Iolyn choked back a laugh. “She said that would be your reaction.”
“She knew I’d be mad, and she did it anyway?”
“Uh huh.” Iolyn laughed at Wulf’s look of disconcertion. “She said, and I quote,
‘I’m not going to waste my breath arguing with the stubborn man. If he thinks he is going to try to go around me and endanger himself doing a job I am far more qualified to do, he can think again.’”
Wulf stared at his brother. “She didn’t trust me, Iolyn. I had good reasons why I should have been the one to do the EVI with Huw. The condition of the space dock alone should have convinced her that sometimes size is more important than experience,” growled Wulf. His voice quavered. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.” He could’ve lost her.
“And she had good reasons for doing the EVI. She read your mind, you know. You had already made the decision to do it—and you didn’t discuss it with her, either. You keep forgetting, as she pointed out to Huw and me, that she is your equal on this ship,” Iolyn said, heaving a disgusted sigh. “And, why was this any scarier than her crawling through booby-trapped, pirate-infested tunnels or fighting off a whole ship of Antareans on Obam IV? Brother, you are going to have to trust her judgment. She has made it this far in the military and managed to stay alive. Something that her enemies cannot say.” His gaze fixed on the air lock’s pressure readings, Wulf ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. “I know. I know. But I just found her—and I’m afraid … well, I’m just afraid. She is so brave and fearless it terrifies—and pleases—me. She is a perfect mate for me and my way of life, but the thought of losing her paralyzes me. It would be like losing a part of myself that I never knew I’d even missed before meeting her.”
“I don’t know these feelings you have, Wulf,” Iolyn said, a look of commiseration on his face, “but I understand them. The poets of our planet have often written of the feeling of oneness with our bonded mates. I only hope to experience it one day.” Wulf laughed a short, rusty sound. “And I can’t wait to see how you’ll cope with the fear of loss of your woman. I’d rather face down an entire platoon of Antareans than risk losing her.”
The air pressurization readings finally reached one hundred percent.
“About damn time.” He ran into the air lock. All activity within stopped. It was like being in the eye of a cyclonic dust storm. Nothing moved. All eyes fixed on him.
Then Melina moved. With a muttered curse that had the crewman closest to her laughing, she shrugged off the last of the shredded EVI suit.
Wulf’s gaze frantically swept over her body, noting the cuts. The blood. The dirt.
More blood. The jagged tears in her uniform. And even more blood.
The knowledge that under her clothing there would be even more cuts, abrasions and bruises had him growling, a low, constant tone that built in crescendo as he stalked toward her. He couldn’t help it. She was hurt—and open to him now. He felt her pain—
her exhaustion—and some other emotion he couldn’t quite place.
He stopped one foot shy, then walked around her, marking once more, in even more detail, everywhere she’d been hit. Only her face was unscathed and only because of the extra protection of the titanium-shelled hood. He wouldn’t look at the helmet she wore.
Any serious dents in it would push him over the edge of the erratic fear/anger combination he struggled to control.
Coming around to her front, he stopped, his hands fisted at his sides. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but was afraid he’d hurt her even more.
“Where’s the damn medical team?” he gritted out, his jaw so tight he could barely open it to talk. His gaze never left her; he was afraid that if he looked away, she’d disappear.
“On their way,” someone said.
Her eyes, her jewel green eyes that had mere hours ago been drenched in the pleasure they’d shared stared back at him, dulled with pain, exhaustion, and the emotion that he now could clearly read as fear.
Agony threatened to drive him to his knees. “Melina mine,” he rasped, uncaring that they had an interested audience. “Please … please, don’t be afraid of me.” His eyes moistened with tears of regret that he’d caused her to fear him. He unclenched the fists at his side and held out his arms. “Come to me, little one.” Tears streaked down her face as she walked into his embrace. Her head lay on his chest, her cheek resting against his heart and the symbol that bound them. Her arms wound around his waist and held onto him as tightly as he held onto her.
“You are so angry at me,” she mumbled into his shirt, rubbing her cheek over his heart, which pounded in time with hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t realize how much my going outside would affect you.” She leaned her head back and looked into his eyes. “This is stuff I did—do—all the time in the military. I just … well, I just wanted to prove to you and the crew that I can pull my weight.”
“I know, gemate lubha.”
Wulf pulled her closer to his body, wanting to absorb the shudders that rippled over her slight frame, to smother her with love and protection so that she never hurt again. The fact he was the cause of her distress tore him apart inside. Other than the time she’d cried for the death of her parents, he had never seen her cry. He never wanted to be the cause of her tears again.
He brushed a kiss across her forehead, soothing away the worry lines he’d placed there. “I know. Please have patience with me. Most of my anger is at myself. Iolyn and Huw keep telling me I need to cut you some slack and trust you to do your job.” He pushed her head gently back to his chest and rubbed his cheek across the top of her head. “In the future, please come to me. Trust me to discuss things with you. Argue with me. Call me an alpha-male throwback. But, please, don’t go behind my back.” He let out a heavy sigh and whispered for her ears alone. “I woke up and you weren’t there.
Not physically. Not mentally. Not even empathically. I was so afraid. I thought I’d lost you—again.”
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Sighing, she nestled against him, the shudders that had racked her body gone now.
“I know.” He kissed her hair, inhaling the fragrance that was uniquely hers and found a deep well of calm into which his residual anger and fear dissipated. They stood there for a few seconds, sharing in the calm that being fully open to each other always brought a bonded pair.
“Wulf?”
She shifted within his arms, but he refused to let her go. “What, Melina mine?” he mumbled against the silk of her hair, one hand caressing the nape of her neck.
“I hurt. I’m dirty. And I’m tired.” She let go of his waist and placed her hands on his chest, pushing until he gave her enough space to look him in the eyes again. “Take me to our quarters. I need you—and a shower and some sleep.”
“I want the doctor to check you over,” he said. “To calm my nerves.” She leaned back within the circle of his arms and studied his face. “Only for you.”
“Thank you, lubha.” He kissed her forehead.
Wulf turned her within his arms, then lifted her against his chest. “Send the doctor to my quarters, Iolyn. Huw, you are off-duty until we go to red alert.” As he reached the door to the corridor, he added, “Iolyn, you are in command. I’ll get Melina settled and then come to relieve you.”
Both brothers nodded, grins wide on their faces, their thoughts as clear as his own.
He’d have to talk to them about keeping their minds off what he and Melina might be up to in the privacy of their quarters.
“Wulf?” Melina’s hand stroked his still-tense jaw. “Don’t you have something to say to our EVI team? Huw and I could not have done the job without their support. When the meteor shower hit, they grabbed and pulled us in, endangering themselves in the process.”
Renewed fear pierced the relief at having her in his arms. Diew! He shuddered. He really had almost lost her.
“You didn’t. I’m here. Safe.”
“Next time you think about going into danger. I want to be the one at your side. It was the not knowing what was happening. The not being there to help you that scared me the most.”
“I understand.”
“Remember, we’re stronger together.”
“But we can’t discount our individual strengths either.”
“I understand what you are saying—and I’ll promise to try to be more reasonable and less overprotective.”
“You are kind of cute when you get all growly, though.” She flashed a mischievous grin at him and then spoiled it by yawning.
He kissed her. Abruptly, he realized that everyone in the room stood staring at them with silly smiles on their faces. These same men were the only reason she and his brother were alive.
“Wulf,” she urged. “Don’t you have something to say?” He swept a gentle finger over her cheek and rasped out, “I will want to know what happened, all of it, later. Once you are rested.”