe eyed the palace before him in awe.
He’d seen the TriAlpha palace and had been equally awe-struck by its grand features, its opulent majesty. But this was a palace of a different variety.
This one was modern and sleek. Elegant in a way that reminded him of the Guggenheim museum in Bilbao.
It was epic and awe-inspiring.
Thalia, who stood at his side, tilted her head as she took in the same building as he did. Only, she wasn’t as impressed. He could tell. Her nose was wrinkled and her brow crumpled.
“What is it?”
He laughed. “It’s beautiful. Don’t you think?”
“No. It reminds me of my mother’s taste in art. I thought my grandparents had more class.”
Rafe chuckled. “I can see why you’d think that.” When the TriAlpha’s mate had invited him into her office, that very morning he’d met Thalia for the first time, he’d been a bit bewildered by the ornaments housed within.
Rafe loved modern architecture, was a fan of minimalism and enjoyed the sleek elegance that came as part of that style ethic. But whatever esthetic lines Thalia’s mother appreciated was a whole other ball of wax.
“You do? Don’t tell me you like it?”
“It’s like a breath of fresh air,” he said softly, meaning it too.
The front wall was just made of glass. Reflective glass. Foot after foot of it. Curved in a way that made him think of water.
By comparison to the four story building, they, along with their limo, were merely tiny dots in its mirror image. Every ten feet or so, there was a kind of chrome shape. It reminded him of a doorknob, one that stuck out and was obviously a part of the building’s structural supports. In the hot Florida sun, it was bright and clean and so basic, that it was a marvel to behold.
“It’s a bit plain, isn’t it?” Mikkel asked, coming up beside them and leaning back against the limo. As he did, he immediately jerked upright. “Shit, that’s hot,” he complained.
Thalia snorted. “What did you think? It would be freezing? It’s high summer, doofus.”
Mikkel squinted at her. “Don’t be getting too big for your boots just because you can take a nasty Beta down.”
&n
bsp; She snickered. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Should hope not,” he retorted, once again making Rafe wonder why the man was fighting what was flourishing between him and Thalia.
The mate bond was obviously there. Mikkel didn’t appear to be the sort of man who was comfortable with anyone until he’d known them for a long while.
Two days was hardly that, and yet, he was making jokes and felt at ease around them.
“I love it,” he breathed, staring up once more at the mirror-sheen.
“You’ve good taste, son.” The voice was surprisingly youthful as Rafe turned his head and saw one of the old TriAlphas.
He blinked. “Sir.” Bowing his head, he fell to his knees as was only proper. When a tut reached his ear, he felt his mate crouch by him, then tug him up into standing once more.
“He’s family now. You don’t have to do that,” she grumbled. When he shot her a look, she harrumphed, but he stayed standing—for her. He wanted nothing more than to stay where he’d been.
“Maybe I want acolytes for grandsons-in-law,” the older man pouted, and as he looked like his brothers, there was no way Rafe could tell which of the TriAlpha this man was.
“Well, it’s tough, because you aren’t getting one, grandfather,” Thalia retorted, then, she let out a whoop, and launched herself at the man.
Both of them laughed as he caught her then spun her in a circle.
Though the urge to bow once more was an urge that almost had him caving in, the sound of her joy stopped him. She looked so young and carefree at that moment that he was stunned and happy to see her so boisterously pleased with herself.
“Gods, it’s good to see you,” her grandfather whispered, his arms tightening about Thalia until she croaked out:
“Can’t. Breathe.”
He let go with a pout. “Spoilsport.”
She winked, then hit him back with a hug that had her grandfather choking too. “Gotcha,” she yelled, making the old man laugh harder.
“You always were a sneak.”
“And who taught me that was the best way to be?” she demanded.
He winked. “Me.” He turned to Rafe and Mikkel who’d stayed by the limo while Thalia greeted her grandfather. “Mikkel, it’s good to see you.”
Triskele (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 2) Page 14
