“What are you doing? I’m not injured there,” she said, her voice unnaturally husky.
She glanced at the marking. It glowed, changed colors, and, then amazingly, swirled in a rhythmic kaleidoscope effect. Warmth permeated her whole body. Her womb wept and her sex pulsed. She bit back a guttural moan.
“Wulf?” She thrust out a hand, warding him off, warding off the feelings. “What’s happening to me? What is it? An infection from the pirate’s knife?”
“Wulf!” Maren’s harsh tone startled her. “Now is not the time.” Mel tore her gaze away from the fiery glow of Wulf’s amber-colored eyes as he swept them repeatedly over her naked upper torso, each time lingering longer on her marking. Maren’s face was couched in lines of disapproval. His tone of voice held a warning.
“She is injured.” In Prime, Maren added, “Remember our talk. She is unaware.
Patience, my son.”
The diplomat turned to her and handed her a large T-shirt. She could tell by the smell that it belonged to Wulf. She fought the urge to bury her face in the soft garment. “You can use this to cover yourself from the view of the other men.” As if he had just become aware of the audience viewing her naked body, Wulf turned toward the room at large and let out what Mel could only classify as a growl. “Get back to work. All of you.”
The crew hurried to their stations. The mood in the room was one of awe and envy.
Mel didn’t understand any of this. Instead of asking questions that she was sure would not be answered, she turned to Maren and said, “Thank you.” Time to get this show back on the road. She needed to get off this ship—away from the uncomfortable feelings Wulf aroused.
As he turned away, she stopped the older man. “Maren, don’t forget. In my pack there are ear-com units for your primary personnel. They’ll need them to coordinate the battle to regain the ship.”
Maren nodded. “The outgoing communications will work now. Iolyn fixed the problem after you mentioned it. We were unaware the traitor had reached that area of the communications array.” He snagged the pack from where Wulf had thrown it, removed one unit and tossed it to Wulf, then left.
Wulf stared at her, his eyes filled with lambent heat. His hands had stopped shaking and were warm, gentle and efficient as he cleansed the wounds front and back then laser sutured them closed. He then efficiently helped her into his shirt. “You need blood.”
“That can wait until later.” She tapped her ear-com with the prearranged signal.
“Now, be quiet, I need to signal my men.”
Wulf grunted and muttered something that she recognized as gutter Prime.
She couldn’t resist. “Language, Wulf. I may be a soldier, but I’m still a lady.” The look of shock at how well she understood his language was clear in his eyes.
One abrupt nod was the only apology he gave as the etched lines of his face relaxed into an expressionless mask and his emotions stopped bombarding her.
For now, he was under control. She breathed a sigh of relief, just realizing how extremely wearing his feelings toward her were. No man had ever affected her like this—
even the repellant Antareans had never pushed her to the limits of her emotional and physical control.
Shaking off her disturbing thoughts, she clicked the ear-com again and then sent the
“all clear” signal. The answering code came instantly. Nowicki was on top of things as usual.
“They got the signal and are on their way. Fourteen transports from my and Captain Warten’s squadrons. How do you want to proceed once they’re on board and have re-secured the docking bay?”
She had a plan, but considering how overly alpha Wulf had proven to be she’d better get his input. After all, it was his ship.
“The man you shot?”
She nodded, but wasn’t sure what the wounded traitor had to do with their plan to free the ship.
“He would have let the pirates into the engine room after he killed you.”
“I figured as much,” she replied. Did he think she was stupid? “But he aimed at you.
Yet, he hated me, also. Why take the time to shoot us? He could’ve let the pirates in and possibly accomplished his goal. Why make it so personal?” Wulf concentrated on tidying up the bloody cloths. Exasperated, she sighed. “What is going on?”
He swept one large hand through his hair and shook his head. “It’s complicated.”
“Has it anything to do with why the Prime have decided to join the Alliance after centuries of isolation?”
His startled glance said she had hit it on the head. Man, he did think she was stupid.
“Yes.” He turned to dispose of the cloths. “Your Council knows the exact reasons why. I’m not sure you need to know—right now.”
“Again with the later thing, Wulf?”
“Yes. You will find out all—later. After this,” he swept a hand indicating the ship and the battle to regain it, “is over.”
“Fine.” Absently, she rubbed the marking on her hip; it had cooled somewhat since Wulf had touched it. “Did you give me an antibiotic?”
“Yes.” He looked at the area she’d just covered. The look disturbed—and excited—
her. It was possessive. “I did.”
“Good, I wasn’t too happy about getting a filthy pirate blade in my side. Who knows what he’d used it for—or on—last.”
“Any injuries to you are unacceptable,” Wulf stated in firm tones.
Oops, he was back to the lord-and-master pronouncements.
“Because I’m a woman?” She raised a brow, daring him to confess his male chauvinism.
He nodded. And his expression displayed no guilt over his antiquated attitude about women.
“Ah, you’ll have to get over that, Wulf, if your soldiers are to work alongside the Alliance military. We have many women officers and soldiers. We expect equal treatment and respect.”
“I’m not sure a Prime male is inherently able to accept such parameters, Melina.”
“Like I said, you’ll have to—that’s just the way it is.” Feeling somewhat better now that she wasn’t bleeding all over the place, she chanced reopening her senses to the room, taking the temperature of Wulf’s crew as they prepared to battle the pirates to end the siege.
Treachery. Ugly, yellow, bilious waves of it sickened her.
She gasped.
Wulf started and moved closer to her, his body blocked her from the rest of the room.
“Move. Dammit. Wulf, move that big body of yours. There’s another one.” Wulf growled, then moved to block her from the room, forcing Mel to peer around him, first on one side, then the other.
“Well, well, the man I shot was not the last traitor. But, you knew that, didn’t you?” She shot him an inquisitive glare.
It explained the reason that Wulf wasn’t ready to make plans for the battle to regain the ship. He’d suspected there were other traitors inside the engine room. With no privacy, the turncoats could possibly overhear and spoil their plan.
His nod was curt. “Where is he?”
Again, he demonstrated his absolute faith in her ability to read danger. A warm feeling of what some might label contentment moved through her.
She placed a hand on his arm. His large body was tense, readying itself for battle. An almost too-calm look was on his face while underneath he boiled and that tell-tale muscle in his jaw worked incessantly.
“He’s by the communications panel,” she whispered, unconsciously stroking his muscled forearm. “Standing next to Iolyn. Be careful, he’s watching us. I think he noted my scanning for him.”
Wulf nodded, then moved, still blocking her body with his as he casually turned and located Iolyn. His posture stiffened and a low vibration tickled over her skin. The vibrations came from Wulf—he held back a beserker’s rage. It simmered and popped just under his consciousness and somehow she’d tapped into it without even trying. His adrenaline rush became hers. Despite her wounds, her exhaustion, she felt as if she could take on the whole engine room—and win.
Shaking away her feelings as ephemeral, she hissed. “Stop protecting me with your body. Give me room to maneuver—and a weapon.”
“Do you doubt I can protect you?” He all but snarled, his attention equally fixed on the man next to his brother—and on her.
The tone in his voice told her his question held more meaning than the mere words conveyed. Her answer was important, no, crucial, to him. And he would not move away until he had his answer.
“No. I know you can protect me,” she said and realized that answer had come from deep within her core. This man would step between her and all danger. Always, even if it meant his death. It scared her to realize just how vested his emotions, feelings and actions had centered on her from the moment he took her into his arms. “But you need to understand that I’m used to protecting myself and covering the men with whom I fight.”
“Ansu bhau!” he swore. “Just sit there and let someone else protect you for a change.”
Obviously, Wulf was in no mood to listen to reason.
“Fine. I’ll stay here.” Unless I’m needed. “Just leave me a weapon.” Turning, Wulf handed her the weapon from her pack. Sweeping a large hand over her tangled hair, he cupped her chin with the other large, very hot hand. Then he muttered in a soft, almost pleading tone, against her lips. “Be safe, gemate lubha. My brothers will cover my ass. Maren will remain with you.”