4

Mikkel

 

 

 

Mikkel eyed the couple hovering behind Rafe with curiosity. Mostly because Rafe looked nervous, not happy. In fact, he looked decidedly unhappy to see his folks.

While Mikkel’s mother was a pain in his ass, and his stepdad was pretty cool even if he did spend most of his time with his nose in a book, he loved his parents. They were accepting and generous where their children were concerned, and in his opinion, that was the best kind of recommendation a son could give.

From the way Rafe was standing, tension singing through his veins like he was being shot with bursts of electricity, Thalia’s mate couldn’t say the same thing about his family.

Rubbing his chin, he watched as Rafe walked into the kitchen, the couple at his back. With a formality that surprised Mikkel, Rafe turned to the side and waved open his arm.

“Mother, Father, this is Thalia Lyndhoven, the Princess of the North American Pack and the Triskele.”

For a second, his parents just stood there, blinking, and then, Mikkel watched with nostrils flaring to hide his amusement as the woman dropped to her knees, and the father stiffly bent over in what he thought was supposed to be a bow—Betas weren’t used to bowing and scraping.

Thalia being Thalia immediately hopped down and held out her hands for the woman. “Please, there’s absolutely no need for. . . .” She was speechless a second, her mouth working as she tried to figure out exactly what this was. Seemed she couldn’t come up with much because she trailed off with, “Well, this.”

The older woman leaned into Thalia as she sat up. “You’re our Princess,” she breathed, awe in her voice, her eyes as she looked Thalia over.

“No. I’m your daughter-in-law,” the younger woman corrected, a gentle and kind smile gracing that sexy as sin mouth. “Please, there’s no need for any of us to stand on ceremony. We’re family, after all.”

The man, Rafe’s father, scowled, his gaze switching between his son and new daughter-in-law. Then, he shook his head and demanded, “I don’t understand.”

“What’s to understand, Carlos?” the older woman hissed, elbowing him in the side.

Carlos shrugged. “She’s Alpha. Rafe is anything but.”

Thalia’s mouth pursed, and Mikkel folded his arms across his chest, preparing himself for a firework show.

“Rafe is my mate. If you have any doubts about that—”

“Carlos, cállate!” Rafe’s mother hissed when Carlos made to speak.

“No, mother, it’s okay. Father always needs to speak his mind, otherwise he poisons the air around him until he can.”

Carlos’s eyes narrowed. “Think you’re brave now you’ve got the Triskele for your mate? Hiding behind a woman’s skirts. First your mother’s, then Laura’s. . . .” He snorted. “Haven’t changed, have you, boy?”

Rafe laughed, but his dark eyes burned. “I’ve changed, father. It’s you who hasn’t. And yes, Thalia killed a Beta last night. One thirty years younger than you. What do you think she could do to you?”

Both women gasped.

“Rafe, I’m not going to do anything to your father!” Thalia mumbled hurriedly, her cheeks turning pink at the idea . . . almost like Rafe had suggested she do a striptease. Not as though he’d just suggested she take someone’s life.

“Rafe! Don’t speak to your father that way,” his mother whispered, her horrified glance switching between her son and husband, throwing in a fearful look Thalia’s way every few seconds.

“No, mother. If he can talk to me that way, I figure it’s time I started talking back, because yes, I do have a strong and powerful mate who will protect me from my big, bad, Beta of a father.”

Carlos’s jaw tightened. “Like I said, hiding behind a woman’s skirts . . .” His upper lip curled in a sneer. “Disgraceful. But then, I expect nothing less from you. Your sisters have bigger cojones than you.”

Rafe narrowed his eyes. “Funny that. I expect nothing less than disapproval from you. We’ve officially proven it. I can bring a Princess into the family, and even that isn’t good enough.”

The truth of that flashed in Carlos’s eyes a second, then he cut his wife a glance before nodding his head at Thalia. “My apologies, ma’am, for arguing in front of you.”

She blinked. “I’m family. We’re family, it means we’ll argue.”

“We?” Rafe’s mother said.

“Yes. Mikkel is my second mate.”

“Sara, did I hear that right?”

Sara whispered to Carlos, “I think so.” She coughed. “Second mate?”

“I’m the TriAlpha’s daughter. . . .” Thalia cocked a brow at her. “Why wouldn’t I have three mates?” She said it like it was as simple as pairing bread with butter, and red meat with red wine. Like it made complete sense. And yet, he knew that until a few weeks ago, nobody had realized that was the plan the Mother had for her and her males.

Sara’s brow wrinkled. “Oh.”

“Yes. Mikkel is Thalia’s second mate.”

“When did you meet her, Rafe?” Carlos asked, his voice rusty, Mikkel thought, from shock.

“Recently,” was all his son said.

“When did she meet Mikkel?”

“Recently,” Thalia murmured.

Snorting, Mikkel let them draft this conversation for themselves. He didn’t need to get involved. He guessed, in a roundabout way, they were his family now. But, fuck, that meant having to fully indulge this screwed up notion that he was Thalia’s second mate, and he just hadn’t had enough coffee for thoughts like that this early.

Grumbling inwardly, even as he knew there was no reason for any of them to lie about this shit, and that he had felt the pull of a bond linking all three of them—not just him to Thalia—together, he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the tall bank of cupboards that had the sleek glassy front of an oven at shoulder height. The cold glass was pleasant against his back, and he let the chill sink into him as the four people opposite him grew more and more flustered.

“What’s so complicated?” he asked, unable to help himself from interrupting.

The four looked over at him, Thalia with exasperation, Rafe blankly, but Carlos and Sara were just plain confused.

“What’s so complicated is that we have one mate,” Carlos gritted out. “Certainly not two or three. What’s more, a female Alpha and a male Gamma don’t go together. Neither does a human get thrown into the mix.” When his nostrils flared, Mikkel knew he was scenting out the area.

Narrowing his eyes at the man, he murmured, “Watch yourself, Carlos. Thalia isn’t the only one who isn’t afraid to fight here.”

The older man stiffened, his jowls jiggling in outrage. Sara let out a little squeak. “Mijo! What’s happening here?”

“Mikkel’s right, mother. This really doesn’t have to be so complicated. I’m mated to Thalia, as is he, and there is a third one we’re waiting to meet.”

“But your father’s right. We don’t have more than one mate.”

“Apparently, Thalia does. The bond is live between us.” He balled his hand into a fist and smacked it against his chest. “I can feel it. It’s like electricity sparking.”

Sara’s mouth worked. “I’m confused.” She rubbed her forehead and shot Thalia an apologetic glance. “My apologies, your majesty.”

“You don’t have to call me that, Sara,” Thalia said softly, reaching over to pat her mother-in-law on the shoulder. “Truly. All will be well.”

“How can it be well when this . . .?” Carlos’s mouth curled up in a sneer. “When you’re involved in a relationship that can only be classified as an abomination?”

Thalia let out a laugh, surprising everyone in the room—even Mikkel. “Why, Rafe, you should have told me your father was a bigot.”

Sara’s eyes grew huge—they were so big, the white around her irises were clearly visible as she gulped and looked at her mate.

Carlos’s jaw clenched. “I’m not a bigot.”

“No? Sounds like you are to me,” Thalia chirped, her tone cheerful. Then, she lifted a hand and tapped her chin. “I realize this might not be ideal for you, but it’s ideal for me and my mates. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?” She beamed at them. “If you don’t like it, then you know where the door is.”

Carlos’s hands morphed into fists. “This isn’t right.”

“Isn’t it? Do you also disagree with the fact I’m Triskele? After all, I have tits, and therefore should stay at home? Did you even see the challenge yesterday?”

At her warning, Sara gulped, but Carlos paled. “Yes. I saw.”

“We both saw,” Sara whispered. “You were magnificent.”

Thalia, funnily enough, didn’t blush at that, merely bowed her head, graciously accepting the compliment. “I appreciate that, Sara.”

Carlos shook his head. “You had no place in the challenge ring.”

“Didn’t I?” She shot her father-in-law a toothy smile. “Would you like to face me there, Carlos? Show me how I’m the little woman?”

Carlos reared back, apparently feeling the threat in the air. Hell, Mikkel didn’t have the instincts Lykens did, and even he sensed it. Thalia had just done something. Something that had the weaker Lykens in the room responding like they’d just been burned.

Well, everyone save Rafe.

Shit, Thalia was right. Rafe’s rank was beyond fucked up.

Swiftly declaring, “Sara, we’re going,” Carlos made to leave.

“Oh, so soon?” Thalia retorted. Then, to her new mother-in-law, she murmured, “He can go, but you really don’t have to. I’d love to get to know you.”

Mikkel cut Rafe a look, and saw he was both nervous and amused by how Thalia was dividing, and seemingly intent on conquering, both his parents.

“Yes, mama. There’s no need for you to go.”

Sara licked her lips, and shot Carlos a look. “I’ll see you back at the house. I want to get to know my daughter-in-law.”

Carlos squinted at her. “Sara! Come!”

“She’s not a dog.”

“No, she’s a wolf.” Mikkel made an audible biting noise. “All the better to eat you with.”

A laugh escaped Sara, and she slapped her hand against her mouth to quench it as she gaped at him. He grinned at her, enjoying her amusement at his mocking of her spouse.

“Go away, Carlos, I’m rather bored with you,” Thalia dismissed, shooing him away with all the grace of the royal she was.

Though his eyes flared with rage, Carlos turned on his heel and stormed off. The silence he left behind didn’t last long, but it throbbed with emotion. Both on Sara and Rafe’s parts. Thalia, surprisingly enough, wasn’t affected.

Rafe let out a shaky breath before he whispered, “Will he make you pay for that, mama?”

Sara’s chin jerked up. “He knows not to beat me anymore, mijo.”

Thalia’s eyes widened. “He beats you?” She’d been in the process of leaping up onto the counter stool, but at their interaction, she jumped down again. Her teeth bared as she gritted out, “Do you want me to hand you his balls, Sara?”

The older woman snorted. “No, dear. It’s fine. He doesn’t anymore. He knows I’ll make him pay in other ways.”

Thalia tilted her head to the side. “How?”

“Too much salt in his food. . . .”

Rafe sighed. “I remember that.”

“Remember what?” Thalia cast him a look.

“Mama put salt in everything. His water, his beer. She started slowly at first, then the portions grew and grew until he was drinking more and more the thirstier he got. He had to go to the healer.”

“You were poisoning him with salt?” Thalia gaped at her, then she spluttered, “It’s certainly ingenious.”

“It took a while for him to figure it out, too. Carlos is a stubborn man, and he refuses to see the healer.” She grinned—her pride as evident as a four-year-old who’d finally figured out how to use the potty. “Since he found out, he has been careful around me.”

“I can see why he’d need to be,” Mikkel inserted with a laugh. Jesus. Who poisoned someone with salt? Either someone very cunning or very desperate, he figured. Mikkel wasn’t sure which, and also wasn’t sure if he wanted to know period.

Rafe cleared his throat. “We won’t be in Austin for long, mama. We’re going to Florida soon. We’re only staying to meet with you and the Alpha.”

But Sara was shaking her head. “That’s fine. But I wouldn’t advise you meet with the Alpha. Or, if you do, I’d wait. He’s been challenged already.”

Rafe whistled. “They didn’t waste any time.”

“We have four top ranking Alphas in the Pack,” Sara explained to Thalia and Mikkel. “Some would be ripe for heading to State or National Pack, but the Summerford’s Alpha doesn’t see fit to use them. He just keeps them close by where he thinks he can keep an eye on them. Foolish man. He should have sent them off, let them burn off some of their machismo.”

Thalia grinned a little. “That’s a unique way of looking at it. Not every Alpha is meant for politics.”

“No, true, but these are. They’re young, and had he trained them instead of wasting them, they wouldn’t be a problem now.”

Thalia nodded. “I understand. It’s an old school way of dealing with rivals.”

“The idiot deserves to be challenged.”

“Mama!” Rafe argued, but Sara just grinned then leaned over and patted his cheek.

“Fear not, Raphael. I can sense your mate is as bloodthirsty as I am.”

Thalia bit back a smile. “I sense a compliment or thereabouts.”

Sara’s grin seemed to widen. “Oh, it most definitely is.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, I think it’s time for something to eat. Have you had breakfast?”

And that was how Mikkel ended up having homemade empanadas for breakfast by the woman who was, technically, his mother-in-law.

How the hell it happened, he wasn’t entirely sure. One thing he knew was . . . Sara made damn good grub. 

** **

Raphael

 

When she left the house, Rafe watched his mother climb the drive’s slight incline to the roadside. There was a taxi waiting at the curb for her, and she slipped in, as spry as she’d been when he’d been just a boy.

There was the joy in living as long as they did—their parents were around much longer than most humans were granted. He’d have his mother around for another fifty years or more if he was lucky . . . or if she didn’t kill his father, or vice versa, in the interim.

At his back, he felt warmth. Expecting Thalia, he turned around but as he shifted his head, he saw Mikkel was there.

“Interesting woman.”

Rafe blinked. “Thank you. I think.”

“Interesting is a compliment,” Mikkel explained. “Not many women would think to punish their husbands by poisoning them with salt.”

“No.” Sheepishly, he rubbed his chin. “I live with the knowledge that one day, they may kill one another.”

Mikkel pursed his lips. “I can see why you’d have that fear.”

That had him blowing out a shaky breath. “Shit, I don’t want to be right.”

“We never do,” he immediately countered with a shrug. “I’d put bets on your mother winning. Your father might have brawn, but she has brain.”

“That she does,” Rafe said with a short laugh.

“How old were you when she used the salt on him?”

“About twelve. I can distinctly remember watching her putting salt in everything he touched. Then, she would raise her hand, press her finger to her lips, and shush me. ‘Our secret,’ she’d say. Like she was giving him a gift. But I knew, even then, what she was doing was bad.”

“And you didn’t warn your father?”

The question came from Thalia. She slipped against him, her arm coming around his waist as she nuzzled into him. He tried not to think about how right it felt to have the two of them close. Yes, having Mikkel close, too. It was good. Strangely empowering. Fulfilling, too. Like, with them nearby, all was right with the world.

“No. I didn’t,” he answered after a few seconds, when he realized he’d fallen silent as his mother’s taxi had headed down the road for the subdivision’s gated exit.

“Why not?”

“You’ve met the man, Thalia,” Mikkel inserted drily. “Wouldn’t you want to poison him if you’d lived with him for twelve years straight?”

She winced. “Not all children hate their parents, Mikkel.”

“No. I’m one of them. Seems like you two are the ones with parent problems. Not me.”

Thalia turned back to glower at him, but Rafe squeezed the hand she had curved around his waist. “No, it’s okay. He’s right. My father is a prick. There’s nothing else to be said about that.”

“He’s always been that way?”

“Always.”

“Wow.” Mikkel blew out a breath. “That must have been fun.”

Rafe let out a cold laugh. “You’ve no idea. I could do nothing right. And I mean nothing.”

“I know how that feels, sweetheart,” Thalia whispered, drowning him in the empathy she felt for him. For a second, he bathed in it, in the sweet sense of belonging that slipped between them.

“I know you do.”

“Did he beat you, too?” Mikkel asked, and though his questions were invasive, they didn’t feel out of place. He was as big a part of this as Thalia, after all. . . . Whether he was accepting of that was another matter entirely.

“Yes.”

Thalia sucked in a shaky breath. “I really want to challenge him now.”

He snorted. “Don’t bother. We have bigger fish to fry.”

When he turned to look at her, she was gnawing at her bottom lip. He reached up, pulled it free, and she whispered, “Are you sure? I’ll gladly make him pay.”

“I know you would,” he told her softly. “But that’s not necessary. Mother will sort it out.”

She blinked. “You’re okay with her poisoning him?”

A laugh barked from him. “Okay isn’t exactly how I’d phrase it, Thalia. But she’ll do what she’s going to do. It won’t kill him. Just make him miserable.”

“This has to be the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had. And I’ve just found out that I’m mated to a woman who has three mates!”

Thalia peeked back at him. “So, you’re admitting it’s a real thing now?”

Mikkel glowered at her. “Maybe.”

She beamed at him, and the smile was that of a parent, bestowing delight upon a clever child. If she patted his cheek, Rafe felt sure Mikkel would explode. But she didn’t, instead, she turned to Rafe and said, “Mikkel isn’t wrong. It is a pretty bizarre conversation.”

He shrugged. “Story of my life.”