Wulf, I live.
Nothing.
Wulf, I—am—alive. Safe. Calm down. Your emotions are causing me pain.
She concentrated so hard on her message she felt she might burst a blood vessel.
His angry heat turned to icy shock and just as quickly was replaced with a blinding happiness. Reining in his widely vacillating emotions, he sent her what she needed—
soothing, almost sensual, warmth. It was as if he’d reached out and enveloped her within protective arms.
She sank against the rock wall. He’d gotten her message. She smiled the first real smile she’d had in days.
Gemate lubha. I’m coming. Stay safe.
Then a surge of energy infused each and every cell in her body. Her heart sped up.
Steely resolve steadied her nerves—and Wulf’s.
Her Prime warrior readied himself to kill Antareans. To find her.
Re-energized by Wulf’s nearness, this would be an excellent opportunity for her to set the explosives on the Antarean ship while he distracted and harried the enemy on the ground.
Yeah, he’d told her to sit tight, but staying safe while others fought was not her style.
Besides, the Antareans were far too busy running for their lives from the mighty Prime warrior and his ship to worry about one little planet survivor.
Mel stood up and headed for the hiding place where she’d stashed the explosives.
After that, she’d make one Antarean ship into a heap of scrap metal—if Wulf hadn’t already done so by the time she reached the surface.
* * * *
Melina’s mental touch soothed him. Against all odds, she was alive. The rusty prayers from his youth had been answered.
Better yet, she seemed relieved that he’d come. The separation had been just as hard for her as it had for him. The fact that she could feel his emotions so far away and then communicate with him proved how strong the imprinting was. If it was this strong after only the initial awakening, he could only imagine how closely they’d be connected once they merged physically and were in constant contact.
Primitive instincts told him to get to her, pull her to him and never again let her out of his sight. With only her at his side could he be complete.
But to get to her, he had to go through an unknown number of Antareans.
The molten-hot rage that had been Wulf’s constant companion for the last twenty hours subsided. Like an icy armor, his nerves now steeled themselves for battle.
He’d caused Melina pain with his fury. Protective instincts he’d never used before sought his mate, then sent what she needed from him—soothing warmth, stroking and holding her in ephemeral arms until he could do so in person.
Without the potent mix of anger and grief he’d experienced after seeing the destruction on the planet—after he’d thought she’d died—he could now sense his gemat sign as it pulsed and swirled in reaction to her nearness. His loins ached with the need to claim her.
Soon. After.
Melina was still in danger. His message of staying safe was instinctive and one she would ignore as beneath her notice. He knew her now. His battle-mate would continue to fight until either the last Antarean apayebo was dead or he took her away from this unholy rock.
Guess he’d better even the odds in their favor. Then, he could land and begin his search for his runaway mate.
Eyeing the area around the scientific expedition’s domes, he swore. No one could have survived that barrage. Melina must have been elsewhere when the attack occurred.
Admiral Nelson had mentioned that Melina’s distress call confirmed she was the only survivor. His gemate had lost her parents—her friends. She’d been alone, yet she had survived. His pride in her strength and courage increased triple-fold.
But now, she no longer had to fight alone.
Narrowing in on a large group of Antareans attempting to get back to their ship, he swept the ground with a laser cannon barrage, forcing them to run back from where they’d started. The domes.
“Uh-unh, no you don’t,” he muttered, his words a low rasping growl echoed within the small command area.
Smiling grimly, he swept the domes with a fusillade of laser streams. The living left the collapsing structures and headed for the catacombs.
Now that was absolutely unacceptable. He sensed that Melina was in the ancient Prime underground fortification.
He lay down a stream of laser fire across the path of the Antareans, successfully halting their progress. Then he precision-blasted them into subatomic size particles.
“Let’s see them regenerate now,” he snarled.
His ship swooped over the hills that protected the catacombs before circling back around to take another pass over the valley. He passed over the Antarean ship, sitting on a dry lakebed. Time to take out the apayebote’s only way to escape.
Just as on his initial approach to the planet, his sensors did not indicate any life forms on board. The Antareans must have been awfully sure of themselves to leave the warship empty. But why wouldn’t they be? The only person on Obam IV who would be dangerous to them was Melina—and they’d discount her as a threat. All reptile-like species considered females as biological conveniences and nothing more.
As he prepared to take a strafing run, movement at the back of the ship caught his eye. He made another low, slow pass and spied a small figure. Melina! She placed something inside one of the weapon slots. He sought her mind. She was going to blow up the ship.
“That’s my battle-mate,” he whispered, torn between admiration for her guts and the desire to spank her for placing herself in danger.
His assumption that she wouldn’t stay put had been correct. He shook his head.
They’d have a small talk about obeying one’s gemat in dangerous situations. She should have trusted that he would take out the Antarean ship.
An angry snort flickered through his head. “You could have said you were going to do it.”
He’d forgotten she was also tuned into him. This telepathic connection would take time to get used to.
She looked up, hands on her hips. “I’m not helpless; if I were a man you would’ve expected me to share the load.”
He choked back a laugh.
She waved, then pointed to a large spot made for landing a ship on the top of the hill overlooking the lake bed. “Land there. I’ll make my way and meet you at the catacomb entrance to the plateau.”
“I see it.”
He swooped over the landing spot marked with Prime symbols. He’d be able to find the entrance to the catacombs from the markings. The high ground was eminently defensible and would keep his ship safer from attack by any remnants of the Antareans.
The catacombs would be deadly to anyone not Prime, or to one like Melina who had studied it. No Antareans would make it to the top without falling into a trap.
It seemed almost appropriate that they’d come together for the first time—and they would come together, he was not taking a chance that she got away from him again without the final awakening—in a Prime site his ancestors had abandoned over a millennium ago. This site was built in a time when battle-mates were plentiful and the Prime race had been at its most powerful.
After he made love to Melina and tucked her safely away on his ship, then he’d root out the remainder of the devil-blessed apayebote who dared to come after what was his.
* * * *
Smiling at the cocky way Wulf handled his star cruiser, Mel placed the final set of charges.
Wulf had gotten as many of the Antareans as he could from the air. Those remaining had gone to ground. The next phase would be going after the stranded remnants of the raiding party—stranded, that is, after she blew up their damn ship.
Mel grinned with anticipation. After a short rest, Wulf and she could team up and go hunting. She was certain Wulf wouldn’t want to leave any of the Antareans alive. She was just as certain he’d try to cut her out of the fun. But that wasn’t going to happen.
After all, even he acknowledged she was his battle-mate.
All was quiet now that Wulf had stopped strafing the ground with laser cannon. No Antareans were anywhere near their ship. Wulf had scared them into going to ground.
She scanned the sky. Wulf’s ship headed for the Prime landing area on the plateau above the catacombs. He should be able to read the signs to the entrance, since she knew the Prime military still used the symbology of their ancestors. Her sojourn through the maintenance tunnels on the Galanti confirmed that. Many of the traps were similar in nature. He would be fine, plus he could always touch her mind and ask if he needed help.
Like that would happen, she snorted with amusement. But he’d learn—eventually.
Compromise was a two-way path.
Mel turned back and connected the last firing device. She’d blow the ship by remote once she got to adequate cover.
She needed to get a move on. Surviving Antareans would soon crawl out of their holes and head to the supposed safety of their ship now that Wulf was not pursuing them from the sky.
Shrugging on her backpack, she tightened the straps across her chest. At a quick trot, she headed toward the lakeside tunnel entrance hidden behind a rock wall.
Feelings of hatred swept over her just as a laser shot sent dirt and bits of rock flying around her feet. Without hesitating she broke into a run, zigging and zagging, making herself as small a target as possible. Fifty meters would see her behind the rock wall. She could then reset the entrance trap and be safe from any pursuers.