His By Command (Primarian Mates Book 2)

by Maddie Taylor

  A rumble by her ear refocused her attention. Looking up, she saw lavender eyes staring down at her. His anger seemed to have faded as he murmured something, his voice coaxing as if talking to a child. It still made no sense to her and she shook her head. His big hands slid up to hold her, palms over her ears, fingers threaded into her hair and splayed wide over her scalp, as another man in a black and white tunic with a dark, neatly trimmed beard approached. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lurch to a halt and stare at the floor where the man she had injured went down. With eyes wide, he glanced up at her and made a comment.

  The man holding her chuckled, which startled her almost as much as his anger. He motioned for the bearded man with his head. When he stepped up beside her bed with a device of some kind in his hands, Maggie knew that whatever it was, it was going to be used on her.

  Terrified, she did something that she never did, and certainly not in front of others, at least not since she was a child; she began to cry.

  Tears clouded her vision as she pleaded with him, “Don’t do this, please.”

  His face softened as his thumbs wiped the wet trail tracking down her cheeks, yet he didn’t put a stop to it.

  “No, please,” she whispered as the other man put some sort of shield over her eyes, similar to dark glasses. Once they settled in place, she knew no more fear or the embarrassing arousal that rushed through her body at the big man’s touch. Instead, she knew nothing, as darkness blanked her mind.

  “She’s a feisty one, Commander. And strong. I’ve never seen Aldo knocked out before, and he spars on a regular basis.”

  Ignoring his comment as the time dragged slowly by, he glanced up at the monitor. The gauges were in the normal zone, which was encouraging and the blip that represented her beating heart was steady, except it was well past the average duration for a simple translator insertion. “Shouldn’t she have come out of it by now?”

  The med-tech stopped his droning about nothing important to check the little captain’s readings on the monitor. He laid his fingers along the side of her throat as he did so.

  “Some of the females have been slow to rouse, we’ve found. In her case, everything appears normal. I imagine when this one wakes, she’ll be fuming mad like so many of the others. They are an interesting and diverse species. Some are meek and timid, but not many are as feisty as poor Aldo found out personally. You’ll have your hands full, Commander.”

  Roth smiled as he gazed down at the sleeping female. She was indeed spirited and had an impressive temper. He’d also glimpsed a wealth of other traits: courage, caring, protectiveness, and back in the cell an air of authority as she demanded freedom on her people’s behalf, which he found admirable. There had also been moments that surprised him. Her startled reaction when she’d first seen him, and when she’d tried to conceal her quivering hands behind her, but most of all when tears had filled her lovely blue eyes. Her vulnerability in those moments had affected him deeply. He’d wanted to take her into his arms, hold her tight to his chest, and whisper words of reassurance as he kissed her tempting lips.

  “She’s a beauty,” the man observed aloud as he worked. “Are you hoping for a match?”

  Roth tensed. “I have other obligations. Another male will have the privilege.”

  His tone was sharper than he intended, but the thought of her belonging to another didn’t sit well with him. Neither did his sudden possessiveness, for the second time. Even so, a mate wasn’t in his plan, not now or ever. He’d have to get over his disturbing feelings for the pretty alien. Thank the Maker that his duties which took him away from Primaria, and left her safely behind, would help with that.

  “Can you give her something to wake her? I have other business to see to.”

  “It’s best if she rouses on her own,” the technician stated, giving him an odd look at his sudden impatience. A small sigh from the female on the bed drew their attention and the next instant her lashes fluttered open.

  Dazed, she blinked, clearly trying to get her bearings. He leaned over her, one hand flat on the bed near her hip as he watched her come out of her drowse. Once more, he was reminded of a purrada, warm and sweet, especially when gazing sleepily up at him and smiling softly. It was his turn to blink. Already lovely, the curve of her mouth and the softness that graced her face in that moment made her breathtakingly beautiful. He moved closer, asking in a low voice so as not to startle her.

  “Can you understand me, little captain?”

  As if doused in cold water, she stiffened, the smile and gentleness fading from her features, then she frowned.

  “Are you speaking English?”

  “No.” He tapped her temple lightly. “You can understand my language now; thanks to the translator we inserted.”

  “What? You mean like in brain surgery?” Plainly horrified, she struggled uselessly against her bonds.

  “Hush, now. It was a minor procedure we perform on every child by the time they reach the age of five. No harm was done, I assure you.”

  “No harm! You tied me down, touched me without permission, and rooted around in my brain.” Suddenly, she went rigid, staring up at him in horrified accusation. “What other terrible things did you do while I was unconscious?”

  “Only the translator, nothing more.”

  “Like I believe you.” Her cheeks flushed with color and the stunning blue of her eyes snapped with outrage. She was magnificent, and he couldn’t keep from smiling.

  “You think this is funny? Let me loose.”

  “Certainly.” Nodding to the technician, they both worked to release the restraints. Soon, she was free to sit up, which she did much too quickly.

  “Carefully,” he warned. “There may be some mild residual effects.”

  As if on cue, she swayed unsteadily, her hands flying to her head.

  “Dizziness, headache, mild nausea, to name a few,” the tech added.

  “I can’t believe you stuck something in my brain,” she whispered, her fingers running over her temples and through her hair, searching for a mark of some kind. He knew what she’d find—nothing. The procedure was practically undetectable. Her head whipped around and with a hostile glare at the med-tech, she demanded of him, “Take it out.”

  “No,” Roth stated, striving for patience. “You need it.”

  Hair in soft waves flew around her head as it snapped back, and the blue orbs that only moments ago had belonged to a sleepy purrada, now brimmed with fury as they locked on him. “Not if you let us go, we don’t. What else can you do with it? Read our thoughts? Control us?” Her accusations were offensive, though understandable.

  “We wouldn’t do that.”

  “You stole eight of my crew from the research planet, and then came back for seconds by stealing my whole damn ship. I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you.” Her gaze scanned up and down his large frame, adding as she held up her thumb and forefinger a hair’s width apart, “Which is about this far. Who are you? Why have you done this? What do you want?”

  “Your many questions will be answered when we arrive on Primaria.”

  “Prime what?”

  “Primaria. It is our home planet. Once there, we will explain your new roles in our society.” He curled his long fingers around her upper arm to assist her from the exam table, but she wrenched it free. As she came to her feet under her own power, she lurched forward, her hands reaching out to grab hold of something, anything, to save herself from falling. It happened to be him. As her fists gripped his tunic, Roth slipped his hands around her slender waist and held her until she was steady on her feet.

  “I’m fine now,” she muttered after a few moments, not looking at him. The proud female was apparently distressed by showing him weakness and needing his assistance.

  In his care, although only for this short time, he still wouldn’t let her hide from him. He nudged up her chin with one hand. “Any more dizziness?” he asked, searching her face as if for tell-tale signs of further faintness.
“Or perhaps queasiness that your stomach might rebel?”

  Twin crimson stains appeared high on her cheeks as she shook her head, while averting her gaze. She would need to learn not to be embarrassed over her body’s natural responses. As her mate, he would work on that shyness.

  He pulled his hands away as if he’d been scalded. What was he thinking?

  “If you’re feeling better now, you can follow me,” he pronounced curtly as he made his way toward the door.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’ll take you to where you’ll be staying until we arrive at your new home.”

  “That’s it?” she demanded shortly, a sharp edge to her voice.

  Already at the door, he turned to see she had come to a halt in the middle of the floor and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You’ve what?” she went on, her voice rising. “Claimed us, like property? Without us having any say? And now you expect me to comply? You are nuts.”

  He found himself mirroring her stance. “I don’t care for your tone.”

  She huffed a humorless laugh. “And I’m supposed to care that you don’t? I’ve been kidnapped, held prisoner, strapped down, and operated on, and you expect civility?” She shook her head as though she thought he was short witted, then cocked out a hip, clearly prepared for a standoff. She’d learn fast that his tolerance wasn’t endless.

  Slowly, he stalked toward her, not stopping until he was in her space, his large body a miniscule distance from hers, unabashedly using his size to intimidate. Before he said what he had to say, he waited until her head tipped back and she gazed up at him.

  “I suggest you rethink your position, little one. This is not your ship and you are not in charge here. I am. Disregard me at your peril.”

  She didn’t flinch, he’d give her credit for that, but her eyes widened ever so slightly at his threat, and the color in her face muted slightly. The technician, clearly having a more attuned instinct for self-preservation, quickly fled, leaving her alone to deal with him, not that Roth would have allowed him any say. After a few silent moments, she wisely adjusted her closed-off stance, letting her hands fall to her sides, becoming far less antagonistic.

  Still toe to toe with her, he pushed his advantage, laying everything out clearly for her. “I have been patient. I understand this is all new, and I’m sure very frightening, but let me make something perfectly clear. I am the commander, in charge of the Primarian space fleet. While I don’t expect you to swear your undying loyalty to me, I do require that you respect the position, if not the man. That will come in time. I, in turn, will keep you safe, ensure that you are provided for while in my care, and that you are treated with the same courtesy that we treat all our females. However,” he added, leaning down for effect, bringing them nose to nose, “if I hear another insult, smart remark, or anything else in that cutting tone, I will put you over my knee and punish you in the time-honored fashion with which we deal with disrespect on Primaria. Have I made myself clear?”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” she rejoined sharply.

  He arched a brow at her own audacity. “Push me further and you can test your theory.”

  Her mouth opened. Then, as though she thought better of what she might say, it snapped shut.

  “I require an answer, little earthling. Yes, commander will suffice.”

  She stared up at him a moment, swallowing audibly, before she uttered, “Yes, commander.” As she replied, she made a face as though the words tasted bitter on her tongue. He let that slide.

  “Very good, now come with me.”

  “This is very unfair, you know. Every bit of it.”

  “Such is the lot of your weaker gender and species, I’m afraid. And believe me, we Primarians know very well that life often isn’t fair.”

  5

  This time when he strode to the door, it was with her hand clasped in his. Her much shorter legs were doing double time as she tried to match his pace.

  With each step, her anger and irritation grew. Something she didn’t think possible after he’d threatened to take her over his knee and spank her, like a bratty child, if she didn’t toe the line. This had to be some horrendous nightmare that she couldn’t wake from. Then again, if it was, the heated glare she was currently aiming at his back would have dropped him dead, right there.

  If she weren’t so livid, she would have asked him to elaborate on his last cryptic remark or the million and one other questions whirling in her head. She’d pushed him enough, however, testing him deliberately to see how far he’d let her go. It was risky, he could have killed her with a flick of his wrist, rather than try to reason with her as he had, but how could she consider their capture and enslavement anything other than an affront, an injustice, and a complete insult to human decency.

  Human. That was the key difference. These Primarians weren’t human and evidently didn’t possess respect for humanity and basic rights, let alone women’s rights.

  It had rattled her, frankly, and had earned the response he’d been after, her compliance. She’d read about male dominant societies in fiction, and Earth’s history was full of it for the first two thousand years. Hell, some of the countries in her world were still trying to evolve hundreds of years after women got the right to vote in the United States, but she hadn’t expected to encounter one in their travels. Although, in deep space exploration she had been told to prepare for anything.

  This ship, for example. It was enormous. They had been walking—in her case almost running to keep up with his long-legged stride—for at least ten minutes, only making a few turns in all that time, and he didn’t appear to be slowing. She was out of breath and out of patience. Her defiance, only momentarily subdued, pushed front and center once more as she dug in her heels.

  He halted, frowning as he looked back to determine the latest problem.

  “Your legs are a foot longer than mine,” she uttered breathlessly. “I can’t keep up.”

  “I have duties that need attending to. Would you prefer I carry you?”

  She shook her head so fast, her hair, already half undone from all she’d been through, came tumbling down the rest of the way to fall around her shoulders. His face gentled as he observed her. One of his hands tugged on her own as he moved her closer, while his other rose to catch a curl between his fingers. “It’s like a soft cloud threaded with gold,” he murmured in a husky voice, “and quite stunning.”

  Abruptly he stiffened, the gentleness fading fast, as he dropped his hands.

  “Try to keep up, little captain,” he warned, “or you’ll be over my shoulder so I make sure that you do.”

  And he could, easily. He had to be at least seven feet tall like the rest of these huge aliens, as well as handsome as sin, broad shouldered, and lean hipped. Everywhere she looked he was muscle. And she knew firsthand, having been carried like a child in his arms once before, they were hard enough to crack walnuts. He was also obstinate, and beyond arrogant, thinking they could take her ship and imprison her crew. And she wasn’t convinced that the translators they had inserted without their consent weren’t also some kind of mind-control device.

  Still, as her captor, she needed to be careful around him; his temper and mood were abruptly changeable, like quicksilver. If she was going to find a way out of this predicament, she had to watch, wait, and let him believe she was resolved to her fate. Docile, like Primarian women apparently were. Why else would they put up with his crap?

  Her tone was quiet and decidedly polite as she started in again. “Listen, Captain—”

  “It’s Commander,” he corrected, not for the first time, as he slowed. In front of them an elevator opened. Once inside, he looked down at her and raised a sable brow, waiting for her question.

  She swallowed down her unease at being alone with this big alien. “Can you tell me what you plan to do with us?”

  “You’ll learn everything you need to know, including our history, which has had a direct impact on your current ci
rcumstance, all in due time.”

  “Due respect,” she replied, trying to keep the snark from her tone. “All in due time tells me nothing. My people have a right to know their fate.”

  “You will be treated well, have no fear,” was his vague response as the lift doors slid open and they were off down another long corridor.

  “Commander. If you don’t have time, maybe you could arrange for an audience with your superior.”

  “I have no superior. On this vessel, I am the ultimate authority. On yours, also, since we have taken command of it as well.”

  She visibly bristled both at his nerve and his arrogant reply. “You don’t have that right.”

  “You speak of rights, female? What rights you have are what we decide to give you. We have claimed your people under the laws of Primaria, which places you under warrior command, like your vessel.”

  “We are people, not objects! You can’t do that.”

  “I am well aware that you are sentient beings. Nonetheless, as females you will obey males in authority, and the sooner you learn that you have no say to the contrary, the better off you will be.”

  Maggie sputtered, unable to form words, but having no problem thinking condescending, egotistical jerk. She tugged on her hand for release, but he didn’t slow, didn’t even blink, her resistance no more bothersome than a gnat to an elephant as he flexed his fingers in a stronger grip and took another turn at an intersection with yet another corridor. Maggie didn’t see any signs, numbers, or landmarks and had no idea how he knew where they were going. It all looked the same to her.

  “What are we, then, prisoners or some sort of spoils of war?” she demanded to know, once again nearly running to keep up. “And to what end? Are we to be slaves? Do you need workers for your fields, test subjects for your experiments, or will you sell us for a quick buck?”

  He shot a scowl at her over his shoulder, still not slowing a bit. “You have a flair for the dramatic. I can tell you we don’t have slaves on Primaria. All men are free.”