Defying the General (Primarian Mates Book 4)

by Maddie Taylor

  When she opened the door, she saw not one friend with her baby, but three. Mailynn held her son, Raylan, the spitting image of Krager, with his shock of thick black hair and gleaming gold-flecked brown eyes. Eva had Kellan propped on her hip. He also looked like his daddy with his same eyes and bronze skin, but what was uniquely different about the new Primmum Ectus—next in line—he had his mother’s champagne-blonde hair, the first fair Primarian in history.

  Behind them stood Eryn with her daughter. Since the Rain of Fire two decades ago, the few children born had all been sons, until Cierra. Lana hadn’t seen her in months and couldn’t help from getting teary-eyed over how much she’d grown. She’d been born on Earth while Lana was home, and she’d had the pleasure of caring for the sweet baby girl while Eryn was sick, and Ram was out of his mind with worry for his mate. During that terrible time, when she worried she’d lose her friend, she’d grown close to Ram. His daughter was a miniature of him. Rather than her mother’s fair creamy complexion and her vivid auburn locks, she had jet-black waves in a cloud around her face, and the same glittering gold-flecked eyes as her cousins. She was stunning, but if not for the mix of green in her iris’s, there wasn’t a hint of her mother in her.

  These women were her friends, and now that she carried Trask’s child and would be a mother to one of the new generation of Primarians, she felt a closer connection to them. And, they were family since Kerr, Krager, Ram, and Trask all cousins. She couldn’t draw them into this and risk their lives, or those of their precious children. She had to get rid of them, but perhaps she could plant a seed of doubt.

  She made it clear this wasn’t a good time, acting rudely, by not inviting them in. “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling up to visitors this morning.”

  “Morning sickness?” Mailynn asked, sympathy in her gaze. “I remember it well.”

  “I thought I’d puke up my toenails,” Eryn said.

  “Please, no. It’s not that at all. How could it be?” she exclaimed loudly trying to cover for their inadvertent disclosure of her condition.

  “Because Primarian genes are incredibly potent,” Mai answered with a little laugh. “And if you’re like us, you won’t be able to avoid it.”

  “No, you don’t understand—”

  “I do!” Eva chimed in. “Dry crackers worked for me, but only if I ate them before I set foot out of bed in the morning. Try it.”

  “Krager brought me buttered toast,” Mai put in. “It had to have butter for some reason or it came back up.”

  “Everything came back up with me,” Eryn stated.

  “We get it, Eryn,” Eva laughed. “You have it bad.”

  “I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic, but I need to go lie down.”

  “We understand,” Eryn said, although she eyed her suspiciously, and her gaze shot over her head. Lana had barely opened the door, though, in an attempt to protect them. The ex-chief noticed this, too, and gave her another wary look. “We’ll get out of your hair, so you can rest.”

  “Appreciate it,” Lana replied, “but before you go, could I get a cuddle from Cierra? I haven’t had baby snuggles in what seems like forever.”

  She held out her arms, and the child lunged at her, falling into her embrace. She rubbed her nose in her soft hair and inhaled her intoxicating baby-sweet smell. “If someone could bottle this scent, they’d be rich.”

  The three women nodded.

  She kissed Cici’s downy-soft cheek before handing her back to her mother. In case she’d misread Eryn’s reaction, she gave her another clue. “She’s beautiful. Her eyes remind me of our apartment and the robin’s egg blue paint on the walls. Remember how we slapped it on, having no idea what we were doing. We got more on us and the floor than the walls?”

  Their apartment had been yellow, not blue, and the former Master Chief of Security had likely not painted more than her toenails in her lifetime. Eryn stared at her as if she’d suddenly sprouted horns, which wasn’t quite the reaction she’d expected. She could only hope she got her message something was seriously wrong. Even if she called Trask to tell him she’d cracked up, would get a response—she hoped.

  “You remember, don’t you?”

  “Uh, yeah, how could I forget?” she replied, thankfully playing along. “Although with the mess we made and had to clean up, crawling on our hands and knees, scraping it off the floor, I’ve tried. How you did that for six months on Terra Nova, I’ll never know.”

  “I was desperate,” she said, staring meaningfully into her friend’s intelligent green eyes. “And had no other choice.”

  Eryn eyed her critically for a moment before moving quickly toward the front gate.

  Mai followed next, after patting her arm.

  “We’ll come back when you’re feeling better,” Eva told her as she turned to go. “A few weeks and the morning sickness should be passed.”

  “Not if she’s like me,” Eryn called back. The other women simply shook their heads, but unlike Lana, they hadn’t seen how violently ill her friend had been.

  With waves and another curious glance from Eryn, they were gone.

  “Close the door,” Mordrun ordered from behind her, digging the blaster painfully into her spine to remind her he was still in charge. Once she did, he motioned down the hall. “Out the back, quickly. We need to go in case they decide to return.”

  “If you’re getting rid of me, why should I cooperate? I’m dead either way.”

  “I’m not going to kill you,” he replied, his fingers digging into her arm painfully when she didn’t move as he’d demanded. In the kitchen, he shoved her in front of him.

  “You aren’t?” she asked as she caught her balance, moving faster now, so he wouldn’t push her again.

  “I’m giving you to friends as payment for a favor.”

  “Who?” she asked in horror. “Not the Denastrians.”

  Even Mordrun grimaced. “Vile creatures. I can see why they don’t appeal. But this is someone else who finds humans particularly enticing. You might call it a craving.”

  Goose bumps broke out on her skin as she shivered in revulsion.

  “Quit stalling.”

  “If I don’t?”

  He raised his blaster. “This is set to stun. I’ll shoot you and drag you if I must. As scrawny as you are, it shouldn’t be difficult.”

  Afraid of what a photon blast even on stun might do to her baby, Lana complied, planning to watch for another opportunity to escape him.

  Through the door, when she started across the flagstone patio, she stopped short, her hands coming to her mouth in horror. Her two rear guards lay slumped on the ground, unmoving, near the courtyard wall. She staggered, but not from her rubbery knees, which could have very well caused it, but because her heel caught on the edge of the same loose stone she always tripped on. Remus had promised to summon a mason before someone broke their neck—most likely her. And thank goodness he hadn’t gotten to it yet because it gave her an idea.

  “Are they dead?” she asked of Mordrun as she used her foot beneath her long skirt to lift the loose stone up more at an angle.

  “Stunned, the same is in store for you if you don’t move.” He jabbed the muzzle of his gun painfully into her back. She lurched forward, or at least she pretended to, careful to avoid the protruding stone. As she righted herself, she listened and prayed he wouldn’t look down.

  He didn’t and tripped, grunting as his foot caught the stone and he started to go down, which is what she hoped would happen. Tripping was enough, however. She had to get the weapon.

  With her fingers interlaced together, she spun and slammed her clenched hands as hard as she could against the side of the awful man’s head. Already off-balance, he dropped to his knees, arms extended, hands open to catch himself on the hard ground. She timed it, so when he landed, she stomped her heel hard on his fingers. She thought she heard a crunch, but it could have been wishful thinking. While Mordrun squealed like a pig in pain, she bent and ripped the weapon away
from him.

  With trembling hands, she leveled the blaster at him as she backed away several paces.

  “Who’s stupid now, old man?” She eyed the dial on the side of the gun. “So ‘s’...that stands for stun, right? Should I blast you senseless like you planned to do to me.”

  “No! Don’t!” he cried. “S means silent, not stun; the charge is set to full power.”

  “You bastard! You were going to kill me after all.”

  “Yes, bitch. I don’t want you gone; I want you dead.”

  “It’s been you all along, hasn’t it? You not only caused the Terra Nova explosion, but the one in the North Mine here on Primaria. And you poisoned the warriors on the Odyssey, didn’t you? You were so desperate to obstruct the integration, you targeted your own people.” As she went through the mounting list of incidents, she was sickened by his treachery. “It was you who cut Eryn’s breathing tube, wasn’t it? She almost died, you hateful fucker.”

  “While you’re dredging up past history, why not ask if I was responsible for the rock fall that killed my brother? Or the engine malfunction which killed Trask’s father. Stupid human, I’ve covered my tracks for twenty years without suspicion. I’ve sat on the council for two decades and am revered. Who are you? A breeder who opens her thighs for Primarian seed. Except you can’t even accomplish that. Go on, tell them all. I’ve laid a trail to Aylan, who wants nothing more than Krager to rise to power. No one will believe you if you try to impugn me and implicate me in treason.”

  “I believe you have done an excellent job of it yourself, Uncle.”

  His head twisted to the side, as did Lana’s, and they both stared—Mordrun in horror, herself in relief—at Max Kerr. His golden eyes blazed with such intense fury, she took a step back. The look was recreated in the faces of the men who flanked him—Trask, Ram, and Krager, and the half dozen other warriors who now filled the small rear courtyard.

  Her mate shouldered past his leader and strode to her side.

  “I’ll take that,” he murmured as he pulled the blaster from her trembling fingers. “Are you all right, paulova? Did he harm you?”

  “I’m okay, so is the baby.” But with the drama over, and her mate’s protective arm sliding around her, the enormity of the near-death experience hit her, and she began to tremble. Trask passed the weapon to someone behind him and enveloped her with both arms as her rubbery knees gave way.

  “How did you know to come, with so many?”

  “Eryn sent an urgent transmission to Ram. She said you were acting funny and suspected something was wrong here. Thank the Maker she did.”

  “I was counting on her.”

  “She also said if she had been armed and didn’t have a baby on her hip, she would have taken care of whatever it was herself, which would have made Ram’s head explode.”

  Lana didn’t doubt it of her friend for a moment. Unbelievably, she laughed, though she muffled it by pressing her face in his tunic. From the angry waves bouncing around the courtyard, her amusement likely wouldn’t have been appreciated.

  Ram’s voice rumbled in an enraged growl behind them. “Kerr, if I have to look at him another second, old man or not, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  “I know exactly how you feel; the sight of him sickens me,” the Princep replied. “Take him away.” She pulled away from Trask enough to see him signal two of the warriors forward. “And get the response team here, now,” he commanded of no one in particular. “Tell them we have four warriors down, two back here and out front.”

  “I’ve already transmitted the alert,” Krager stated, from where he crouched beside her unconscious guards. “They’re coming around now. We can add multiple charges of assault and attempted kidnapping to his long list of crimes.” Suddenly, he was on his feet and storming toward Mordrun. “You tried to set my father up for your own treasonous intentions. What is wrong with you?” he demanded. “Betraying your own brother, your Princep, myself, Ram, and Trask; we’re your kin.”

  “You are all traitors!” the old man spat. “Consorting with aliens, contaminating our pure familial line with inferior blood.”

  Lana stiffened, getting tired of hearing her species maligned by this warped, xenophobic old man.

  “This will break Valkerr’s heart,” Trask observed as his arms tightened around her.

  “Valkerr?” she asked softly, remembering the name from her file.

  “My grandfather.”

  Trask of Valkerr, now it made sense.

  “My father, the old fool, this is his fault,” Mordrun bit out, plainly unrepentant. “He should have ceded the authority to me, not my weak older brother. It was the beginning of the end the day Alvarr was given authority in my stead. I rue the day he came to power.”

  “You’ll rue this day,” Kerr said in a deadly tone. “Your malice knows no bounds. Exile is too good for you. For what you have done—conspiring against your own, undermining our efforts to keep our species from dying out, kidnapping, attempts on our mates’ lives, and, by your own admission, the assassination of a Princep. For these capital crimes, I shall see you pay the ultimate price.”

  “You can’t! We haven’t condoned execution for centuries!”

  “For you, Uncle, I’m bringing it back because no one has deserved it quite so much as you, Mordrun of Valkerr.” He jerked his chin to the side and the warriors dragged him away. The Princep stared coldly after him. “Suspicions pointed to him being behind this, but we had nothing concrete. I should have acted before now, but I couldn’t make myself believe he was capable of such hatred and treachery.”

  “None of us could,” Krager murmured. “He is family.”

  “His illness, all those years ago, affected him,” Trask observed, his chest vibrating beneath her ear. “He hasn’t been right since. Grandfather knew he couldn’t lead us and hoped to appease him with a place on the council. But who would have suspected the bitterness that simmered beneath the surface, fueling his hate all this time?”

  “And we were the catalyst that brought it to the surface,” Lana stated softly.

  “No, Lana,” Kerr countered. “You were the catalyst that will save us all. Mordrun is simply too old, foolish, and stubborn to realize the truth.”

  Epilogue

  BENEATH A SHADE TREE in the courtyard, Trask sat with his back against the trunk, Lana lying between his spread legs. On her side, with her head resting on his chest, she relaxed in the strong arms wrapped around her. They were still, the only movement between them, Lana’s fingers idly stroking his chest. It was simple enough in his wrap-style tunic, the only thing holding it closed, the belted waist. This meant she could slip her hand inside and touch smooth skin, bulging pecs, and ridged abs. It would have been an idyllic, restful, perfect moment if she could only shut off her brain which was still trying to comprehend all he’d told her.

  He’d come from a council meeting, where Mordrun had appeared to answer to the mounting list of charges piling up against him. But they hadn’t gotten far in the proceedings due to his bizarre behavior, cursing one moment, sobbing the next, and in between uttering off-the-wall and paranoid accusations against members of the council. But the real indication he wasn’t in touch with reality, more so than the crazed look in his eyes, was the way he kept referring to Kerr as Alvarr, his father. It was as if he thought him still alive, and he didn’t stand accused, implicated by his admission, of murdering him two decades earlier. That and the spurts of maniacal laughter. A physic had been called, and he was undergoing treatment even now, and according to Jarlan, would need to for a while because his mind had snapped.

  Trask said Valkerr had been stunned one of his sons could plot the murders of three others—yes, three, Kerr, Ram, and Trask’s father’s all killed to clear a path for his rise to power—and appeared to age twenty years in the strain of the past week. He wasn’t the only one shocked by the news; the residents of the usually placid capital city were still reeling a killer—worse, a man who had enough evi
l in him to carry out fratricide three times over—had walked freely among them for decades.

  This hadn’t even started to sink in when he hit her with more unbelievable and awful news.

  “I can’t believe Betsy is dead,” she breathed. “The six months I lived on Terra Nova, there wasn’t so much as a barroom brawl. Now, to have four murders in only a few weeks, it’s awful.”

  “Whether they were murders or otherwise hasn’t been determined yet.”

  She tipped her head back until she could see his face. “You said the bodies were found outside the city, desiccated. Doesn’t that mean they bled out? How else could it have happened? Vampires?”

  “Vamp-what?”

  “Mythical characters who feed off their victims by sucking their blood.”

  He grimaced. “Your myths are horrifying. Ours are quite the opposite.’

  “You mean the ones about fated mates who live happily forever after, like you and me?”

  His troubled expression eased, replaced by a warm glint in his eyes and a tender smile. “Yes, exactly like us.” The arm around her waist flexed, and he dragged her up his chest enough for his mouth to first brush her forehead then lightly touched the tip of her nose, and next, after he angled his head to the side, place a feather-soft, yet utterly tantalizing kiss on her lips.

  When he released her, she didn’t slide back down but curled around him, her face in his neck and her fingers combing through his hair. She loved his hair, and his beard. She moved her hand to his jaw. He was growing it back because she’d asked him to. Already, it was filling in nicely, though he kept in trimmed and his neck smooth, just like the warrior barbarian she’d met in the jungle—gorgeous, slightly wild, and incredibly sexy.

  The sweet moment wasn’t enough to wipe out her anxiety over his sister remaining on Terra Nova with the potential danger, and her concern for Beck’s safety. She didn’t mention the latter, knowing her friend was still a touchy subject.

  “Is Adria safe?”

  “I’m not taking any chances. I ordered her home with the next supply flight, and until then, I charged Remus and Tarus with keeping her safe. They have two warriors guarding her around the clock until her departure in two days.”