Triad (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 3)

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Triad (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 3) Page 8

by Serena Akeroyd


  She still clung to him, or at least, tried to, but he did some weird mambo-thing with his wings that had her tossing out into the air like a pancake that was about to be splatted onto the stovetop.

  She let out a shrill scream, then her She-Wolf’s instincts came to the fore. The creature might not be there but her teachings would never disappear. She forced herself to straighten, to bend her knees so she’d slice cleanly through the water.

  The ever-approaching, still marble-looking water.

  Another scream escaped her seconds before she was due to hit the wave-less surface, and then, she powered at least fifteen feet down into liquid that was like pure silk and pure gold had had a baby. The minute she surfaced, she howled with laughter, but inwardly, she plotted. Thalia knew when she got her hands on her mate again, she’d wring his fucking neck.

  Gods damn him, but her old fuddy-duddy of a mate had some tricks up his sleeve, but more fool Theo, because he wasn’t the only one.

  5

  Rafe

  The atrium was, as with everything on Heden, huge.

  Wherever they went, Rafe was astonished by the sheer size. He was American. Well accustomed to everything being supersized, but the Fae?

  They took that shit to a whole ‘nother level.

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, he allowed the group ahead of him to trail forward. Theo had decided that today was the day Thalia would start her training, and was using Mikkel as a guinea pig with the intention of toughening him up too.

  If Rafe was fortunate, he wouldn’t be included in the lessons. But he doubted it.

  Theo had an edge at the moment.

  Rafe had noticed that edge growing ever larger since his mother had barged her way into their quarters.

  It had been six days since that moment, and Theo was growing restless.

  By contrast, Mikkel was relaxed, and Rafe was too. There was something about this place, something that inspired calm.

  Rafe was a man used to the adrenaline rushes of working as a surgeon. He dealt with life and death crises during every work shift. That part of his life was stressful, but he loved it. It was the only place where he was in charge of his world, where he ruled his own particular roost. He didn’t have to answer to many people, and considering the way he’d always been treated by the pack, being king of his own little hill came as a luxury.

  But he was used to stress. Accustomed to late nights and long days, of being in surgery in cramped quarters for endless hours. Here? He’d barely left Theo’s large suite, and he wasn’t going stir crazy. If anything, he loved it.

  The Fae weren’t big on entertainment like humans were, but they had fascinating books, had a screen that was similar to the TV but without an outlet—he wasn’t sure what the Fae watched on it, but all they had to do was ask Theo for something, and it would appear on the screen.

  He’d even asked for the latest Marvel movie—one that was still being directed—and the takes the film producers had made so far had shown up on screen.

  This shit was beyond magical.

  So, no, he hadn’t been bored while being stuck in Theo’s rooms. He’d been calm and relaxed. And the chance to watch Thalia had been a pleasant one.

  She’d been slower than before. A lot gentler than he remembered. Quieter too as she came to terms with not having her She-Wolf on call.

  There had been teary moments, angry ones, sad ones, and Rafe had found a great welter of peace in being able to be there for her. Whenever she experienced a downer, he and Mikkel would just surround her on both sides, and embrace her until she rested.

  It was a testament to the strength of his woman, Rafe thought, that those instances were few and far between.

  As he peered up at a tapestry that was over forty feet long and close to twenty feet wide, he found himself awestruck.

  Not just of his mate, but of this place.

  “Theo, where the hell are we?”

  “The training rooms,” came the easy reply.

  “Well, that’s a bland answer if ever I heard one,” he said with a snort. “We’re training so we’re going to the training rooms.”

  “We’re in the training rooms,” Theo corrected.

  Rafe looked around the empty rooms. “Not many people training.”

  Theo’s sigh was deep. “When I was a child, this place was bustling. Now, our numbers are mostly old and we’ve already gone through these lessons. We have no need of this place anymore.”

  The sadness in Theo’s voice touched Rafe, as it usually did when he spoke of his life here.

  Theo wasn’t happy in Heden. That much was evident.

  In the grand scheme of things, Rafe didn’t know Theo all that well. He and Thalia had barely had a chance to connect before she was wounded, and then here, Theo had been busy with tasks they weren’t privy to.

  But over the week of watching Thalia, praying she’d awaken, hoping to the Gods that she would be with them soon, Rafe felt like a connection had stirred to life between Thalia’s triad of males.

  How could it not have, though?

  While he had no idea what Theo had actually done to save Thalia, he’d used Rafe’s powers to do ‘it.’ That forged a connection, didn’t it?

  And as they sat there, praying for their downed female, the camaraderie that had spawned between them made sense, did it not?

  Rafe liked to think so anyway, and what he’d garnered was that while he, Mikkel, and Thalia felt like they could breathe here, Theo most definitely didn’t share that sensation.

  “What are we doing here if there’s nobody to train with?” Mikkel groused.

  He was being truculent. Rafe couldn’t blame him. He was a warrior, after all. Highly trained and specialized in only the Gods knew what. His ego was being shafted.

  “We’re here to help Thalia,” Theo said, reproof in his voice.

  Their mate snorted. “Don’t feel too badly, Mikkel. We’re both babies in this world.” Then she winked, and Rafe grimaced.

  For a second, the human just stared at their cocky female, then he charged. She screeched when he bent over, his shoulder connecting with her stomach. Finding herself flipped over, her face staring at the back of Mikkel’s legs, she let out another squeak when Mikkel’s hand connected firmly with the rounded curve of her ass.

  “No fair!” she cried.

  Rafe, watching on with an amused smile, murmured, “All’s fair in love and war.”

  She huffed. “That’s no help!” She reared upward to spear him with a glare—it was spoiled by the mass of blond waves that rapidly covered her face. She reached up to shove them aside but her hair was so thick and abundant that it swiftly shifted and hid her glowering eyes from him.

  Laughing, Mikkel spanked her again. “Now whose ego is being stroked?”

  She said nothing for a second, and they swiftly realized why.

  Mikkel howled and jumped a foot in the air. He immediately rubbed his ass. “You little minx!” he bellowed. “She just bit me.”

  “What can you expect from a woman who’s half wolf?” Theo asked, but his lips were curved in a wide grin.

  “Put me down,” Thalia insisted. “And be grateful other, softer things aren’t in my direct vicinity. This hemp doesn’t protect much.”

  Mikkel shuddered, then he surprised them all. He complied with Thalia’s wishes, started to move her so she was once again standing on her own feet, but just before he did, Theo barked out, “Mikkel, hold her in place over your head.”

  Rafe gaped at him. “She isn’t a set of barbells.”

  Mikkel just snorted and complied—much to Thalia’s disapproval. Her enraged shriek had Rafe’s ears splitting in two.

  “Thalia, I want to see how strong your instincts are without the She-Wolf.”

  She’d been wriggling, but now, at his words, Thalia stopped. “What?”

  He ignored her and, to Mikkel, said, “Throw her against that wall.”

  “What the fuck?” Rafe started, striding forward he went
to reach for Thalia but Theo held up a hand.

  “This room is a construct,” he explained. “The tapestries are enchanted.” Before Rafe’s eyes, the tapestries began to move. They were no longer flat surfaces that were unyielding. These had concave and convex bumps in them. As Theo began manipulating the tapestry, it became a cocoon—the perfect Thalia-shaped size.

  “Throw her against the tapestry, Mikkel,” Theo instructed. “Thalia, I want you to try to stop yourself from connecting with it.”

  “How though?” she asked, her breath a little shaky.

  “However you wish.”

  “That doesn’t narrow things down,” she growled.

  “No. It wouldn’t. In that position, with her She-Wolf, she’d have shifted, and the bitch would have taken the brunt of the fall,” Rafe murmured, stepping over toward Thalia’s Fae mate.

  As he did, his feet clipped against the solid marble floor. It wasn’t like Earth marble. The colors in this were radiant. Like a starburst. And as he stood on it, the colors seemed to move, as though the weight of his body put a pressure on it that morphed the hues.

  As with everything in this place, it was magical.

  Maybe that was why he, Mikkel, and Thalia enjoyed it here. It was like being in Willy Wonka’s factory, and they were back being children again.

  “Well, she can’t rely on her She-Wolf now, can she?” Theo told him gently. “I want to see what her instincts tell her to do.”

  He winced. “Is this the right time?”

  She’d only been out of the odd coma Theo had induced in her for less than a week—and he didn’t care if that week was longer here thanks to the odd passage of time Heden had, or that she had stronger reserves because of her race. In his eyes, she was still recuperating. Being tossed around like a yoyo didn’t fall in line with that.

  Theo held up a hand, attempting to forestall the words bubbling from Rafe’s lips. “I know you wish to protect her, but we can’t. The sooner she falls back on her instincts the better.”

  “We’re here to shield her if she’s in danger,” Rafe growled, and for the first time, he stepped into Theo’s space. Their chests were bare inches away, and even as a part of Rafe’s mind informed him that he was challenging Theo when he’d never challenged anyone in his damn life, Theo’s hands came out to cup his shoulders.

  “I do not wish to fight, mate of my mate,” Theo said gently. “I wish for her to be strong. Yes, we can protect her from the happenings on Earth. But in this realm? She needs to be stronger.

  “I have managed to hold off the Court’s interest in her for now. But that is a temporary reprieve. My mother’s curiosity is renowned in the whole of Heden, but her patience is not. She is notorious for being impatient.

  “Thalia, when she is presented officially as my mate, must be stronger than she is now. Or, if not stronger,” he conceded, “then prepared for what may happen.”

  “What might happen?” Rafe demanded, but his posture shifted, relaxed. The aggression that had flowed through him—for the first time in his life—dissipated at the calm explanation.

  Theo’s words made sense, and Rafe was, no matter what, a very sensible male.

  “I don’t know,” Theo admitted honestly. “Nothing might happen, but something could and I’d prefer for Thalia to be armed in the off-chance that…”

  “Armed?”

  Thalia’s stunned tone had Rafe whipping around to look at her—not that he could see all that much. She was facing upward, after all, still in Mikkel’s grasp—fuck, how long could he keep her like that? The man must bench-press Buicks in his spare time—before he even had the help of his burgeoning mate bond with Thalia to strengthen him.

  “Yes, armed. There are weapons I can arm you with, and in the face of any aggression, you can call on them for your aid.”

  Mikkel scowled, turning around to glower at Theo as he demanded, “I thought you said it was safe here.”

  He looked like an Olympic gymnast in the weightlifting category. His stance was strong and straight, and Thalia looked so dainty and petite in his grasp that all of Rafe’s instincts stirred to life once more.

  He choked them back because now was not the time. Just because he didn’t understand Theo’s concerns, didn’t mean they could be ignored. They had to address them. Thalia had to be safe.

  Her safety was paramount.

  That was something even Rafe’s Wolf could understand, and the beast was nearly disconsolate at Thalia’s She-Wolf’s disappearance. So, if that mournful creature could discern what was what, then Rafe knew he had to listen to Theo rather than fight him on this.

  Thalia needed their protection, yes, but she also needed to be able to stand on her own two feet.

  Ironic, considering her current stance.

  “It is safer here than your realm. Thalia’s position puts her in danger. Because the pack mauled the hunters in their outrage at their presence on Pack land, we don’t know who sent them. But among the thousands of Wolves roaming that land on that particular Full Moon, they managed to hit Thalia. That is a coincidence I do not believe in.”

  “You think I was targeted?”

  “I do,” Theo told her softly.

  “But they were humans,” Mikkel argued. “I didn’t learn much while I was waiting for you to come bring me here, but I learned that.”

  “So? Lykens have used humans as patsies for hundreds of years.”

  “But why?” Rafe asked. “Simply because of her new role?”

  “If I had the answers, then I wouldn’t be as stressed as I am, Rafe,” Theo stated drily, confirming his belief that the other male had been under pressure of late.

  Thalia, still gaping at them both from her position over Mikkel’s head, murmured, “You want me to land flat on my face, don’t you?”

  Theo’s nostrils flared. “That would be really useful,” he said softly, but there was humor in his eyes.

  She huffed. “Go for it on the count of three, Mikkel.”

  “Gotcha,” their second mate said cheerfully. Thalia closed her eyes and began to count, except, on the count of two, not three, Mikkel tossed her.

  She let out a loud shriek and Rafe, cringing, watched in amazement as she did a double somersault in the air and landed on her toes like some kind of kung fu master.

  Even as he was gawking at her, she let out another shriek and took a running kick at Mikkel. “You jerk,” she screeched, and laughing, he deflected her kick by cutting to the side. When she aimed a punch at his head, he ducked, grabbed her balled fist and declared, “But you love me for it.”

  She let out another roar of outrage and did what none of them had expected her to do.

  Kneed him in the balls.

  He went down like a snowman on a sunny morning.

  “Well, that answers the question as to whether she can defend herself,” Theo mumbled to Rafe, who barely bit back a laugh.

  Thalia, looming over Mikkel with her hands on her hips, yelled, “I could have hurt myself, dickwad.”

  “Like you didn’t just hurt me?” he said on a moan, his hands firmly between his legs as he cupped himself. He fell forward, tipping over so his forehead was in the cool marble as he moaned and squeezed his legs around his hands.

  “You deserved it.” Just when she let out a grunt of satisfaction at having bested him, his hand snapped out. He grabbed her ankle, then swept her feet out from under her. She landed with a dull thwack and a howl of pain.

  Theo, cutting Rafe a look, sighed. “I think you’d best heal them both before they start a brawl.”

  Rafe’s lips curved as he nodded. Approaching his downed mates, he murmured, “Stop fighting. Healer in the house.”

  “Me first,” Mikkel growled then released a choked sound of agony that had Rafe wincing with sympathy. “I swear, if you want these to make babies, you have to treat them kinder, Thalia.”

  Thalia sniffed. “Why would I want babies from a sneaky cheater?”

  Even though he had to be in pain, Mi
kkel let out a laugh. “Don’t stop being a bitch, Thalia”

  Her lips twitched. “I don’t intend on it.”

  Rafe looked at her. Properly assessing her. “Do you need attending to first?”

  “I should make him suffer, but no,” she ceded. “I’m all right. See to the babymakers.”

  “That’s all I am to women. A walking cock.”

  “Otherwise known as dickhead,” she retorted to Mikkel’s whining.

  Theo, apparently having had enough of this child’s play, declared, “Children, have we ceased brawling?”

  Thalia grumbled, “I never started it.”

  “No, but you can end it,” Theo said suavely as he folded his arms across his chest, totally unimpressed by the scene before him. Rafe pressed a hand to Mikkel’s knee and sent out the healing waves that would take away the male’s ache.

  “Thank fuck for that,” Mikkel said on a low tone. “Thought you’d have to hold my balls to heal them.”

  Rafe snorted out a laugh. “I can, if you’d prefer?”

  Something flashed in Mikkel’s eyes, something Rafe didn’t particularly feel like decrypting at that precise moment.

  “No, it’s okay. I can cope with you feeling up my knee,” Mikkel said, a touch hoarsely.

  Theo, breaking into their conversation, asked, “Mikkel, do you have training in hand to hand combat or just with weapons?”

  Scowling up at the Fae male, Mikkel grunted, “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking!” Theo rolled his eyes.

  “Yes, Theodore. The United States Army doesn’t just send troops out with a gun and no basic training. And they sure as fuck don’t send out units of Special Forces without specialized training. Throw in the fact I headed the unit, I think I can handle myself in close quarters.”

  The disgust on his face had Rafe biting back a laugh.

  “Bigheaded much?” Thalia sniped.

  “Thalia,” Mikkel growled. “Don’t start.”

  Though she pouted, she remained silent. Her eyes were twinkling though.

  Little minx.

  Theo’s tone was curious as he asked, “What about you? You obviously have some training.”

 

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