Another part was scared. Frightened of the repercussions.
Her mouth quivered as his fingers stayed where they were, unmoving. Now he’d made the connection, something seemed to settle inside him. He appeared to breathe easier, deeper.
“You had wings.” Her tone was accusatory.
“That’s what I said,” Mikkel inserted, and his tone was dry.
She flashed him a look. “He does. I didn’t imagine that, did I?”
“No. You didn’t. I’m Fae. More than that, I’m Royal.”
“What does that mean?” She frowned. “Do only Royal Fae have wings?”
“The Royals are bred from the creatures you know as Archangels. That’s why it’s so fitting. Raphael, Mikkel, Gabriel.” His smile grew. “The Fates have an amusing way of dealing with their children.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’re named for the original Archangels. God’s original messengers,” Rafe murmured, then when Theo glanced at him in surprise, he shrugged. “My family practices Catholicism.”
Thalia jolted at that—Lykens believed in the Mother Goddess and the Gods, not the deity the humans worshipped. “They do?”
“Aye. A grandmother a century back was human and Catholic.” Another shrug. “It just carried on in respect to her. She lived a long time,” he said with a smile.
“The Fae are the angels of which you speak,” Theo murmured, and his fingers twitched on her ankle, sending a shooting spark of heat through her blood. “We answer to none.”
“Not even God?” Rafe asked.
“We all answer to God, but we have different means of communicating. Humans pray and are ignored. Supernaturals practice a closer faith, one a singular God hears, but only the Fae communicate with them all. Or,” he hesitated, clearing his throat, “used to.”
“Used to?” Thalia pounced on.
“Aye. Something happened a long time ago. The Gods ceased communicating with us.”
“Why?”
Theo glanced at Mikkel. “One of my ancestors betrayed them.”
Rafe laughed. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Lucifer?”
When Theo winced, behind her, Rafe stiffened. The Fae’s tone was mournful, shamed and pained. “You know him as this, but his true name is Morningstar.”
“You’re not serious,” Thalia breathed. Just because they didn’t believe it, didn’t mean Lyken pups weren’t taught human ways. With as many wars as they had over religion, it would have been foolhardy to have been kept out of the loop.
That meant she knew the true creation story as well as she knew the human’s.
“I am. Deadly.” Theo’s lips flattened. “The first of the fallen, Lucifer betrayed the Gods, and as a result, they cast us out.”
“From heaven?”
He shook his head at Rafe’s question. “No. Don’t forget, the Catholics jerry-rigged their religion from us. Not the other way around.
“Heaven and Hell are human constructs. They’re not real.”
Thalia wasn’t sure why that relieved her. It just did. “Where do the dead go?”
“To the soil. There is no after life. After this world, we cease to be. Our energies revert to the universe, and we power another generation.”
“Like reincarnation?” she asked.
“No. Similar, but not. We all have an essence. The Catholics call it a soul. That is our intrinsic self. It is unique to us. There is no replicating it. Once we pass, that essence reconnects with something greater than any of us can envisage, and merges once more with that energy. We disappear into that mass of power, and are lost to it. But new souls are born from this amalgamation. We are all a piece of our ancestors, and that is where the phrase ‘when our ancestors call us home’ came from.”
“That’s kind of cool,” Mikkel whispered, his tone thick. When they turned to look at him, he jerked his shoulder. “I’ve lost a lot of good men on the battlefield. I’d like to think they’re at one with the universe. At peace.”
Theo’s lips curved. “It is an eternal peace.”
“Where did Lucifer go if there is no hell?” Rafe questioned.
“To this plane of existence, of course.” He rubbed his chin. “Where the Morningstar can make mischief among those too foolish to realize his intent.”
Thalia rubbed her temple; the ache was getting worse. “So, Belinda Carlisle was wrong.”
Theo blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Heaven isn’t a place on earth,” she murmured. “Hell is.”
“Belinda Carlisle? Who is this?” Theo demanded.
Thalia snorted. “Never mind. She’s a singer. It’s from a song.”
He frowned at her, but slowly, distrustfully, nodded. “Aye.”
“There’s no punishment for the evil people in this world then?” Rafe asked, sounding disappointed.
“No,” Theo confirmed. “We live, we die. Whether we are good or evil matters not. More evil does muddy the waters though.”
“Huh?” Thalia rubbed at her temple again.
“The gloop that is this eternal wheel of souls. The more evil souls there are, the deeper, darker, and murkier that gloop becomes,” Rafe stated, reading between the lines and apparently doing well if Theo’s impressed, and exuberant, nodding was anything to go by.
“What’s heaven then?” Mikkel asked.
“It’s where the Fae live.” His fingers flexed on her shoulder. “Of course, it is not heaven, but it is what the humans know it to be.”
“This is crazy,” Thalia breathed.
Theo’s smile was decidedly toothy. “We haven’t even gotten started yet.”
** **
Theodore
Surprised in no way described Theo’s current state of mind.
Stunned? Bewildered? They were far more powerful adjectives for him to even begin to quantify his astonishment in finding his mate here.
He’d never expected that.
Had expected simply to bind himself to her in the ways of the humans—through marriage. But not through a binding of souls.
He rubbed his chest again where the ache seemed to be making no bones about stirring. What was with this pain?
It had been so long since he’d felt the like that he wasn’t sure what to do with it. The rubbing did nothing, but he felt if he ignored it, didn’t acknowledge it, it would grow stronger. And Thalia was looking at him like a frightened human looked at a big spider.
Truly, Theo was tiring of being gaped at as though he were some kind of ghoul.
It was hard not to bristle, but he managed, and instead, curled his fingers tighter about her ankle. It was a simple touch, the barest of connections, and in response, a whimper escaped her.
That the binding was there, an open link, was indisputable.
She felt it too.
“What’s going on?” It was the second mate, the male with Scandinavian bloodlines who spoke. He was jealous, Theo thought. Jealous and uncertain and frightened, and for a man such as he, whose name was that of an Archangel—and for a purpose, for the Fates did nothing for no reason at all—was not a man who often felt fear.
“It is a complicated time to be alive,” Theo started. “But then, for me, it has never not been complicated. I was born after Morningstar fell, and the world has been in uproar ever since.”
Thalia blinked. “Why am I a part of this?”
Theo’s smile was gentle, genuine, because he’d never known before… until now. “Because you are mine.” His gaze swept out, drifting over all three of them on the bed. “You are all mine.”
Mikkel reared back, but the other male didn’t. Raphael tilted his head to the side. “Do you mean…?”
Thalia scowled and sat upright. “They’re straight.”
Amused that that was what had her sitting upright and not flailing around on the mattress, Theo asked, “Aren’t we all until the right person comes along?”
“No!” she declared crossly. “That isn’t how sexuality works.” She peered bac
k at Rafe. “Is it?”
Rafe let out a small laugh. “I have no idea, sweetheart.”
“Mikkel?”
The warrior huffed. “I’m as straight as a ruler.”
“We will live a long time. Too long to say never,” Theo murmured softly.
Thalia licked her lips. “I’m not sure I…”
“You’re not sure what? You don’t want to see Mikkel kiss Rafe while I explore you with my mouth? Or you don’t want to share kisses with both Raphael and I?”
Her cheeks burned bright pink and she ducked her head.
“I’ll take that as a, ‘you’re curious.’” He shrugged. “There is no shame in that, Thalia. We must all explore the world to our hearts’ desires. And thankfully, the world of the Fae is not judgmental. We’re a hedonistic brood. Hence our issues with Morningstar.”
Thalia whispered, “I won’t have them pressured.”
“I know. I have no intention of making them do anything.” The idea amused him. “Why should I? Their free will is far more attractive to me than blind obedience.”
Rafe sighed. “We’re going off topic. That’s not useful given our current situation.”
Theo blinked. “He’s right. We are.” Then, he rubbed his chin. “My mother lives, still. But she is old and tired. Our people and yours share a link…”
“We do?”
“Aye. Royals can only inherit the throne once they have given birth to another heir. Of my seventeen siblings, none of us have done this.”
“Seventeen?” Thalia squeaked.
Theo smirked. “Aye. Seventeen. We live a long time. If I’m twelve thousand, how old do you imagine my mother is?”
“You’re the eldest?” Rafe questioned.
“Indeed. It was always deemed likely that I would inherit the throne because of that, however, I have yet to produce an heir. Neither have my siblings.”
“Why? Why is your mother so fertile and her children aren’t?”
Theo merely stared at Mikkel. The man was impudent, but then, he supposed he’d have to be—they’d all have to develop tough skin to survive at court. “Because of Morningstar. When the Gods ceased communicating with us, those born in the aftermath of Lucifer’s fall were denied the most basic of privileges.”
“The right to reproduce?”
Rafe’s soft words had Theo’s mouth firming. “Aye. For is there another right so basic, yet so intrinsic? We live and do not die for millennia, and yet, we are dying out. The eldest among us can only breed so many times. We were never that prolific anyway. Seventeen may seem a lot but in fifty thousand years?” He shook his head.
“But how am I supposed to help?” Thalia asked, her voice small.
“And there shall come a day, when a child of light shall swathe through the darkness. She shall bathe in the blood of her enemies as she fights for those who are weaker than her. But she is pure, good. All that is decent.
“A child born of three bound souls, her magic deeper than bones and cleansing, purified by a triad born of a triad.
“The light shall imbue her in the shape of the Mother. From her fruitful loins can forgiveness be sought. She shall have the power to bring war, but she is a unit striving for peace. Three bore her, three shall tame her, and three will reign at her side.
“Her trinity of mates will be her guiding light, the final end to counter the bright star of morning’s powers.”
Thalia whispered, “I understood that. I speak English. But what the fuck?”
For the first time, his smile was tight. “Yes. ‘What the fuck’ about covers it.”
“She’s going to be some kind of evil-fighting Mother?” Mikkel demanded, folding his arms across his chest. “That’s stupid.”
Theo shook his head. “No. There is no fighting evil. It is a part of humanity, as is the propensity to do good. The prophecy speaks of our sterility.”
“How did Lucifer betraying the Gods fuck with your fertility?”
“You ask me that and think I know?” Theo retorted. “I am here, I am real. I am evidence enough that we don’t always understand the world around us. Simply because I am aware of other facets to this universe does not mean I have the answers.
“It simply means I am aware of the question.”
Thalia blinked. “But how can I-I…? I’m really young, Theo. Like really young.”
“I know.” He let his fingers move over the taut rise of her calf, his intention to soothe rather than to incite. “There is no need to fear, Thalia. The prophecy has stirred. That does not mean it will be acted upon immediately.”
Rafe snorted. “Haven’t watched many Marvel films, have you?”
“Marvel? Those superhero movies?” Theo shook his head. “No. I suppose I’m what you’d call old-fashioned.”
“Well, if you did, you’d realize that prophecies, once triggered, always come to fruition before the end of the first movie.”
“This isn’t a movie,” Mikkel said drily.
“Might as well be,” Thalia retorted. She pushed her fingers into her eyes, rubbed a little. “My head’s aching again.”
Theo flinched. “Again?”
“She’s had it off and on since the challenge.” His mouth worked. “You’re aware she challenged a Pack Beta, right?”
Nodding, Theo murmured, “And won. I also know you’re the healer, Raphael, however if you would be so kind as to allow me to alleviate our mate’s pain?”
Thalia gulped at that, and he noticed the bobbing of her throat as he called her ‘our mate.’ His gaze was steady as he looked upon her, needing her to know that even if she was fearful, that was exactly what they were.
She would never be alone now.
It was time she realized that.
Raphael nodded. “Just be careful with her.”
“She’s not as fragile as you think,” Theo told him softly, but he stretched over the bed, not stopping until his hand could reach Thalia’s side. He pressed it to her forehead, called upon his magic to ease her suffering, and watched as her eyes fluttered shut. “She will sleep now. A dreamless sleep, and when she wakes, she will be energized, and she will be more receptive.”
“Did you force her will?” Mikkel snapped. “Because Thalia may be many things, but I wouldn’t describe her as receptive.”
Rafe chuckled at that, but he bowed his head and kissed her temple. “Sadly for you, Theo, Mikkel isn’t wrong. Thalia has a mind of her own, and I, for one, am damn glad about that.”
As her eyelids fluttered, the stirrings of deep sleep approaching her, Theo murmured, “Then I shall be thankful too.”
** **
Theodore
“It’s a long time since I’ve played billiards,” Theo murmured.
Louis snorted. “Pool. How old are you, man?”
Theo shot him a look. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
“Twelve millennia,” Mikkel said. “At least, that’s what he told us.”
Ade whistled. “That makes you one of the oldest, no?”
Theo shook his head. “Hardly. My mother’s seen fifty.”
“I know very little about your people,” Ade admitted drily, “but the Eldest don’t frequent this side of the world often, do they?”
“No,” Theo conceded as he lined up the white ball with the striped yellow. He was on Rafe’s team, and they’d called stripes. “But then, would you? I’d want to be among my own at that age.”
“She’s considered old then?” Rafe asked with no little interest.
Studying the mate of his mate, Theo pondered what it was about Rafe Santiago that was so… He thought about it, thought about the word that best summed the man up, and could only state ‘restful’ as being the perfect way to describe him.
There was a perpetual serenity about him, and Theo, though bewildered by such a state of being, found it very reassuring.
Thalia did too. He’d seen her clutching the other male’s hands like her life depended on it.
She clun
g to him, hid behind him, used his body as a shield even as Theo knew she’d turn She-Wolf in an instant to protect the lower-ranking male.
Theirs was an interesting dynamic, but then, the dynamic she had with Mikkel was just as unusual. And considering she was terrified of Theo, their own was hardly bland.
Clearing his throat, he murmured, “She’s one of the oldest, yes. But she’s tired. If she could, she’d abdicate. Pass on the reins to one of her children.”
“Which is why you’re here.”
Matthew’s bland statement had Theo wincing. “To some extent. I’m in this realm to get away from my people.”
“Why?”
“Because if I’d stayed, I’d have found myself in an arranged marriage like the rest of my siblings. I’ve never found such matches interesting.” When he missed the ball, he watched as Louis took his shot and pocketed one.
The rules weren’t beyond him, but he was only truly playing to do something with his hands as well as using it as a means to start a dialogue.
The men in this room were on edge, twitchy, and uncertain.
In fact, most of the people in the house were.
His mate included.
Theo covered the chalked tip, ignoring the blue powder, and pressed his palm to it. Then, he propped his chin on his knuckles and watched the game unfold.
“You came to this realm to escape an arranged marriage. Not to find your mate?” Ade asked, his tone one that spoke of his seeking clarification.
Theo nodded. “Exactly. The prophecy is another matter entirely.”
“I don’t like talk of prophecies,” Louis grumbled. “I’ve already heard the one that Bahkir, one of our Elders spoke of. One that says Thalia will bring forth a new generation to our people.” He groused. “What’s wrong with the current generation?”
“They’re bigoted,” Mikkel retorted. “They attack lower ranks, don’t care if that involves dozens of females being raped, and generally, don’t know how to behave themselves.
“Being empathetic and caring doesn’t suddenly make them weaker. You can give a shit without becoming a pussy,” the human stated bluntly before he calmly took his shot.
Triskele (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 2) Page 20
