8

Thalia

 

 

 

The minute she crossed the threshold, she was encompassed in a hug.

It was a hug that scented of lemon verbena, cinnamon, and sugar.

Her grandmother’s scent hadn’t changed in years, even if, when Thalia pulled back to kiss her cheeks, the woman had.

Faintly.

Rosa Lyndhoven, though she was approaching her second century, looked like she was in her forties. And she was hot, too. Even Thalia could admit that.

Her hair was curled up in a high chignon that took it off her face and bared cheekbones that Thalia had inherited. They were ice pick sharp and perfectly framed lips that were currently slick with ruby-red paint. Her eyes, a dark navy-blue, were decorated with thick, curly lashes that had beads of tears in them as she stared down at her granddaughter.

And her figure?

Well, if Thalia looked like her Nanna when she hit two hundred, her mates were going to be very lucky men.

“Oh, Nanna, I can’t believe I’m here. At last!” Her voice was hoarse with emotion, both excitement and fear, worry and wonder.

She was scared she was going to wake up, while feeling wondrous at the knowledge this was no dream.

This was happening.

Her grandmother’s arms were around her, her other grandfathers were close, and at her back, were her two mates.

Two.

Mates.

She’d been dying for them, on the inside, waiting for them, and they’d heeded her call almost instantaneously. Had appeared right when she needed them most.

She shuddered in Rosa’s arms and let herself be kissed on the cheeks once more.

“It’s wonderful to see you, my darling,” Rosa whispered, and having been in America for so long, she’d long since lost her Italian accent.

Even the faintest traces that Thalia could remember seemed to have disappeared, which sucked. Because Rosa had told the best bed-time stories—Thalia had the sweetest memories of her grandmother’s Italian-tinged voice recounting some of the Brothers Grimm fairytales.

“I love you, my darling,” she whispered fiercely, shifting her hands to cup Thalia’s face then anointing both cheeks with yet another kiss.

“Stop hogging the girl,” Matthew grumbled, making Thalia squeal as she leapt out of one set of arms into another welcoming pair.

Matthew squeezed her just as hard as Louis, and when Ade got his hands on her, she knew she was with the family who had always loved her.

Flaws and all.

Why her folks hadn’t just dumped her on her grandparents, she’d never know. Why keep her close, neglect her, when she could have been here? Safe, under the watchful eye of people who gave a damn about her, in whose best interests it was to keep her contained and secure?

Thalia knew she’d throw that on the list of things she’d never forgive her parents for, but it was already higher than a mountain, so there was no point in tossing more shit against it.

No amount of apologies would ever herald a halfway normal relationship between her and her parents. As sad as it was, it was also true. But she could cope with that as long as she had Rosa, Louis, Ade, and Matthew.

When the scent of cigar smoke clung to her as she sank back on a low divan, her family and its newest members—her mates—around her, she cocked a brow at Ade. “Since when did you smoke cigars?”

For a second, Ade’s mouth worked, then he glanced at Rosa who’d turned pink—like Thalia’s mother, she was only half-Lyken and therefore, had fewer powers, and her senses were weaker. “You promised me you’d stopped!” she barked.

“I did!” Ade winced. “I was at the golf club yesterday. You know everyone smokes there.”

Rosa’s nostrils flared. “You had better not be bullshitting me, Ade.”

He held up his hands. “On my honor.”

“Oops,” Thalia murmured softly.

Ade shot her a grumpy look. “Welcome back, Thalia,” he said drily.

“Don’t be blaming our nipotina for scenting you!” Rosa pinned her other mates with hard looks. “You should have told me.”

“There was nothing to tell,” Louis said easily. “Ade can’t help if his friends smoke around him.”

Rosa just sniffed, indicating she didn’t fully believe that story. Her nose popped into the air a second, then she let her gaze drift over Thalia once more, and the fight seemed to leach from her. “Dio, it’s good to have you home, Thalia.”

She couldn’t stop the smile from curving her lips, even as Rafe reached for her, his hand entwining with hers. Throw in the fact that Mikkel was sitting really close to her, his arm slung along the back of the sofa, bringing him in close proximity to her, Thalia wasn’t sure if she hadn’t just died and gone to heaven.

Their scent surrounded her on all sides, and Thalia had the unhappy realization that she was starting to understand her fathers.

She’d known Mikkel two days, Rafe less than two weeks, and already, she had killed for one of them . . . what would she do after two years? Twenty? A hundred?

Anything.

That was the truth of it.

She would die for these men, so why wouldn’t her fathers die for her bitch of a mother?

Gnawing at her bottom lip, Thalia watched as Louis started riling Mikkel who, characteristically enough, wasn’t taking it.

For a man who fought over battle lines, he was surprisingly chill. Or maybe it was because he was a man who fought over them? She wasn’t sure which made more sense if she was being honest.

“Who’d have thought you’d become one of us?” Louis murmured, but Thalia sensed by his tone he was pleased.

Something Rosa seemed to pick up on, too, for she snorted. “Look at you, strutting like a peacock. You’d think you were the Mother herself, bestowing mate bonds left, right, and center!”

Louis bristled at that. “If it weren’t for me, they might not have met for years.”

“If it weren’t for your meddling,” Rosa inserted drily. “Which, let me ask again, you did for what reason?”

“Well, I didn’t know she could kill a Beta in his prime, did I?” Louis groused, and his tone settled something deep inside Thalia. Where there had been a kernel of guilt and fear of rejection, it started to unfurl.

There were no recriminations here. Nothing but love and acceptance.

She wasn’t sure how her parents would react, had determinedly ignored any attempts of theirs to communicate with her thus far—a single attempt on board the jet on the flight over here was the most of it for now. But as they were here, with the old TriAlpha, would they try again?

Would they reprimand her? Chastise her for what she’d done?

She hoped not.

She really didn’t want to fight with them, not when, for the first time in her life, she felt happy.

Truly, insanely happy.

It was such an odd sensation. So fulfilling and warming and . . . she had to admit, strange.

Thalia knew she could get to like it, and that frightened her.

“I saw the footage,” Rosa countered her grandfather’s grumble. “She can more than handle herself.” Her grandmother beamed at her. “You did us all proud, darling.”

Rafe laughed a little. “She certainly did.”

Thalia cut him a look, wondering why he’d laughed, but when his hand squeezed hers, she stopped questioning, and just decided to relax.

This was her family, and they were a damn sight nicer than his.

While his sisters had visited with them today, and though they weren’t as mean as Carlos, Thalia hadn’t particularly liked them. Something Rafe seemed to concur with.

Only Laura had made a real effort to get to know her, while the others just blinked at her in awe. Not seeing her as anything other than the TriAlpha’s daughter. Just like their father, and totally unlike their mother. Yesterday, Sara had opened up to Thalia and Mikkel where the others most definitely hadn’t. They hadn’t even tried today. Not really.

“What does this role as Triskele mean?” Rosa asked, but she didn’t focus it on anyone other than Thalia.

Her grandfathers fell silent, letting her answer for herself. “It’s a Royal Enforcer, Nanna. The TriAlpha send the Triskele out as a trouble-shooter, I suppose. We sort out the problems they can’t handle from afar.”

“Does this mean you will be challenging more Betas and the like?”

“Maybe even Alphas,” Thalia replied, and knew not to be offended when Rosa winced. “I’ll be fine, Nanna.”

“I saw you, Thalia. I have no doubt of that, but I still fear for you.”

“Well, with my mates at my side, you won’t have to.” With her free hand, she trailed her fingers over Rafe’s wrist. “Rafe’s a healer.”

Louis’ head cocked to the side. “That’s unusual, isn’t it?” His nostrils flared subtly, scenting Rafe’s rank. She didn’t have to read his mind to know that was what he was doing.

“For a Gamma?” Thalia cocked a brow at him. “Rafe isn’t a Gamma, grandfather. Surely you can tell that.”

Ade cleared his throat. “Truth be told, Thalia, I’m not sure what the hell he is.” His nostrils flickered, too, but he wasn’t subtle about it as he tried to discern what her mate’s rank was.

“Does it matter?” she asked crossly. “Trust me, he isn’t Gamma, and whatever he is, he’s mine.”

Rafe chuckled, and she sensed he wasn’t offended, but that didn’t stop her feeling it on his behalf. “It’s okay, Thalia.”

“No. It isn’t. You might once have been that, but now, you’re my rank. Isn’t that right, Grandpa?” she demanded, looking at Matthew who was the politician of the bunch. Ade was the artist, Louis the strategist, and Matthew had a handle on all the politics, as well as a general working expertise on their history.

“She’s right. They’re both Alpha now, whatever their ranks were. The joys of mating a Royal Alpha female.” He rubbed his chin. “Of course, it’s unprecedented, but whatever Thalia does, it’s unprecedented.”

She giggled at his wry tone. “I’m still full of surprises, Grandpa.”

He winked at her as he curled an arm around his mate’s shoulder. Rosa sighed and sank back into his hold. “I have no doubt about that,” he told her drily, bussing his mate’s forehead.

She studied them, read the closeness the four shared and knew she wanted that.

They were seated on a divan like the one she, Rafe, and Mikkel were using, but they were as close as could be. Of course, the brothers’ touches were platonic, but they, too, touched. Connected. Like the pack they were. A pack within a larger pack. . . .

She’d have that, and she suddenly realized how lucky she was. Three men who would be linked to her in ways that few would ever be able to understand. Few save the family opposite her.

This would always, she recognized, be a haven for them, and she vowed that no matter where her new position as Triskele took her, this would be their base. The only way she’d return to her fathers’ seat was when she had given birth to a child that would usurp their right to the throne.

Only when she was in a position of power would she go back to that hellish palace, a place that had never been a home but her prison.

A breath shuddered from her, and Rafe, seeming to sense it, settled closer to her. He didn’t stop until his thigh brushed hers, and his hand moved from hers to come rest on her bare knee which was exposed in a pair of tailored shorts.

“You look tired, darling.”

Thalia blinked at her grandmother. “I do?”

Rosa nodded. “Would you like me to show you to your quarters?” Her nose wrinkled. “Of course, you can change them however you wish. They’re decorated for a much younger girl I fear, and though Ade and I spoke about changing them, we thought it best if you decide how you’d want your rooms to be.”

Thalia whispered, “You have a room for me?”

Louis snorted. “Don’t be daft, lass. ‘Course we do.”

Rosa nudged him with her knee. “Wherever we live, there’s always a room for you, darling. But now you’re mated, we’ll have to change the suite.” She lifted a hand and tapped her chin. “Ade, what do you think about knocking down the south wall to make the bedroom bigger?”

Before her grandfather could reply, Rafe inserted quickly, “But that’s not necessary.”

“I doubt you’ve shared a room with three other people—on a permanent basis, anyway,” Louis told him wryly. “Space is at a premium. You’ll need it. Trust us on that.”

Thalia laughed. “If you don’t mind knocking walls down?”

“Of course, we don’t. I wouldn’t have suggested it if we did.”

“The south and west wall can come down. They’re not load-bearing walls,” Ade murmured, his tone vague with what Thalia recognized as one of those moments where he disappeared into his head. He was an artist at heart, and being TriAlpha had been hardest for him her Nanna had told her once.

Rosa had also said that she’d been grateful for Thalia’s swift birth after her parents’ mating because it freed Ade from the TriAlpha reign and meant he could finally do what he wanted with his life—pursue his creative talents. Ade, in his many years, had studied architecture as well as the history of art, and had a reputation as one of the best restorers of Renaissance paintings under a pseudonym.

“You don’t really need to go to such lengths.” It was Mikkel’s turn to speak, and he sat up, the leather of the divan creaking with his change in weight.

She didn’t complain because it brought him nearer to her. She could scent petrichor—an unusual scent for a human. She’d have expected it more on Rafe, considering his Wolf, but on Mikkel? The scent of freshly tilled earth ravaged by the rain was a pungent aroma that had something deep in her core unfurling in response.

Not comfortable with the idea of getting horny in front of her grandparents—a quartet who were all quite capable of discerning what her change in scent meant—she cleared her throat. “Grandmother and Grandpa will do what they want without us barging in,” she remarked easily. “But, for the moment, you’re right, Nanna. I would like to get some rest.”

Louis eyed her. “You injured?”

Though Rafe had been prodding and poking her since the Challenge, prodding and poking she’d allowed without complaint, she winced. “Maybe.”

Rafe stiffened. “Where?”

“It’s nothing,” she replied instantly. “Just a headache.”

He immediately scowled at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because there’s no point. What can you do for a headache?”

His sigh said he knew she was right, but that he wasn’t happy about it.

Drugs like Ibuprofen didn’t work on their kind. Their bodies processed medication far too swiftly for it to ever take effect. Which, for the most part, was just annoying. Especially for a man like Rafe, whose need to heal was an intrinsic aspect to his nature. Lykens only reacted to hardcore chemicals—morphine was a little too much to ask for for a headache. 

She let her fingers trace over the strong bones of his knuckles. “I’ll be fine. Just . . . the flying didn’t help.”

Louis narrowed his eyes. “The footage I saw didn’t show you being injured.”

Thalia shrugged. “I wasn’t too bad.”

“It looked like you were and then, you weren’t,” Matthew murmured, his tone had an edge of caution to it.

“I told you, Rafe’s a healer.”

Her blunt reply had her grandfathers shuffling in place. Only Louis replied, though, “He healed you from a distance?”

“Trust me, it comes as much of a surprise to you as it does to me,” Rafe said drily.

“It’s never happened before?”

“No. I’m a human and Lyken healer. But you know they’re practically one and the same. Lyken healers aren’t exactly Shaman. We can’t spiritually heal. But with Thalia, that day. . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t really know what happened.”

Louis cut looks at his brothers then murmured, “This is very positive considering Thalia’s new role.”

“Why you’d want to be Triskele is beyond me,” Ade said on a sigh.

“Because it needs to be done. Because people like Jason Torres are out and about and they’re flourishing in the pack, Grandpa,” Thalia said crossly. “You can’t think that’s right?”

“I don’t necessarily think it’s right or wrong. It’s survival of the fittest, isn’t it? Our most basic of natural laws.”

Beside her, Rafe stiffened. “I’d like to disagree with that statement, your highness.”

Ade snorted. “I’m Ade, son. Thank the gods for that. My boys answer to that now.”

“Well, Ade,” Rafe started, after clearing his throat. Twice. “I’m a specialist. My specialty is cardiothoracic surgery. I’m at the peak of my game in the human world. Torres was a carpenter. Not a very good one at that, either. He was mostly unemployed until he hit rank, and the pack realized it didn’t look good for a Beta to be unemployed, so he started teaching at the community center.

“Perhaps I don’t fit my rank with strength, but with mental acuity?” He shook his head. “I’m one of the best surgeons in the United States, sir. You can’t discount me as being weak.”

Ade studied him as he propped his chin on his fist. “No. You’re right. I can’t. But there are always exceptions to the rules.”

“How many exceptions? How many rules?” Thalia demanded, arching her brow. “Jason Torres was not only terrible as a Pack Beta, he was abusive. And that was allowed to continue because it was against the lowest of our ranks. Just because he could, didn’t mean he should. And it certainly didn’t mean he shouldn’t have been controlled!”

“Thalia’s right,” Rosa said, her tone definite. “Whether or not survival of the fittest is right and true, Torres was bad blood, and because of his ranking in our society, he was allowed to get away with unspeakable acts.”

“You’ve no idea, Rosa, just how unspeakable those acts were.” Rafe clenched his teeth.

“Rafe healed a lot of the females who’d been singled out by Torres,” Thalia said flatly.

“Assaulted, beaten . . . that seem like survival of the fittest?” Mikkel inserted, his tone brittle. “I know for a fact, I didn’t fight for a country that allows that kind of shit to carry on. If Thalia can nip that kind of crap in the bud, then she has my backing.”

Thalia turned her head to stare at her second mate who, until now, had been relatively quiet. Pride was etched into the lines on his face, and his hand came up to cup her shoulder, which he squeezed before letting his fingers fall down her arm. He rubbed it slightly, warming her from the inside out.

“Thank you,” she said on a low whisper, surprised at his defense when he’d seemed annoyed earlier by her position. He’d been the one who’d said he hadn’t signed up to watch her fight her kind from the stands, after all.

But he seemed to dismiss that with a shake of his head. “No need to thank me. I have your back.”

“What are you going to do, though, child?” Ade asked softly. “Challenge every bad boy in the pack?”

She shrugged. “Yes.”

“You can’t. That’s not possible,” Matthew spoke up.

“I can. Indubitably,” she countered immediately. “And why not? I’ll do it until the pack realizes there is a higher voice of authority that they must answer to.

“The national pack is getting bigger. It’s certainly not getting smaller. It seems like we’re the only species who isn’t suffering with reproductive issues. . . . My fathers can’t be expected to rule so many people without help.” Thalia reached up and began to coil a lock of hair around her finger.

“Isn’t that what the government is for?”

“Yeah, but they’re all a bunch of ass-lickers. You know that.”

Ade snorted. “The girl isn’t wrong.”

“The council is useless. They’re all up in their own heads, and don’t give a shit about the day to day running of the pack. There isn’t enough protocol in place to protect our larger numbers.”

Louis ran a hand over his chin. “Why do you think that is?”

“What?” she asked, blinking at her grandfather. “In particular, I mean.”

“Why do you think our numbers are flourishing?”

Thalia frowned. “I don’t know. There hasn’t been enough research on the subject. Plus, as we’re the dominant Shifter species, no other breed is going to feel at ease discussing that kind of thing with us. Even if it’s to their benefit.

“We pose too much of a threat to them.”

“Lions and Tigers are definitely down,” Matthew concurred, “I know that because Mike at the Country Club was telling me the other day. He said his granddaughter’s been mated for twenty years and hasn’t spawned a single kit.”

Thalia winced. “That’s sad.”

“Very.”

“My mother ‘spawned’ pups pretty much the minute she was mated,” Mikkel interrupted tensely.

“Exactly. We do. The TriAlpha aren’t sitting as long on their seat because of it, too. As soon as they meet their mates, they pop out pups pretty much immediately.”

Louis snorted. “Pop out pups. You always were an insolent whelp.”

She beamed a grin at him. “Takes one to know one.”

Matthew laughed. “She has you there, Louis.”

Though he rolled his eyes, Louis remarked, “I wonder how long it will be before you meet your third, and if the Fates will wait for that meeting before you can get with child.”

Discomfort weighed heavily on her a second. “I hope it’s later rather than sooner,” she admitted. “I have no desire to take my fathers’ seat just yet.”

“No? I thought you’d have preferred that. Why mete out justice as Triskele, when you can change the world as TriAlpha?”

Ade’s question had her flinching. “Because, no matter how much I face it, my absence will not have softened the public’s opinion of me. They know the TriAlpha contained me, but they don’t know why. They’re not going to trust me until they see more of me.”

For a second, silence fell, then Louis cackled. “How very shrewd of you, my darling girl.”

Thalia blushed. “I didn’t take the role of Triskele as a PR move, grandfather,” she said on a huff.

“No, I can imagine that. You’re far too idealistic for that. However, I’m not. If you wanted a better way to have the pack introduced to you, you couldn’t have found it.”

Ade snorted. “You’re saying that like being Triskele is a good thing. It might be for the weaker ranks, but the higher ones?”  He shook his head. “She’s not going to be popular with everyone.”

“I know, so it’s a good thing popularity has never mattered all that much to me.”

She caught Ade’s eye, held it. What he saw when he looked at her, she wasn’t sure, but after a good thirty seconds, he nodded.

Rosa, apparently taking that as a cue, got to her feet. “Come, darling. Let me show you your quarters. You need rest.” She turned to Rafe and Mikkel. “Although, you’re more than welcome to stay here, if you’d like?”

Mikkel and Rafe looked at each other, and she tilted around, so she could shoot each of them a glance. “You’re more than welcome to. I just want to nap.”

Rafe shook his head. “No. I want to be with you.”

Mikkel let out a deep breath, and as though the words were dragged from him—and knowing him, they probably were—gritted out, “Me, too.”

Rosa hummed under her breath. “It’s a delight to see the mate bond starting to form.” She clapped her hands together in delight. “Wonderful. Now, come.”

Thalia took a few steps over to the other divan where her grandfathers were still seated. She bent down and bussed them each on the cheek. Only Ade stopped her. His hand came out to grab hers as he looked at her once more, their gazes holding as he murmured, “I only want you to be happy, darling.”

Her smile was warm, genuine. Just as his words were. “I know. And I will be.”

Ade sighed, squeezed her fingers. “I understand.” And she knew he did. Of them all, he’d been the one to hate the position forced on him by birth. He was just trying to make sure she was making these decisions for the right reasons.

How could she complain when his desire to protect her, to shield her, came from the heart?

She righted herself and saw that Mikkel and Rafe were standing over by another door, not the one they’d entered through, with Rosa. Thalia stepped over to them, leaving her grandfathers to converse as she moved away.

Opening the door, Rosa passed through, her own mates following, just as Thalia heard Louis murmur, “Did you hear about that politician this morning?”

She wasn’t sure why, but the question had her tensing. She stayed put as Ade asked, “The Republican?”

“She deserved it. That law she wanted to push was an atrocity.”

Louis snorted at Matthew’s retort—it was uncharacteristically bloody for her politician grandparent. “Hardly. It was business.”

“The current administration is considering business far too much over the environment. I’m all for making a dollar, it’s the American way, after all, but if we don’t do something soon, we’re going to destroy the only place we lay our heads.

“That law Jessica Hinderwald wanted to pass through was not only going to open the Arctic Wildlife Reserve for oil drilling but countless other national parks, too. Nothing else could scream abomination louder than that.”

“She was mauled,” Ade inserted, his tone less heated than his brothers’. “I was reading about it in the papers before Thalia came in. Nobody deserves that. She’d have passed in agony.”

“Mauled?” She turned on her heel, ignoring the looks Rosa and her mates shot her way—they were down the corridor whereas she hadn’t taken a single step.

Louis turned around. “Thought you’d gone with your grandmother.”

“I heard what you said. It pricked my curiosity.”

Ade snorted again. “Always was curious. Not sure if it’s a gift or a flaw.”

“Let’s consider it a gift at the moment,” she said drily, stepping toward them once more even as she rubbed her temple. “What was the politician mauled by?”

“Guess.”

Louis’ flat statement had her wincing. “Wolf?”

“Aye.” He tapped his fingers on the armrest of the divan. The leather gave a pleasing echo. “Handy, no?”

“You think it’s one of our kind?”

“Course. Has to be. She lived in DC. Not like wolves frequent the area for afternoon tea, is it?” he said on a huff.

“I’ve not heard any of this,” she countered immediately.

“It only happened yesterday evening.” Matthew shrugged. “You were busy.”

She pursed her lips, it irked her that she was out of the loop. One thing that hadn’t been limited to her during her exile was information.

She’d had no personal freedom, but the freedom to learn more about the world, both its past, present, and potential future, had been open to her in the form of papers and books, the TriAlpha library was one of the largest collections on Lykenkind the world over.

She’d absorbed all she could about both Lyken and human policies. After all, the humans were piddling little creatures, but they had the numbers. . . . They were a danger to her people, and a leader who didn’t take that into consideration was a fool.

“What’s wrong, Thalia?” Rafe asked, having returned to the sitting room for her.

Turning back to him, she murmured, “Nothing. Just something my grandfathers are talking about piqued my interest.”

He held out his hand. “You need to rest. That conversation can wait, can’t it?”

Though she knew he was right, something told her he was also wrong. . . . These kinds of situations had a habit of flaring up. One small situation, seemingly irrelevant to the rest of society, could be the trigger for war.

But, she had to admit, his hand, hovering there, waiting for her, stirred something inside her.

People cared about her again. It was a heady realization. No longer was she alone. If she had a headache, family worried. . . .

Her throat felt tight, and she took a step toward him, the link between them pulling at his need to tend to her. “We’ll talk about this later, grandfathers,” she stated, her tone close to a warning.

Louis chuckled. “Whatever you want, love.”

As she stepped out of the door, Matthew snorted. “She’s a bossy miss.”

Louis clapped his hands together. “Exactly what we need to stir shit up.”

Despite herself, despite the ache in her head, she had to smile. Her grandfathers were an unusual trio, and she said that having been spawned by three equally as unusual males.

It was, she thought on a sigh, her hand enveloped by Rafe’s, good to be home.