“Aye,” he told her, his tone silky.
“Like, literally above us?” she questioned, her voice as shaky as before as she peered above them.
“Indeed. If they’re having a bad day, we can usually sense it.”
“H-How?” Her mind whirring with the possibilities, she waited with bated breath for the answer to spill from his lips.
“They take their moods out on their elements. The earth will tremble, rain will fall, storms will brew, the ocean with churn.”
“That’s not normal climate activity here?” she asked, stunned, then was stunned even more when they ceased surging upward and instead, began to move forward.
Or backward, she guessed, considering she had no idea which way was north or south.
Or even if north and south existed here.
Now, Theo’s wings moved differently. They’d been spread fully wide, and he’d used huge movements to get them off the ground. Large, surging sweeps of his wingspan to help them gain height. Now they were at the height he’d wanted, he curled them a little, and even as she felt the wind buffet them—nothing like she’d have imagined though—she knew he was going to ride the thermals.
She squeezed her eyes closed as he did just that. They tilted forward, her body moving in sync with his, as he took what seemed to be a deep dive that had them soaring like… well. Birds.
She let out a whoop of excitement as the air seemed to swirl around her, glancing off her as though she were the air equivalent of waterproof—it slipped down her body, making every fine hair dance and sway.
A sharp cry escaped her as his wings ceased gliding and they surged upward. Flustered pleasure blasted her as they rode the skies, and she let out excited laughter whenever Theo would speed up or slow down.
When he turned them both into a roll, her scream probably pierced his ear drums, but his laughter at her expense had her slapping his back even as she quickly returned to digging her fingers into his spine—no way she wanted to drop from this height.
Although, he could probably catch her.
Shit, this was too cool.
“I wanna turn around so I can see more,” she shouted in his ear, feeling braver now they’d been up here for a while.
She had no idea how much time had passed, just knew they’d been playing for what felt like a lifetime, and though she had no desire for this to stop or for him to return to the ground, she wanted to see more.
He didn’t still those huge wings of his, just ceased gliding and instead, did the flying equivalent of coasting, she figured. It meant they didn’t move forward or back, if anything they were going higher.
He grabbed her by the waist as he tucked her harder against his chest, instructing, “Hold on to my forearms.” As she did, he carefully spun her around in his hold, then crossed his arms over her belly and chest. “Tuck your ankles around mine.” She slotted her feet around his calves, and realized she was curled around him in a way that would be perfect for sex.
Well, if he’d put his cock inside her before they were only fuck knew how high up in the sky.
“Can you have sex up here?”
He snorted. “Do bears shit in the woods?”
A laugh escaped her. “We’ll have to do that.”
For the first time, he froze. “You would want this?”
He sounded shaky, and that astonished her. Hating that she couldn’t see his face when she was uncertain as to his response, she tried to peer over her shoulder but he just pressed his nose into her hair and burrowed there.
“Y-Yes. Is that wrong?”
“No,” he said quietly, but the word was breathed into her hair.
“Theo? Are you okay?”
“Just taken aback,” he admitted, tone choked.
“Why?” Who the hell wouldn’t want to fly and fuck at the same time if it was possible?
“It’s something only Fae do with those they trust dearly,” he explained.
“Why? They can fly... if they fall, they don’t just drop.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s a matter of great trust to put yourself in the hands of someone else.”
“The wings of someone else,” she corrected drily. “But I trust you. You know that now, don’t you?”
“I have robbed you of something as precious to you as my wings are to me, Thalia. How can you trust me?”
The self-loathing in his voice stirred something inside her.
Where she’d been content to shove her grief into a huge pile to deal with later, always later, it seemed as though that technique, while useful for her, wasn’t so useful for him. Her other mates too?
She wasn’t sure.
Not allowing herself to grieve meant she wasn’t focused on her current state. That might not be considered healthy, but she was doing what she needed to do to cope.
However, Thalia was no longer a single entity.
She had responsibilities.
Three of them.
And apparently, she was failing if the fear and self-loathing entwining around each other in Theo’s voice was anything to go by.
“Theo, it’s not your fault.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, of course not. You saved me, didn’t you?”
Tension riddled his body, an answer in and of itself. Then, he whispered, “Your She-Wolf is a part of your soul.”
Did he think she didn’t know that? A tad crossly, she gritted out, “And you’re not? Rafe? Mikkel, too? Aren’t you all tied to my soul as She was?”
Was.
Fuck.
Tears pricked her eyes.
Is.
She had to remind herself that her She-Wolf could return.
Would return.
They just needed time, and because of the freaky as fuck way time in Heden worked, they had plenty of it to smooth over troubled waters.
And when had Thalia’s life been anything other than that?
“You don’t know…”
“What don’t I know?” she demanded, her nails digging slightly into his forearms.
What hadn’t he told her?
He and Rafe had told her what had happened that night, but even in her state of bewilderment, she’d known there was something else going on.
Rafe wasn’t aware of it.
He seemed as confused as Mikkel and herself.
“I’d have done anything to save you,” he said on a sudden surge, and before she could form a reply, do little more than scowl at nothing he dove forward.
She let out a squeak as, for the first time, she saw the world ahead of her in a full frontal position.
The cocoon shielded her—not from Theo’s words, nor did she feel like it would save her from falling, but it made the flight itself more comfortable. She wasn’t being splattered with bugs—if bugs flew this high. The wind wasn’t tearing at her eyes or hair no matter how fast they flew, and her skin didn’t prickle from the cold—because, this high, surely it was cold, right? Even in the unknown anomaly that was Heden.
With the freedom of the cocoon, however, she saw sights that both amazed her and scared her.
It was like falling into a Walt Disney concept of Heden and falling short.
There was a mountain topped by a castle, sure.
But this castle?
Well, it made Disneyland’s look tiny.
This had more turrets than she’d had hot dinners, and it was platinum.
All of it.
It reminded her of pictures she’d seen of Catherine’s Palace in St Petersburg, but this made that look understated.
Just looking at the grand edifice made her eyes water—and those eyes hadn’t been stinging with wind being blown into them.
The sparkle was like there’d been an explosion in a glitter factory. It was immense in its size. Awesome in its beauty.
“That’s where we’ve been staying?”
“Yes,” he told her gruffly.
She scowled at that. “But we were flying away from it. Not to. How is it in the
distance?”
“It’s glamor.”
“Glamor? Why?”
“No matter which direction you fly from, the castle always appears due north.”
“So it moves?”
He hesitated. “It’s complicated, and not particularly interesting.”
She huffed at that. “Maybe not to you.”
His laughter sounded a little less forced this time. “I never appreciated those sorts of lessons. You’d be better off asking my brother Bertrand.”
“Bertrand? Wow. That’s a sucky name.”
“One of a list of sucky names.”
“Your name doesn’t suck,” she countered.
“Of this I’m aware,” he said smugly. “But, as she has often declared, much to my siblings’ dislike, the Gods broke the mold when they made me.”
If she hadn’t heard the snort in his words before it made an appearance, she’d have had to elbow him in the belly for his arrogance. “Something you obviously disagree with?”
“I am her firstborn. I am her favorite, and always will be.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea. It is a question I have asked my father many times, but either he does not know or does not wish to tell me.”
She pondered that a second. “Why didn’t you ask Isaura?”
“One doesn’t ask Isaura such things.”
“Why not?”
Another shrug jostled her slightly. “I don’t know. One just doesn’t.”
“Sounds like a bullshit answer to me,” she grumbled.
“Oh, indeed it is. However, some things simply cannot be changed.” He tightened his grip on her. “I’d point, but I have a rather pleasant bundle in my arms.”
She laughed. “Where am I looking?”
“In the far distance, do you see the waters?”
“Aye,” she murmured without thinking, then had to laugh again. “I mean, yes.”
“Those waters are vital to us. They’re where Fae women go to give birth.”
Thalia blinked. “Excuse me?” When he snickered, she questioned, “Like fish?”
“I suppose more like salmon,” he said thoughtfully.
This time, she did elbow him in the gut. “You’re teasing.”
“No,” he said on a laugh. “I’m not actually.”
“Why the hell do Fae women give birth in the ocean?”
His chuckle set her nerves on fire—in a good way. “It is tradition and considered good luck. You know the story of Achilles?”
“You mean, how his mom dipped him in the River Styx, but she dangled him from his ankle and that’s why that was his only weakness?”
He kissed the side of her face. “You know your mythology,” he said, approval lacing his words.
“I had plenty of time to read,” she replied drily. “Well, go on. What about Achilles?”
“It’s not a myth. It’s the truth.”
“What is? Achilles’ heel is a true story?”
“Aye. Of course, humans muddled the story. The birthing waters are a relatively modern technique. It’s something we’ve been doing for the past four thousand years.”
“It’s positively newborn,” she said, clucking her tongue because rolling her eyes would be wasted on him with her dangling in front of him the way she was.
She heard the grin in his voice as he murmured, “Consider my mother’s age, Thalia, indeed, consider my own, and tell me four thousand years ago might as well have been yesterday.”
She conceded with a huff. “Why the waters?” she demanded.
“Because they’re healing. We are mostly water, are we not? Of the water, to the water. We do better when we are close to it.
“One of our punishments was the pain of labor, and Fae females, though strong in many instances, are incredibly weak during pregnancy and labor. The waters are regenerative. They help with healing and lower stress, in some, they even offer pain relief—it’s the vapors. The waters are warm enough to steam slightly.”
“Wow, can we go?”
“It’s where we’re heading now,” he told her, his nod making his hair tickle the side of her face.
“Why? Do you think it might do my She-Wolf good?”
“I think it will do no harm, and it will help you calm too. We both need it.”
“It’s a shame Mikkel and Rafe couldn’t come,” she told him, her tone wistful.
“Aye, but the waters can only be approached by the air. I’m sorry,” he told her, sounding genuinely apologetic.
“You don’t have to be sorry. I just like being with the three of you, that’s all.”
“I can tell. It relieves me, I must admit.”
She couldn’t blame him for feeling relieved—she’d been standoffish with him before she’d been shot. A fact that would probably make her feel guilty for the rest of her life.
“I wish I hadn’t been frightened of you when I first met you,” she told him softly, closing her eyes against the startling pink sky and the approaching waters that were the deepest, richest blue she’d ever seen in her life.
Until now, she’d seen very little beneath her, save for clouds, but as they neared these miracle waters, that was suddenly all she could see.
“It is sensible to fear that which we do not understand,” he said quietly, and though she knew she was forgiven, that to Theo there probably wasn’t anything to forgive, she still felt shame.
“When Mikkel first met me,” she explained quietly, “he didn’t fall into my arms. In fact, Rafe didn’t either. It doesn’t seem fair that the one who did want me without question, was the one who I fought.”
“Life can be funny sometimes,” he said sagely. “You were cool towards me for a handful of days, my sweet, and we shall live several handfuls of lifetimes.”
“But that was our beginning.”
“And what matters is the middle.”
“Not the end?” she asked quietly.
“For us, there will be no end.” Though her eyes flared wide at that, she stayed silent as he murmured, “And when our ancestors call us home, even then, the four of us shall merge into the wheel of souls as one single entity. Not even then will we be parted.”
Tears pricked her eyes at the joy in his voice. “You were lonely,” she said, not even asking him, just pointing out a hard truth.
“I was. I had Brian, but when he left, I was… I realized how alone I’d always been and always would be.
“The Fae are not like Lykens. You have a higher chance of meeting your mates because there are more of you. For the Fae, we are not so fortunate.
“Maybe once upon a time it was not so difficult, but with our numbers decreasing, and so very few births, hope is not something we are blessed with.
“I never thought to have you, never mind Mikkel and Rafe, in my life. You truly are my blessings, and that is why I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you.”
“What?” she asked, voice choked. “Save my life? You did what you had to do, Theo. I know that. It hurts, and I have to learn to process it, but it’s the truth—I was dying, and you saved me.
“You’d been looking for me for thousands of years; there was no way you were going to let me go, even if it meant taking my She-Wolf from me.” There was no heat, no hatred or recriminations in her voice. “In your place, I’d have done the exact same thing.
“I am not even a blip on the timeline in comparison to you. I’m beyond a baby, and yet, all I’ve known is loneliness, Theo. For such a short amount of time. And I know, in the face of losing any of you, I’d have made you hate me if it meant keeping you safe and alive.”
He let out a shuddering breath. “If I could have done more, I would.”
“Of course,” she told him easily, and the understanding in her tone wasn’t forced. Truly.
Did she miss her beast?
Fuck, it was like losing her stomach. Or her liver. Or some other intrinsic piece of her body without which she couldn’t function—not wholly.
Did she wa
nt her She-Wolf back?
Desperately. More than she wanted to eat, and more than she wanted her…
No.
Not her next breath.
She sucked in some air, sucked it in and let it cleanse her.
Those were useless thoughts. Pointless. Stupid.
Her fingers dug into Theo’s forearms. “Thank you.”
The words were simple, softly and quietly uttered.
“What for?”
“For saving me.”
He let out a choking noise. “You don’t have to—”
“I do. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be doing this with you today, would I? At least I have a tomorrow. It doesn’t matter if my She-Wolf is there or not. I am. And you will be. And so will Rafe and Mikkel.” It was her turn to release a shuddering breath. “That’s what counts.”
He squeezed her. “We’ll figure it out. Not only where your She-Wolf has gone but who did this to you in the first place.”
She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been thinking about that too. Human hunters, armed with mercury bullets, on Pack land during the night of a Full Moon run?
Something definitely stank.
Still, she shoved thoughts of that aside and told him, “I know. But if we don’t…” She tried to smile, and it was wobbly, but it existed. “It’s okay, Theo. You’re just going to have to show me how to protect myself without her.”
Though the words cut through her, she meant them, and she thought he sensed that because he pressed his lips to her hair.
They carried on gliding through the pink-as-salmon sky and when she saw the waters beneath her, she felt her eyes widen because the sea, like clear turquoise, was fucking weird. So beautiful. So glorious. Yet so odd too.
It was still. So still, it was almost like looking at a completely flat surface.
“Are you sure they’re waters?” she asked doubtfully, now questioning her eyes because it was like looking at tens of miles of marble. Blue marble, with clear-as-quartz veins, and rosy striations that had to come from the sky’s reflection.
He snickered. “Do you trust me?”
She narrowed her gaze at him—the snicker combined with the question… who the fuck would trust him when he phrased it like that? A more naïve woman than Thalia Lyndhoven, that was who. And she was right not to trust him.
He released her.
The bastard!
Triad (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 3) Page 7
