Prime Selection

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Prime Selection Page 3

by Monette Michaels


  Wulf took the hand stroking his face in his and kissed her fingertips and traced her palm with his tongue. “Even though there is no direct threat in the room, I’m worried about your safety. The mood could change in a nanosecond. There are too many people here—most of whom I do not even like. Some of them would kill you without blinking an eye. My father’s insistence on these fetes is insane.”

  “I’m fine. We’re fine.” She rubbed his chest over the area where the mark that made him hers could be found, soothing him in a way unique to bonded Prime mates. “The parties are necessary for political reasons.”

  Her efforts weren’t working. “Stop growling. You’re giving me a headache—and scaring the natives.” She smiled at an Elder Council member who approached them. He eyed Wulf with fear and retreated.

  The older man had good instincts. If the poor man had said one wrong word, Wulf would’ve exploded. Her mate’s temper had been on an extremely short leash since her kidnapping two weeks ago.

  “Two more days and all the parties will be over.” Mel rubbed Wulf’s back under his black evening jacket until the buzz-saw-like rumbling ceased. Tomorrow evening, there’d be another ball to introduce her as Wulf’s gemate, and the first battle-mate since the Berean Wars, to the upper echelon of Prime society. And the day after, there would be a day-long, open-air festival to introduce her to any Prime citizen who wished to attend.

  Her father-in-law Ilar Caradoc, the hereditary leader of the Cejuru solar system, was footing the bill for all the celebrations. He and Beria understood the potential for danger, but had felt the Prime as a people needed to see Wulf and Mel.

  For many Prime citizens, Mel, one of the Lost Ones, was a miracle, and the people were elated to celebrate her return. There was now hope other Lost Ones would be found when Gold went on their first mission with Wulf’s Prime crews merged into the Alliance Gold crews.

  The couple’s bonding was also touted as the hope for a Prime resurgence in galactic politics.

  Those who weren’t happy with Mel’s resurrection—the Pure Blood faction and certain distaff Caradocs—wanted her dead. The Pure Bloods hadn’t wanted the closer ties to the Galactic Alliance. With her status as an Alliance officer and the new mate of the Prime heir-apparent, her appearance had made the situation worse in the fanatics’ warped minds. For those Caradocs who weren’t in the direct line of power, some wanted her dead before she could produce an heir.

  “I hate parties,” Wulf grumbled, echoing her earlier thoughts. “I’d rather be crawling around in the dirt on Tarn playing war games with our Gold team.”

  “So would I.” She resumed rubbing Wulf’s back with an occasional detour to pet his nice firm ass. She smiled at his low rumble of pleasure. She ached for privacy and their bed. But there was still a sense of worry underneath his desire and the worry wasn’t all for her safety.

  Mel touched his mind, now open to her since he’d confessed his concerns for her safety. She frowned. “You’re upset because we haven’t heard from Nadia and Aeron.”

  She withdrew her hand from his back and stepped around him to face him fully. Not caring about the shocked gasps from the people surrounding them and observing their every move, she placed her hand once more over the gemat marking above his heart. She sent him soothing warmth and all her love. The rest of the world could go hang. Wulf needed her and she could do no other than fill that demand.

  “My mate. My heart. You give me such peace.” Wulf’s eyes blazed gold as he leaned over and sheltered her against his body. He circled her waist with his arms and pulled her closer. His breath whispered across her ear. “Yes, lubha, I am very concerned.

  They should have checked in before this be-damned party started. It is unlike them to miss a checkin.” He kissed the tip of her ear and rubbed his cheek over the side of her face. “I had Iolyn attempt to contact Nadia after that interminable dinner. He couldn’t raise her or the military facility on Tarn.”

  Mel laid her head on Wulf’s chest. His body vibrated against hers, revving for action.

  She felt the increased energy flow along their mating bond. He’d restrained the need to fight … for now.

  She tilted her face up. “Wulf?”

  He must’ve read her concern, because his lips quirked slightly before he kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m fine, lubha. I won’t let loose in my parent’s ballroom. I promise. But I can’t deny my instincts … and my instincts tell me we will need to leave and fight soon.”

  Someone had to be the voice of reason, and she guessed it would have to be her.

  “Maybe communications are spotty because of Tarn’s extreme weather and electromagnetic interference.”

  What made the planetoid inhabitable for common citizens made it great as a training ground for the Prime Elite military units. There were many planets in the galaxy with as harsh or far worse conditions. Soldiers needed to train for all potential dangers. In fact, several of the scientific experiments being conducted by the Prime military on Tarn were centered on how to predict the electromagnetic storms and create communications systems that could work during such events.

  “The communication silence could be part of their war games,” Mel added. “There could be all sorts of reasons why they aren’t responding. We aren’t leaving this party and embarrassing your parents because Iolyn couldn’t touch base with anyone on Tarn.”

  “Everything you mentioned has gone through my mind also and is highly probable.

  But I would feel better if we knew exactly what was happening.” Wulf kissed her forehead. “I think we should approach Father and advise him to rearrange the other two events for some other time. I want to go to Tarn as soon as we leave this party.”

  So much for her voice of reason.

  She nuzzled his chest. “If it would ease your fears, then I’m in agreement … but only if your father says it’s all right. He must consider the fallout from canceling the public appearances. We can’t afford to alienate the general public. The rebels’ slogans about keeping Prime blood pure could easily impress naive minds. The people need to see we aren’t monsters.” We being not just her and Wulf with their unique bond, but the Alliance military as a whole.

  Wulf started to reply and stopped. His brothers, Huw and Iolyn, approached them.

  The few females in the room followed the two with greedy gazes. Mel had to admit, all of the Caradoc men were swoon-worthy; the fact they were dressed in formal wear just added to the effect.

  Huw punched Wulf in the arm in lieu of a greeting. “Hey, you two, mingle. You are the guests of honor at this … this…” he waved an arm at the large room, “…whatever it is.” Wulf’s brother added under his breath, “Too many damn stuffed shirts if you ask me.”

  “No one asked you.” Iolyn cuffed the back of Huw’s head.

  Mel laughed.

  Wulf shifted her to his side and held her there. “Iolyn, have you managed to contact Tarn?”

  Sobering instantly, Iolyn’s lips thinned and his eyes held worry. “No. And no one at either Prime Military Command or the Alliance Military Command can get a response from anyone on the planet. It was as if no one was there. And there is no electromagnetic interference at the moment—I checked. Prime Command has also verified the climactic conditions through the long-range sensors. Something has happened to cut off all communications.”

  It went unsaid, but the only way communications could be cut off was by sabotage.

  Iolyn joined Wulf in snarling, raising the hairs on the back of Mel’s neck and probably scaring every civilian in the room.

  Huw stiffened and looked from Mel to Wulf to Iolyn. “What’s going on? And why am I just hearing about it?”

  “Because you’ve been an irrational idiot lately,” Iolyn said. “And Wulf asked me to check things out and keep it quiet until we figured out what was going on.”

  When Huw bunched his fists and growled, Mel rushed to stop the escalating animosity among the brothers. “Behave. All of you.”

 
; However, Iolyn was correct—Huw had been a proverbial ostrich since Mel and Nadia’s kidnapping. And if the truth were told, he’d had his head buried in the sand since he’d first met her attractive friend. But the Caradoc ballroom was no place for a fistfight.

  Mel turned to look Huw in the eyes. “We haven’t heard from Nadia or Aeron since the Gold team was dropped off.”

  Huw’s emotional response was immediate and strong. His anger, his fears buffeted her. She wondered if he even acknowledged the fears were for Nadia and her safety and not the team as a whole. She imagined not … Huw was in extreme denial concerning what, Mel suspected, was a serious attraction between him and Nadia.

  “Balcon’s balls! I knew we should have gone with them.” Huw paced around her and his brothers. The partygoers around them cleared even more space between them and the obviously on-the-edge-of-control man. Finally, he stopped in front of Wulf and snarled.

  “So? Why are we standing here in our fancy dress and not on our way to see what’s going on?” Huw’s hands were fisted at his sides.

  “Because,” Wulf said, “we just realized something really was wrong. Melina and I had already decided to ask Father to postpone the next two days of celebrations and leave for Tarn tonight. So, calm down, little brother, before I put your ass on the floor.”

  Wulf turned to Iolyn. “Ask the Alliance Military to send a drone from space dock to buzz Tarn. I want video intel of what is happening on the planet before we get there.

  Contact Nowicki and the other Gold captains and have them cancel all leave for the crew members who did not go to Tarn. Tell them to prepare for departure. We’ll leave for the space dock as soon as Mel and I let Father and Mother know what is happening.”

  The Caradoc brothers bristled with the early stages of batel rabia, Prime battle rage.

  The energy they threw off affected all the males in the room. Their strong emotions had every Prime male in the ballroom rumbling in an instinctive need to join the battle. The low-level noise had everyone who wasn’t a Prime male looking around in fear.

  Mel’s gut clenched, and her heart rate elevated as the Caradoc males’

  subvocalization stimulated her fight-or-flight response. Wulf’s store of battle-ready energy now zipped from him to her and back, making her itchy and ready to kill someone—preferably the overreacting males in front of her. Instead, she used the excess energy to put some threat in her voice. “Don’t go into full-blown rage in this ballroom or…”

  Hell, she didn’t know what she would do. The very air in the room heated from the energy pouring off every Prime male. Mel had never experienced batel rabia en masse before. No wonder the Prime defeated the Antareans time and time again. It was the scariest thing she’d ever encountered—and as an Alliance officer she’d faced down some fairly frightening things.

  Mel stroked a shaking hand down Wulf’s tensely muscled arm. “Wulf … please?”

  “Sorry.” Wulf rubbed her waist and throttled back his rage. Then he glared at his brothers who managed to do the same.

  The women in the room seemed to sigh all at once as the other men in the room took their cues from the Caradoc brothers and calmed down.

  “That was potent.” She shuddered as the adrenaline-cortisol boost she’d gotten through the communal hormone surge pulsed in her bloodstream. She was pretty sure she could kick ass and take names against any two or three of the Prime males in the room.

  And since no Prime male was less than six feet in height and most tended to be solid muscle that was saying a lot.

  “You okay, lubha?” Wulf’s harsh whisper carried no farther than the four of them.

  He stroked her chilled naked back.

  “Other than needing to kill something right now, I’m fine.” The three males chuckled. She sensed the control they exercised for her—and for the safety of the people around them. But a small spark could easily set them off once more. “Let’s hurry and make our excuses to your parents before you boys let loose with the Caradoc battle cry and start a civil war in the Caradoc ballroom.”

  “A very good idea, my gemate.” Wulf placed her arm on his and began walking. His brothers headed in the opposite direction toward the exit.

  *

  Wulf guided Melina toward the table where his parents sat with two other members of the extended Caradoc family. His mother and father glowered at him. Well, why not?

  They had to have been affected by his and his brothers’ reaction, just as everyone else had. It was amazing his father hadn’t tracked them down and kicked their asses for ruining his mother’s party.

  Then he caught sight of who sat with his parents. His rage threatened to escape the box in which he’d shoved it. Darga Caradoc! His father’s cousin. The man had serious balls to show up at this celebration of Wulf’s mating.

  Melina rubbed her cheek against his arm. “What’s wrong? You blocked me again.

  Stop it. Who’s that man sitting with your parents? I haven’t been introduced.”

  “Darga Caradoc.”

  “That’s … awkward. Is he the reason your mother is distressed? Your father, furious?”

  “Partially. But their anger is more because me and my brothers almost started a war in the ballroom. Father feels he has Darga under control by setting spies on him.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I can’t believe the apayebo had the nerve to come here after his sons attempted to kill you.”

  “Wulf, I read him as embarrassed, but not sorry.”

  “He isn’t sorry. He is a viper in our family, just as my aunt and her husband were.”

  “Do you really think he’s behind the rebellion?”

  Wulf pulled Melina closer to his side. He wanted her anywhere but here.

  “Nothing surprises me any longer. I never would’ve guessed the animosity Father’s relatives had toward him—and all for a matter of birth order. Darga’s father, Lemi, was the middle son, three years younger than my grandfather. Lemi died a hero during the last major Antarean attack on the planet. Lemi’s wife also died. She’d refused to leave with the other women and children. They would be shamed by their heir’s behavior.”

  Melina hugged his arm closer. “Who’s the other man? He looks like your father.”

  “That’s my Father’s youngest brother, Tenar. He never found a gemate and devotes himself to documenting and writing about Prime history. Your Terran parents would’ve had much in common with him.”

  “Father. Mother.” Wulf inclined his head. “I apologize for earlier. We have lost contact with our people on Tarn and need to leave. Please cancel the next days’

  celebrations until after we come back from Tarn.”

  “I understand. We will definitely reschedule the celebrations. Our people are looking forward to meeting Melina.” His father’s stern face lightened as he smiled at Melina.

  “But before you go, I wish to introduce Melina to more of her new relatives.”

  Wulf grumbled under his breath, but a glare from his mother had him turning to the other two men at the table and inclining his head in greeting. “Tenar, thank you for leaving your mountain aerie to attend our celebration.” He gently brought Melina forward. “Lubha, this is my Uncle Tenar.”

  Melina held out her hand, and Tenar gently encased it within his before releasing it.

  “Pleased to meet you, Tenar. Wulf has told me you’re a historian of some note. I would love to sit and speak with you about the history of our people. Maybe after we come back from Tarn?”

  Tenar smiled. “Any time, my dear. Wulf must bring you to my home. It has the most wonderful view of the capital city and the area surrounding it.”

  A snort from the other male at the table drew everyone’s attention. “Ignoring me, Wulf? Have you no welcome for your cousin?”

  Wulf gritted his teeth. “Uly and Donte attempted to kill my gemate. I think your presence here is inappropriate.”

  Darga nodded, his forehead creased into a scowl. “Would you
hold the father responsible for the actions of his adult sons? I don’t blame you for Uly’s death or Donte’s incarceration—”

  “Donte will die for what he attempted to do on my ship.” Wulf snarled. Only his parents’ presence and Melina’s calming nearness stopped him from picking the man up and throwing him off the cliffside of the terrace to his death a hundred meters below.

  “Why would you even think of blaming Wulf?” Melina’s voice was calm and yet authoritative. “I killed Uly after he’d drugged me and slaughtered a spa’s entire personnel to get to me—not Wulf. And I spared Donte. I could’ve easily killed him and his friend when they entered our quarters and attempted to murder me.”

  Darga’s emotions read as a wild mix of rage, embarrassment, and regret at his sons’

  failure.

  “This is our enemy, lubha .”

  “He’s our people’s enemy,” Melina communicated . “But he doesn’t seem to know we can read him. Doesn’t he understand the connection between battle-mates?”

  “Darga wouldn’t believe it. The man is hungry for power and wealth. He doesn’t respect the past glory of the Prime—I wonder if the fanatics even understand what he’s about?”

  “We’ll make sure they learn. But timing is everything, darling. Right now, he’s a member of your family and on the Elder Council, yes?”

  “For now—yes.”

  “Then we will bide our time, gemat.”

  His father broke the awkward silence which had Tenar glancing at them curiously, a glint of amusement in his sharp, dark amber eyes. “Wulf. Melina … take care on your journey. Keep me apprised of what is happening with your crew.”

  “We will. Thank you.” Melina leaned over and kissed Ilar on the cheek and then turned to kiss and hug Wulf’s mother.

  Wulf hugged his father and whispered against his ear. “Be careful of Darga.”

  His father squeezed him back and whispered, “I am.” Ilar said more loudly, “Go with the One. May he protect and watch over you and your people.”

 

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