His By Command (Primarian Mates Book 2)

by Maddie Taylor

  She swept her cool fingers over his cheek, watching him turn into the touch. “I’ve got this, Roth, and I promise, we are neither helpless nor unprotected.”

  “We boarded you and took you captive, twice.”

  He had a point. “What did you upgrade?”

  “What?”

  “You spoke of upgrades. The engine I know of, what else?”

  Another groan escaped as he clutched his abdomen, fighting through a wave of pain.

  “That’s okay, baby, don’t try to talk. I’ll get it from Allon.”

  He closed his eyes, looking completely miserable.

  “I don’t want to leave you like this, Roth.”

  “I know, love, but you must.”

  With a gentle glide, her fingers sifted through his hair, brushing it away from his face. Maggie kissed his temple once more and although she hated to, left him to get to work, seeing to his safety and protection for a change.

  Stepping onto the bridge was like déjà vu, except Trask’s angry visage was on the twenty-foot-tall view screen.

  “Are you telling me all one hundred of my warriors are sick in bed, including the captain and Commander Roth?”

  “Yes, sir,” Teagan replied, an audible tremor in her voice as she stared—unblinking—at the angry, imposing male.

  “We’re shuttling over, prepare for boarding.”

  “No, our shields are up,” Maggie advised while moving forward. “We’re picking up an alien ship. Do you see it?”

  “Yes, we’ve been tracking it also. It’s made no sign of aggression. I’ll send men over. Once on board, we’ll change course and see if they follow. If not, it’s simply another passing ship.”

  “We’re picking up a second ship, ma’am.”

  “Damn.”

  “And another. Three in all,” Teagan called out. “They are coming into range, have changed course, and are heading directly toward us at increased speed.”

  “I don’t know about you, General, but I’d call that aggression,” Maggie drawled plainly.

  “Faex,” Trask swore, obviously getting the same information from his team.

  “We can’t lower shields with this threat.”

  “Agreed. Dammit.”

  “I need to know about the upgrades to the Odyssey. If we’re going to have to defend ourselves, I can’t operate in the dark.”

  “In preparation for this trip we upgraded your shields, navigation, weapons—including an EMP—and as you know from before, the engines were already improved.”

  “Can we outrun them?”

  “The Dauntless likely, but your ship still has limitations, Maggie. We couldn’t work miracles.”

  “They’re very fast, ma’am, and will be in weapons range in less than thirty minutes.”

  She looked at the man on the screen; he was her mate’s superior, and by extension, now her own.

  “Your orders, General.”

  “I don’t like this. You are females, left unprotected.”

  “We are Earth females,” Maggie corrected. “Very capable of holding our own with your technology in our corner, sir. You take lead and we’ll provide support.”

  There was a pause. “Agreed,” he replied at length, although clearly reluctant. “We’ll attempt to make contact. Stand by, Odyssey.”

  His image faded out.

  “Can you open a channel, Britta. Put it on speaker in the bridge, only.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  After a few moments, they heard Captain Allon’s voice overhead.

  “Dauntless of Primaria to unidentified space craft, your rapid advancement is deemed a threat. Stop immediately and identify yourselves.”

  After a pause, where they didn’t slow, he repeated his message, adding, “this act of aggression will not be tolerated.”

  “Give us the females,” came a gravelly response.

  “Identify yourself, speaker.”

  “We have no quarrel with you, Primarians. But the ship and the females are ours, we have been tracking them for some time.”

  “You are too late; they belong to us. Stand down.”

  Another long pause. “What do you mean they belong to you?”

  “We have mated with them.” He didn’t hesitate before telling that partial truth.

  “Not acceptable,” came the angry reply. It was followed by a smattering of non-English, which even her translator couldn’t decipher.

  “This is Trask of Primaria,” the general’s authoritative voice suddenly interrupted. “We have identified your ships as Denastrian. I demand to speak to Commander Ti-zod.”

  A few moments later, a voice warbled. “General Trask?”

  “Commander, what is the meaning of this? We have a non-aggression treaty with your planet. This violation is an act of war.”

  “Wait, no, we have no quarrel with you. We only want the females.”

  “Impossible.”

  “But, General, you know our circumstances are dire.”

  “Not as extreme as ours; besides, I repeat, the females and their ship have already been claimed. Now, stand down or prepare to be fired upon. Persist and you will also nullify our supply contract for uladite. You have ten seconds.”

  “But, General, we cannot function without the ore.”

  “That is not my problem. Eight seconds.”

  “And where else will we find females to meet our needs.”

  “Not here, not our females, and as I’ve said before, that is not our problem. Five seconds.”

  “But—”

  “Four, three, two—”

  “All right. Standing down.”

  “They’re slowing, Captain,” Teagan said softly.

  “Can we discuss another trade agreement, perhaps. A few of your females, two or three dozen. We would pay handsomely.”

  “We have addressed this before with our Primarian females. The answer was no, is still no, and will forever be, no. Do not bring it up again.”

  “You are an intractable man, General.”

  “No, we are protective men, Commander.”

  He sighed. “Our shipment of uladite will arrive as scheduled?”

  “Yes, if you abide by our agreement, we shall, as well. Trask out.”

  Waiting with bated breath, they watched for several minutes as the three ships changed course and moved beyond the range of their scanners.

  “Maggie?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “You did well.”

  “Thank you, sir. We did as we were trained.”

  “I mean you personally, Captain. You remained calm, decisive, even commanding.” He smiled, only slightly. “Roth should be pleased he has such a highly-accomplished mate.”

  “I am, General, believe me.”

  Maggie spun at the sound of his voice. On the observation deck in the rear of the room, Roth stood with Dayne and two of his technicians by his side, looking peaked and still a tad green.

  “When…?”

  “About the time you said, ‘your orders, General.’” His eyes shot to Trask’s on screen. “If only she were so agreeable with me.”

  The general’s mouth twitched slightly.

  “Why did they want to buy some of us? For breeding?” Maggie asked, ignoring his levity.

  “You don’t want to know,” Roth answered with a shake of his head at the same time Trask replied, “Breast milk.”

  Grimaces erupted and a chorus of “ew” rippled through the bridge.

  “Our feelings exactly,” Trask replied. “Their species has been plagued with illness and plague with a weak immune system, evidently. They’ve found that breast milk gives them the immunities they require.”

  “They could buy it,” Roth put in. “There are worlds that would trade with them. But they are seeking to possess females and, um, mass produce it.”

  “Like cattle?” Teagan exclaimed.

  “Or a dairy farm,” Maggie countered.

  More sounds of disgust were heard from the women.

&nb
sp; “And that is why our answer will always be no,” Trask concluded.

  “And you thought we were being overprotective,” Roth murmured. “There are even worse threats out there.”

  She glanced over and saw him sway, bumping into Dayne beside him, who gripped the rail to keep from toppling over. “You should be in bed,” Maggie chided as she moved toward him. “All of you should, before you fall flat on your faces.”

  “I agree,” Trask concurred. “On screen the four of you look like death.”

  “They don’t look much better face to face,” she remarked honestly.

  This prompted more of a smile from Trask, although his tone was still serious when he said, “Get back to med-bay and get some rest, Roth. I’m shuttling over our physic, some additional med-bay technicians, and supplies. In the meantime, I think Maggie and her crew can handle things until you are ready for duty.”

  “I do too, sir, but I need you to send some additional warriors to provide assistance.”

  “Roth.”

  His eyes cut to her. “It’s not that you’re not capable. We have a traitor onboard and need to begin an investigation into who, how, and why?”

  “A traitor?” she repeated with a frown.

  “Yes, it wasn’t tainted meat, rather a chemical in our morning beverage, something that isn’t favored by you females, so it wasn’t offered.”

  “Someone is sabotaging the mission,” she concluded.

  “Exactly,” Roth replied, his eyes locking with hers. “I imagine they expected us to immediately suspect you.”

  Maggie read the regret in his eyes. Drawn to him, she moved another step closer.

  “We’ll be over within the hour. Trask out.”

  She took the last tread that brought her onto his level and moved along the rail until she was in front of him. Her hand rose to his face, checking for fever, because although still pale, red flags of color streaked across his cheeks.

  He caught her hand and held it to his heated face, the contrast to the coolness of her palm of note.

  “Who do you suspect?” she insisted, needing to know.

  “I don’t know, mate, and I don’t want to talk of it until we can review all of the evidence and discuss it further with Dr. Juna and our physic. She’s been busy, and still is. When her relief comes, we’ll meet.”

  Maggie nodded flushing hot herself when he angled his face to the side and pressed a kiss, with a small tickle from his tongue, into her palm.

  “Roth, you should rest.”

  “I intend to, because this, as you earthlings say, has really kicked my ass.”

  There were giggles around the bridge.

  He and the three others, moved slowly to the door. Last to exit, Roth turned and called softly, “Little captain?”

  “Yes, mate?”

  “You have command of the Odyssey.”

  Her eyes stung as she gazed at him, seeing pride in his tired, feverish eyes, and barely managed to choke out, “Thank you, Roth.”

  26

  In the conference room the next morning, after a briefing from Juna, including the fact that the warriors had recovered quickly, except for a dozen who were still requiring hydration in med-bay, Mordrun immediately pointed an accusing finger at Maggie.

  “She has everything to gain.”

  “Like what, for example?” She addressed the elder calmly, though he read the glint of resentment in her eyes, which was well-deserved after all she had done during the recent crisis. “Why would I attempt to kill my own mate? It would be an act of suicide.”

  “It wasn’t Maggie,” Roth replied, directing a scowl at the offensive elder. “She rarely left my side before the sickness came on, and when she did, she was under guard.”

  “I was?” Her question accompanied a sudden twist of her head in his direction, clearly surprised.

  “Yes, mate.” He added nothing further.

  “Why?”

  “We’ll discuss that later.”

  “I want to know now.”

  “Maggie,” he advised quietly. “You don’t want to have this discussion in public, believe me.”

  “I don’t care if they all hear. I am innocent of what I’m being accused of.”

  “No one is accusing you,” Roth shot back.

  “No one, except him,” she snapped, glaring at Mordrun.

  Trask cut in. “I agree with your mate, Maggie. This conversation needs to be continued in private.” Of course, Trask would side with Roth. “In the meantime, we have a traitor to catch before another incident can occur. You have your assignments,” he added. “Dismissed.”

  In moments, the room cleared except for him and Maggie.

  “You didn’t trust me,” she accused as soon as the doors swished shut.

  “I couldn’t risk another outburst on the bridge. I knew not being in command was emotional for you. I couldn’t be with you always and didn’t want to restrict you to our quarters, so I took precautions to see that you kept out of trouble.”

  “Which means you didn’t trust me,” she repeated, not looking at him, but at her hands.

  “Not completely, although that was before.”

  She had to prove herself, to earn it; it was the truth, especially since they’d been at odds from the very beginning. And he had to prove the same to her. That didn’t mean his suspicions didn’t sting—he could see it in the tension in her frame.

  “Maggie, that was before you showed how much we all can rely on you. You took care of us when we were vulnerable, took charge of the ship—expertly—and as Trask said, you were calm and efficient during a crisis.”

  “And I did every bit of it successfully for three years until your illustrious species came along and kidnapped us. I shouldn’t have to prove myself.”

  He heard the hurt in her voice and felt like an ass.

  “We’ve both made mistakes, mate,” he went on to say as he reached for her hand, which lay fisted in her lap, “and doubted one another. But is it so unexpected considering we are two different species with very different social systems coming together without warning and suddenly finding ourselves mates? Just because our cells line up and our bodies are in tune, doesn’t mean our heads are.”

  “Or our hearts,” Maggie whispered, her face still averted.

  His hand flexed at her words, and when he spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. “That’s where you’re wrong, little one. You captured my heart the first time I saw you lying unconscious on this very ship.”

  When her face came up, tears welled in her violet-blue gaze.

  “Ah, love, that was the physical bond, it took my thick head some time to catch up. I’m very proud of you, and I think every male on this ship is envious of the mate that was fated to be mine.”

  Her shoulders softened, and he breathed a relieved sigh that he was starting to get through.

  “I’m sorry for doubting you, and will strive very hard to trust first, and question second.”

  “And discuss putting a secret guard detail on me, third.”

  “Agreed. Can you forgive me, purrada?”

  Her eyes widened at his question, and he almost laughed at her shocked expression.

  “After all the times I’ve screwed up and you’ve forgiven me? Yes.”

  “I spanked you for most of those screw-ups, Maggie.”

  “Are you suggesting I do that to you, now that you have?”

  “That is not going to happen, mate. And, it’s why the mate’s helper is built on your scale, not mine.”

  “Huh,” she grunted, “something else that isn’t quite fair.”

  “You want me over your knee?”

  She wrinkled her nose at that image. “Not particularly, besides, you wouldn’t fit over my lap.”

  With a tug, he pulled her across his thighs, demonstrating how well she fit in his own. Thankfully, she curled softly into him. His arms enfolded her tighter and he buried his face in her fragrant hair.

  “As I promised, Maggie, we’ll get throug
h this,” he murmured as with his chin, he brushed back the soft, glossy waves, seeking out her silken skin with his lips.

  “I want to believe that, Roth,” was her husky reply, so he went about proving his love, and vowed silently, that he would prove his trust and faith in her, as well.

  He moved up her slender throat with tender kisses, the sound of her whimpered response making his pulse react and his body harden. Always, his mate was as hungry for him as he was for her. He rose, with her in his arms and planted her round bottom on the edge of the table.

  “Roth, anyone could walk in,” she breathed, even as her fingers speared through his hair and her mouth opened wide beneath his. He raised his head, and as he met her passion-filled gaze, at the same time sliding the hem of her gown up her thighs, he spoke words of reassurance.

  “Door locks.”

  At the snick of the mechanism, he exhaled slightly in relief.

  “What?”

  “I was hoping this was one of the rooms that received the upgrade to voice command.”

  “Would you have stopped if it hadn’t?”

  “To put you at ease, purrada? Yes, and suffered leaving you for the time it takes to make the long walk across the room to do it manually.”

  She smiled up at him, opening her thighs in welcome. “Now you don’t have to, leave me that is.”

  “Lie back,” he whispered gruffly, already tasting her sweetness on his tongue. It made him ravenous, as did the sight of his mate, spread out like a feast for him on the table, her heels at the edge as she spread her knees wide apart. Her pink flesh glistened wet under the bright lights as she gathered the hem of her gown to her waist.

  “Roth…”

  That did it, his name, said in that sweet, sultry invitation, wasn’t something he could resist. He fell to his knees and buried his face between her rounded thighs, listening as she called it out again. His fingers parting her exposed his prize and he took it greedily, his mouth sealing over the pearly nub and lashing it with his tongue.

  Maggie, always so responsive, bowed off the table as she sank her fingers into his hair and held him close, her hips lifting, seeking more. He gave it to her, as one hand slipped beneath her bottom and the table, supporting her as he drew harder.

  As she climbed higher, toward a climax, his name became a breathy plea.