Thalia shook her head. “Theo, you’re under the impression that we believe you did the wrong thing. I know I’m speaking for everyone here when I say that isn’t the truth. Colluding with Morningstar was totally the wrong thing to do.”
“Brian loved me,” Theo said sadly.
“I’m sure he did. You’re a very lovable man,” she replied, her voice soft. Theo turned to look at her, and she jerked her chin down. “Yes. I love you too.”
“You don’t know me. Not all of me.” His words were hoarse with longing.
“Maybe not. But I know when I whooped your butt in the sparring ring, you didn’t diss me. You didn’t try to make me pay for that, and you didn’t try to soothe your own ego. You cheered. You celebrated on my behalf. How could I not love a man, the best swordsman of this realm, who could put me before him?” She shook her head. “It would be impossible.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “You mean it?”
“I do.”
At her confirmation, he hauled her onto his lap and into his arms. Rafe watched, feeling slightly wooden at the sight. Not because he was jealous, but because he was still processing. And, as ever, there was so much to process.
He sucked in a shaky breath and while he knew he was intruding on a special moment, he had to ask, “Theo, what do the Dark Fae do?”
The Fae rubbed his nose along the side of Thalia’s jaw then, over her shoulder, looked at him and said, “They are the demons of the human faith. They tempt and trick. Sow the seeds of evil and tend to them, harvest them.”
“But what does that mean?”
“It means they do Vulcun’s bidding under Morningstar’s command.”
Mikkel shook his head. “And what does this have to do with this changeling shit?”
Despite his own mood, Rafe’s lips twitched at Mikkel’s phrasing. The man really did have a power over words.
“The Dark Fae sometimes impregnate females. It doesn’t happen often. In fact, it’s very rare, but it does, indeed, occur. The mother dies in childbirth and the Dark Fae parent dumps the child in a family. Just like the book says.”
Rafe’s tongue felt like a lead weight in his mouth as he tried to form the words to ask, “I’m one of them, aren’t I?”
Theo’s mouth pursed. “I think so. Yes.”
And like that, Rafe’s world tumbled into chaos.
****
Rafe
"I didn't expect to see you here."
Rafe jolted in surprise at the sound of his mate's voice. "Why not? I'm not a Lyken. There's no reason for them to dislike me, is there?"
Thalia grimaced. "I'm sorry, love."
He worked a crick out of his neck, but only succeeded in jamming it harder into place. The female Divelsian nuzzled into him, her nose comfortingly rubbing his chest—the beast was a flirt. And her mate? Jealous as hell.
"We need to name them," he said roughly, unable to reply to her.
"We do," she confirmed as she stepped closer. Her feet were shod in boots, for once, that weren't for fighting. They were riding boots, which meant she'd asked Theo to dress her for the occasion.
Cocking a brow at her, he asked, "You intend to take them out for a ride? And Theo isn't coming with you?"
"I told him I wouldn't ride. But he's pleased I want to see them."
"He is?" Rafe frowned, wondering why that would be.
"Remember, he said we need to link with them." She quirked a brow. "Seems like you've already done that." As she pressed a hesitant hand to the horse's long, strong neck. The creature whinnied, and nuzzled harder into Rafe. Her lips twitched. "I think she likes you."
"She likes all the males," Rafe said dismissively. "Try the male. Take his mind off the fact I have my hands on his woman. He keeps eyeing me like he wants to eat me."
Divelsians do not need to be named. Nor do we eat humans.
The voice was distinctly masculine, and at the sound of it, Thalia gasped, indicating that the creature had spoken to both of them.
What are you called then? he asked. Mikkel has already told me that you don't like to be called animal.
Would you? The male snorted and scraped his hoof against the cobbled floor of the stable he was in. Your female shares her soul with an animal. Would she like to be considered as nothing more than a beast?
"He has a point," Thalia murmured drily as she stepped over to the male.
The stables were large and, though the Divelsians shared a stand, they were also isolated from the other animals in here with two free stands on either side of them. Otherwise, the hundred-row stable was full, with none of the other creatures having wings, either.
Rafe had sought more Divelsians out the first time he'd visited, and had come up with nothing. He’d wanted a comparison between a ‘regular’ Divelsian and a mated pair, but had been left disappointed.
Well, as disappointed as a man could get when he owned a pair of flying, talking horses, he guessed.
This was, however, the only time the creatures had communicated with him since Isaura had handed them over as gifts.
Was that because Thalia was here?
Yes, the female said, her tone a whinny that messed with Rafe's head. How could a horse be talking to him?
It was like something out of the Muppets.
And yet, their voices, so unusual, and unlike a human's, were pleasant. They were almost like a song, actually. They made shivers spread down his spine, but not in an uncomfortable way like nails down a chalkboard. In a delightful way, like if Thalia stroked her hands through his hair or rubbed his shoulders.
It was unnerving to experience such a sensation because of a voice in his head.
Well, unnerving read creepy.
Mikkel was right.
So much about this realm was fucking creepy.
"Why?" he asked. "Why do you speak because Thalia is here?"
Because she is the conduit. She is the center of your bond, and she is to whom we direct our thoughts, and she transmits them to you.
The female nuzzled her nose into his shirt again, and he obeyed the silent command by stroking right between her ears.
Thalia was enduring a similar treatment from the male, but his head was between her breasts. "What are your names?"
Lysander and Helena.
Thalia let out a laugh that hurt Rafe's heart it was so beautiful. "Like from A Midsummer Night's dream?"
Aye. Our sire was one of the bard's horses.
For a second, Thalia and Rafe just gaped at each other, but she was the first one to blurt out, "Shakespeare was Fae?"
"Are you giving all our secrets away, naughty beasts?"
The voice was as musical as the horses', even though it was distinctly male.
Rafe turned and saw one of the stable hands in the doorway. He eyed Thalia in a way that made Rafe grit his teeth, and when he did it again, right in front of him and uncaring about it, Rafe released a snarl.
The male jolted back and raised his hands. "Sorry, sire. I just wanted to know if I could let them out for their ride?"
Rafe raised his chin. "Not yet." Helena nuzzled into him, imparting comfort, he thought. "I'll inform you when I'm ready to let them out."
The stable hand bustled back with red cheeks.
"I like you possessive," Thalia murmured gently, pressing her lips to Lysander's nose—something the horse just fucking loved.
The creature shot Rafe a smug look—and yes, Divelsians could apparently pull off smug—as he snorted into Thalia's tits again.
"I didn't like how he was eying you," was all he said, but his tone was gruff with his agitation.
"Neither did I." She pursed her lips as she kept her head turned Lysander's way. "Does your Wolf miss mine?"
That made him hesitate. "I'm not a Wolf."
"No," she countered slowly. "But something inside you is."
That was the most confusing aspect of the whole thing.
There was definitely a Wolf inside him. It raged and snarled and hated that
he couldn't approach Thalia's. But he wasn't Lyken.
He was changeling.
Lifting a hand, Rafe rubbed the back of his neck. He'd been confused ever since he'd found that chapter in the Other Beasts book, and he didn't know how to overcome it.
He felt Lyken, but then, he would, wouldn't he? He'd been dumped into a family of Lykens and had played the role for so long because he'd known no different.
Suddenly tired, he rested his forehead against Helena's. "Do you miss your She-Wolf?"
"Of course."
The answer was simple.
Given freely.
"I-I feared for you when you first awoke," he whispered. "I-I thought we might lose you to a different kind of hell."
"I think I'm grounded because I'm connected to you three," she replied, then she shrugged. "I have no other way to describe why I'm not a raving lunatic." Then, she asked, her tone teasing, "Would you prefer I were?"
He couldn't stop himself from snorting at that. "No. Of course not."
"Then, what’s the problem?"
How could he explain what didn't make all that much sense to him either?
Was it because he felt on the brink of madness?
In the space of three months in the human realm, he'd gone from the rank of a Gamma to being the mate of the Pack Princess. Then, from there, he’d come here. Rafe had been the mate of the Triskele, but now he was what? Demon spawn?
He’d never liked his father, but Gods help him, he preferred to be a Santiago than the alternative.
The stress of that combined with the fact he'd almost lost Thalia, and that she'd been robbed of her She-Wolf, was just too much.
The walls were closing in on him, and he…
All will be well, human, Helena told him, her tone a smooth rumble.
When Thalia moved over to him, curled into his side and murmured the same, he shook his head, unsure if anything would be 'well' ever again.
13
Theo
"What do you think you're playing at, Mother?"
Isaura's smile was pure feline. Theo, sighing at the sight of it, slumped in the chair on her dais that was his properly appointed seat in her throne room.
She was not at home to visitors today, especially not as she'd been the last time he'd visited her here with his triad of mates at his side. Instead, she was lounging on her throne, relaxed—he'd caught her before a meeting was due to start in a few hours and after one had just finished an hour ago.
He'd never understood why she liked it here. He probably never would.
The cavernous space wasn't exactly homey or cozy. It was anything but. Even when she used her glamor, as on days like today, to make it smaller—for the post-fated claiming, the room had been expanded for the celebrations—it was still far too large for his preferences.
Still, he wasn't his mother, and he'd never understand the way she worked.
Unlike the day of the festivities, the throne was in place. It was crafted from bone and silver. It was a relatively simple seat. Boxy but it was also ornately carved with feathers. That was the singular defining design. Those feathers made the throne look like one of their wings, because they were the true difference between a Fae of the light, one who followed the Mother's path, and a Fae of the dark, one who cast aside the Mother.
To Theo, whenever he'd seen Isaura lounging upon the seat which was three times her size, he'd always been grateful he'd never be the one sitting upon it. It looked damn uncomfortable; not that you'd tell that from the way Isaura used it.
"Why, darling, what do you mean?"
He snorted. "You know what I mean?"
She purred, "I beg to differ."
"A mated set of Divelsians?"
Her smile morphed into a smirk. "I thought they'd suit."
"A mated pair of Divelsians?" Could he help that his voice turned high pitch?
"Your little Fated is bound to appreciate them someday," she said dismissively, waving a lax hand as she reached for the golden chalice that was propped on the armrest.
He released an explosive noise that told her exactly what he thought about that.
"Why, Theodore, darling, you are well aware, as am I, that two of your mates have no wings." She sniffed. "I thought I was being rather helpful."
"Three, Mother. Three have no wings."
"Yes, but she has you, does she not? You will carry her around. As much as I could understand your wanting to lug that delicious brute and the sexy shifter on your back, three mates might be two too many to carry."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't try to brush this off. You and I both know that you gifted Thalia with those horses for no other reason than to make mischief." And he’d have told her sooner if she hadn’t been avoiding him.
She gasped and pressed her hand to her chest—her eyes, however, were dancing. "How could you imply such a thing, Theo?"
"Easily. I know you too well to think otherwise."
The Royal dais consisted of the throne, a smaller seat for Kane, and then seventeen chairs that were smaller still—one for each of Isaura’s children. Theo's was closer to Isaura because he was firstborn, and the second closest was the youngest. The chairs ran around the perimeter of the dais, and, inadvertently, showed the preference Isaura had for her offspring.
She didn't appear to like any of them save for the youngest and the eldest.
Why that was, Theodore couldn't say, but it had always been the way of it.
He used his proximity to punctuate his words as he prodded the air with his finger while declaring, "Mated Divelsians are gifts for an enemy."
She scoffed, "Hardly. They're priceless."
"Only because no one will set a price on them!" he immediately retorted.
Her sniff irritated the hell out of him. "I've never understood the prejudice against them. They're beautiful creatures, and, when battle stirs, for it always does with that pig, you can ride into battle with your mates. They can be useful for the kingdom." She pouted. "I thought you'd be pleased."
"You thought I'd be pleased that you'd figured out a way to commandeer my mates into the army?" He snorted. "Yes, Mother, I'm thrilled."
"They ought to be useful. They're part of the Royal line now," was her stubborn retort.
"Why not a set of Divelsians that aren't mated, for Mother's sake?" he snapped.
"Because these were my newest born. I had no others to give." She narrowed her eyes at him. "I do not appreciate being questioned like an enemy, child. Watch your words."
He glowered at her. "You couldn't just give her a tiara. Or some other gift that she might be able to use for the binding ceremony. But no. You had to give her a set of horses that are more of a liability than anything else!" His nostrils flared as he ground the words out, ticking each point off with his fingers, "They're headstrong, more likely to toss their owners than comply with their rider's wishes. The males are jealous of their females to the point of ridiculousness, and the females are outrageous flirts. Worse still, they can never be separated!"
For the first time, she ceased lounging, and mimicking his pose, she began to count with her fingers, "They're headstrong which means, in battle, they're incredibly powerful. They're not just a means of transport, they're a useful tool. Yes, the males are jealous of their females, but that's easily resolved when both creatures are linked to their owners. Once that happens, that loyalty shifts to their riders—which means, in a battle, they'll die to keep the male or female on their back safe.
"Yes, they're rebellious, but who wants a dumb animal? Why wouldn't you want a glorious creature that isn't yours to mindlessly control but one who will become a part of your unit? One who will add something to the unusual dynamic the four of you have?
"The Divelsians will enable you to become a team of fighters that are to be reckoned with instead of one to be mocked. In a realm where people fly," she spat, "your mates are a weakness. You, my child, were never weak. You will never be weak. And the fated mate you've been given was never intend
ed, by the Goddess, to make you appear it.
"I have rectified that with my gift," she stated with a final huff as she slumped back against the throne having said her peace.
Despite himself, he found that he was gaping at her. "You truly didn't mean it as a joke? Some kind of prank?"
She pursed her lips but her focus wasn't on him but the contents of her chalice. "No. Indeed, it was not. I may not like your Thalia. But that is only an impression. I barely know the girl. And I'm predisposed to dislike her anyway. You always were my favorite, Theodore, and you know this. Yet, the first time you come home in two centuries is for her. Not to see me. But for her.
"Yes, I'm aware this is the way of it with the fated. However, you didn't even think to visit me when you arrived."
"She was ill, Mother," he countered softly, guilt filling him.
"This I know now, but I didn't. Did I? Only your father stopped me from barging in sooner. He said there would be a legitimate reason for your not coming to us sooner, and he wasn't wrong. He even insisted I didn't use the birds to check up on you, and I resisted, until that final day and saw you were... well, it seemed you were having fun. So, while your reason for not coming to me makes sense now, it didn't then. And that doesn't mean..." She sucked in a breath and caught his gaze. "It doesn't mean I wasn't hurt by it."
Theo winced. "I'm sorry, Mother."
Her chin jerked up. "I'm sure you are. Now."
"No. If I'd realized, I would have been then. My... I didn't know what was happening with her. I wasn't sure if she was dying or she would live. You can understand my need to be with her, surely?"
"Of course."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. As the locks tumbled about his face, he whispered, "I still don't know how I saved her mother. I still don't know where her She-Wolf has gone. I feel a tremendous amount of guilt in knowing that I took her beast from her."
"You saved her life, child," Isaura countered gently. "Surely that makes up for it?"
"Would you wish to be wingless?"
That made her wince. "No. Indeed not."
"Well then..." His voice tapered off.
Triad (The TriAlpha Chronicles Book 3) Page 23
