Triad
The TriAlpha Chronicles: Book Three
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.
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Copyright © Gemma Mazurke 2018
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Triad
The Void
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To be continued
The Void
The agony on Caelus’s face was more than Terra could bear.
“She’s dying.” He hung his head low, his shoulders rounding deeper over his knees as his forehead almost touched them.
“We should never have trusted the Fates. They always mess with our plans,” Aer whispered, his tone unusually somber. Just like his name, he was the most buoyant of her lovers, but not at this moment.
Not when their daughter was lying mere feet away from the cusp of death.
“We have to believe she can do this. We gave her mates for this reason. She will be in danger, and they will work together to save her.”
But Caelus let out a growl. “Mercury. Raphael cannot save her, for she is poison to him.”
“But Theodore can,” Mare inserted, shooting her a concerned look at Caelus’s ragged state.
In the many years they’d been together, never had Caelus been like this. So highly strung, so prone to rages, and so overcome with fear at what might happen to one of their daughters.
Many times, they had sent their infants out into the cold, harsh world. Many sons and many daughters had perished along the way; some having met their parents’ aspirations for them, others having lost their lives on the journey.
The agony never abated, but Caelus’s reactions were starting to concern all of them.
“What is it?” Terra asked, keeping her tone calm. “Why are you agonizing over Thalia? Why not Enrico or Nikola? Or Marie before her? Why Thalia?”
Caelus’s shoulders hunched deeper at the names of the children they had lost along the way.
While all the creatures on Earth were Terra and her lovers’ children, the ones born of their bone were different. Though they tried to pretend otherwise, it was an impossible task.
Especially with the burden these children bore on their parents’ behalf.
She watched as he leaped off the bed and, grabbing the dagger from the belt he wore tucked about his waist when he bothered to dress, strode over to the balcony doors that overlooked their territory.
With the blade bare, she saw the Cosmos, his domain, reflected in its glint and didn’t stop him when he sliced the tip down the central line of his forearm. As blood gathered there, he held his arm out over the low balcony wall and let the drops tip into the abyss below.
Her heart in her throat, she whispered, “What have you done, Caelus?”
He turned back to look at her as more droplets of his blood tumbled in a cascade that would have repercussions not even they could forecast. “She has to survive,” was all he said.
“Why?” Aer demanded, thrusting his hands onto his hips. “You’ve never cared this deeply before, Caelus.”
Their errant lover peered upward, his gaze cast on the purple and pink Cosmos that governed so much of the world, and yet, for the most part, was cast aside. Disregarded.
“He’s winning.”
Terra’s throat closed. “No.”
Caelus, not bothering to look back at her, nodded. “He is. The wheel of souls is morphing, Terra. We cannot afford another mistake. We have no time to waste. She must live.”
Though her bottom lip trembled, she nodded, then when Mare tugged her onto his lap, she cuddled into him the minute she could.
“All will be well.”
His words were quiet, low.
She didn’t believe him. Wasn’t sure if she could. But she loved him for trying.
1
Rafe
A moan slipped from Thalia Lyndhoven’s mouth before she even moved on the sheets beneath her. The noise had the three men in the bedroom jerking upright and rushing over to her side.
The bed was huge.
Wide enough for six people to sleep comfortably, but Thalia lay beneath the white silk coverlet, her skin as pale as the sheets covering her, all alone. On a sea of mattress, she was riding this particular wave by herself, and Raphael Santiago hated that.
Loathed it with every fiber of his being.
He was her mate. He should have been able to help her, and instead, he’d been useless. He was a healer but he’d failed her. How many times would he do so? How many times until she…
Enough.
Thoughts of this nature helped no one.
Licking his lips, Rafe moved his hand to touch her ankle. The faint pressure of his fingertips against it had her moaning again, and though his instincts made him want to lift his fingers away, something deeper told him to stay.
His Wolf.
Rafe gulped.
The beast was lost. It was pacing, urgency winding it as it sought its mate, but its mate wasn’t there.
Gone.
The blank space where Thalia’s She-Wolf had once been was more than Rafe’s Wolf could stand. He could feel the beast thrashing inside him, tearing at the bonds of the human half’s control as the creature’s need to be with its other half surged.
“What’s wrong?”
The words came from Mikkel Hessel, Thalia’s second mate. They were a low, concerned growl that had Rafe swallowing thickly.
“My beast is…” What? What was his Wolf doing? “Mourning?” He phrased it as a question because he had no idea what the creature was truly feeling. All he knew was that the once weak animal was a thousand times stronger than it had ever been.
Rafe’s Wolf was Gamma. The lowest of the low in the pack hierarchy. Before Thalia, the Wolf only came when called upon by the power of the Full Moon, or if another, stronger Wolf or She-Wolf shifted in his vicinity.
The beast had always been weak. And Rafe’s grasp on the creature had always been tenuous.
Now?
The surge of power brimming through his veins made him question everything, and the moment was inopportune because this was not the time to be thinking of himself.
Another moan fell from Thalia’s lips, and swiftly, he used his power and his gentle touch on her
ankle to send his healing heat through her limbs.
Thalia needed every bit of encouragement she could get to wake up. She’d been in this magical coma for six days.
Six.
Endless.
Days.
And who could blame her?
Rafe had been there when Theo had done what he’d done, and neither of them were going to overcome what they’d had to do to help Thalia survive a mercury-laced bullet that she’d been hit with during a Full Moon run.
The healing heat seemed to help take some of her grogginess away because she finally vocalized, “R-Rafe?” That his name was the first thing she spoke filled him with pride, and then, he surprised himself by feeling relieved when she whispered, “Mikkel? Theo?” By the last name, panic was in her voice. She sat up, her back straight as she glanced around the strange quarters before she seemed to realize they were there, standing around the bed.
Theodore Sidhe let out a soft humming sound that had her head falling back slightly and her eyelids growing heavy. She didn’t fall asleep, but to the humming sound, she quivered in place and slowly began to tumble down to the mattress.
With her now supine, his Wolf insisted he get close to her.
Lykens on the whole, breed regardless, were tactile by nature. Even Tigers who were solitary beasts would touch their brethren, sit in a pile, connected, if they were en masse. His Wolf demanded they approach their mate, even if that mate was more of a shell to the beast than the creature knew what to do with.
He scrambled over the foot of the bed and huddled next to her. At his touch, she let out a sleepy sigh and seemed to merge into him—her body turning fluid as she rolled onto her side, and slipped one leg through his and then the other over his hip. With a murmur of their names, she beckoned Theo and Mikkel close.
Rafe watched, curious as to who would be at Thalia’s back. Was he surprised when Theo let Mikkel cuddle up next to her? No. He wasn’t actually. The Fae male sat down, lotus-style, where her feet had been when she’d laid flat, but he pressed his hand to the calf she’d hooked over Rafe’s side.
Mikkel pressed his face into the back of Thalia’s neck and Rafe felt the shudder go through the human male.
Hours before Thalia had been shot, Mikkel had claimed her.
There was only one aspect of this situation that hadn’t been fucked up, and that was the fact Mikkel was human and not Lyken. Had he had a beast inside him, he’d have gone on a rampage. Anyone so newly claimed, Lyken or human, was fragile. The need to cement bonds that would last a very long lifetime was imperative. Even with the ties in place, the urge to replace anything flimsy with solid links became a necessity.
On the other hand, because he was human, Mikkel seemed to have shut down. He’d been like the walking dead since Thalia’s shooting and only now seemed to be waking from that half-state.
Gods, who was Rafe kidding?
They’d all been half-dead without her.
This bond was more than anything he’d… Well, mate bonds were precious, sanctified in the Lyken world. Everyone knew how vital they were. One mate’s death could bring about the other’s, even if that one was in the peak of health.
But this?
It went deeper, and considering Thalia was at the heart of two prophecies, maybe it made sense that even her mate bonds went deeper than the soul.
“Where are we?” she asked groggily, and it was only then Rafe realized Theo had still been humming. At her question, he stopped, and the minute he did, she started to sit upright again.
The humming was an incantation?
Magic?
Rafe wasn’t sure, but he realized it was important they keep Thalia subdued. When she realized what had happened, shit was about to get real.
Blurting out, “We’re in Theo’s homeland. Heden,” he hoped she’d stay calm. Even though he knew that that name still fucked with his head, so why wouldn’t it his mate’s?
Theo had explained Heden had spurred a wave of derivative words. Eden. Heaven. Hedonism. All from the Land of the Fae’s name.
Still, now was not the time for thoughts like that. He focused on Thalia and watched her slowly roll her head on the pillow as she turned to look at him. The move enabled Mikkel to press his entire face into her nape, and his arm slipped over her waist to tuck her tighter into him.
After days of standoffishness, it seemed the wall Mikkel had intended to keep between him and their mate was gone.
If any good could be found in this shitty situation, it was there. Thalia didn’t need her mates to question the bond they had with her. And Mikkel being Mikkel, totally untrusting of anything he couldn’t discern with his five senses, would have put space between them.
In many ways, Mikkel was detached, and Rafe knew that was because of what he’d done and seen on his tours of duty.
Mikkel hid it, but he presented signs of PTSD. Rafe hadn’t known it before because his healing talents didn’t work on humans; he only had the know-how he’d learned in med school and his years as a surgeon to guide him on that score. But once Thalia had claimed Mikkel as her own, a strange link had flared to life and suddenly, Mikkel’s psyche had been open for Rafe’s exploration.
Not that he’d told the human that. He didn’t have to be able to read the man’s mind to know that revelation wouldn’t go down well.
“Theo’s homeland?” Thalia repeated. Slowly, she blinked, and the lag made Rafe wonder what the fuck the Fae male was doing to her with his humming.
Thalia was definitely not firing on all cylinders.
And though it was weird, he was relieved. Even the name ‘Heden’ hadn’t riled her too much.
“Yes. We needed to come here.”
“Why? We were at my grandparents’ home, weren’t we?” Her words were slow and cautious, and Rafe knew she was having to carefully enunciate each of them so as not to slur.
Tension filled him at her question however. “We were,” he confirmed, his tone more ragged than he’d have liked. “We went for a Full Moon run, do you remember?”
She closed her eyes as though seeking the memory, and like that, they flared open. Panic filled them, but her words were still sluggish as she whispered, “Theo stop. Need to…” At her request, Theo ceased humming and Thalia scrambled upright within milliseconds of the humming coming to a halt. Her arms flailed as she tried to get out of Mikkel’s hold and her legs kicked to free herself from the tangle she’d made with Rafe’s.
She let out a sharp gasp. The sound was ragged and it slashed at his conscience. Then, she began to pant, and he sensed how close she was to hyperventilating.
“Where? Where is She?” Thalia’s stress on the word She had Rafe’s own Wolf roaring to life. The creature literally flung himself at the confines Rafe set on his beast. “Can’t. Feel. Her. Empty. Oh Gods, empty. Where?” The pain was worse than a screwdriver to the chest.
In contrast to her terror, Theo’s voice was calm. “You can’t feel her, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t here.”
Rafe shot the Fae male a look.
“What the fuck does that mean? Where’s my She-Wolf?”
“She’s injured,” he explained, his voice soothing and free from emotion. Of them all, he was the most composed.
At Thalia’s scrambling, both Rafe and Mikkel had sat up with her. Tension lined both their faces, but Theo’s was free from strain. That didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling it. Rafe had come to learn this past week that the more emotion Theo processed, the less he seemed to leak.
Without that experience, Rafe would think the bastard unfeeling, and he had the sense that that was how Thalia would see Theo if they didn’t handle this situation carefully.
The need to see her settled among her three mates surprised him. His and his Wolf’s lack of jealousy came as a shock. He’d never expected to want to facilitate the relationship Thalia had with her triad of mates, but he did. And he would.
Thalia was all that mattered.
Almost losing her had made him realize
that.
“Injured?” Thalia said with a frown, and Rafe watched, feeling broken hearted, as she rubbed her chest. “We’ve been injured before. I’ve never felt this…”
Theo licked his lips—the faint break in his control more telling than the clearing of his throat. “You won’t feel her.”
Thalia’s breathing increased and her hands tightened into fists. Instantly, Rafe reached down and covered one. Mikkel mirrored his move, and a vicious power seemed to throb through their mate, making him aware that she wanted to pull away from them, that she wanted to remain untouched. But she didn’t.
She made no move to shift away, to break contact.
Relief whispered through him, until Theo explained, “You were dying, Thalia.”
A scowl puckered her brow. She was so young, too young for all the weight on her shoulders, and this was just an added burden.
Thalia was the dawn of a new age for not just one species but two. The Fae and Lykenkind would be forever altered because of her presence in the world. Not only did she have that to contend with, she’d had bad parents who’d locked her up in her rooms like she was a mad dog, had endured monthly heats since she was nothing more than a girl, had three mates, had connected with her She-Wolf in a way that went beyond anything Rafe had even heard about, and now that connection was broken.
Thalia was more than feeling the turbulence.
Couldn’t the Fates ever cut her some damn slack?
“I remember. Hunters. They shot me.”
“With mercury,” Rafe added, his tone grave.
She winced. “Shit. Really?” Thalia shifted position slightly, as though fidgeting would ease the restlessness of her soul.
“Really,” Theo intoned, the word ominous. “By the time I got to you, the metal had cleaved itself to your bones. Rafe couldn’t help because it was mercury, and I-I…” He paused to lick his lips. There was an agony deep down in his eyes that ate at Rafe. “We couldn’t lose you, Thalia.”
She stilled. “You did something to my She-Wolf.” A statement. Not a question.
“She’s…” He hesitated, again, leaking more emotion than Rafe had seen all week. His jaw worked as he tried and failed to seek the appropriate words, words that could explain where the beast was, but none were forthcoming, and Rafe and Mikkel were no help. They were as in the dark as Thalia—didn’t have a clue what Theo had done. He hadn’t told them, had just used Rafe’s talents and had kept them informed enough to keep them compliant.
Triad (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 3) Page 1
