The sound of men entering the spa echoed down the hallway. “Handle the police,” he ordered his brothers. “Send a medic as soon as one arrives. I’m taking Melina someplace more comfortable.”
Without waiting for their response, he dead-lifted Melina into his arms then stood up.
Cradling her against his chest, he strode away from the bloody scene. He entered a large dimly lit room, then placed her on a massage table, carefully arranging her body so she’d be comfortable. After covering her with several fleecy blankets he found on a shelf, he pulled a chair to sit next to her.
He drew her right hand from under the covers and held it between his, chafing away the cold, rubbing away the imprint of the base of the glass that she’d held so tightly. He’d ask for the piece of crystal. He wanted to keep it; it had saved her life. No, she had saved her life, with her improvisation. Her coolness under pressure. Her training. Her reaching out to him for support—as any battle-mate would do.
She was his little warrior—and she meant more than the universe to him.
Huw was correct: Melina wouldn’t want him to hover, to surround her with too many safeguards. But it was so tempting, especially when set against the knowledge he could not survive without her. He kissed the hand he held, rubbing it against his cheek.
“I love you, Melina mine,” he whispered, choking back unaccustomed tears. His woman scared the living daylights out of him, she was too courageous.
Maren rushed into the room, his concern for his niece broadcasting loudly in the area. “How is she?”
“Unconscious,” Wulf murmured. “I sense the drug was an anesthetic of some sort.
She’s breathing normally. Her body has already gotten rid of most of it. This is just the aftermath.”
Wulf turned angry eyes toward the older man. “Who was the apayebo?” Maren sighed. His ghost pale face looked every single one of his sixty standard years. “It was another one of Darga Caradoc’s sons, Uly.”
“Uly? Wasn’t he a history professor?” Wulf’s brow creased with shock and disbelief.
“Yes.” Maren pulled up another chair and joined Wulf’s vigil by Melina’s side. “At the university.”
Wulf shook his head sadly. “Why?”
Maren shrugged. “Who knows how the rebels recruit the fanatics? The fact your father’s family line has produced several of the rebels, albeit not in the direct bloodline, is disturbing.”
“Melina thinks that there is more to this rebellion than just the spouting of the pure blood philosophy. What do you think?”
“I think your mate is probably correct in her conclusion,” Maren said. “Especially when they can recruit a pragmatic academic like Uly who knows that Prime blood has commingled with every humanoid species in the galaxy for eons, and that the last two centuries plus of isolationism was out of character for our people.” Wulf had learned, as all Prime youngsters had, that the DNA of the Caradoc family, or of any Prime family line, would show intermingling with Terran, Volusian and a few other humanoid bloodlines going back a few millennia. There was not a habitable planet in the Milky Way that hadn’t been explored by their Prime ancestors. Many of those explorers had brought back mixed humanoid children—or left them on the planets they had visited to add the Prime DNA into the planet’s particular bloodlines.
No Prime was a pure blood; it was a convenient fiction the purists used to promote nationalism.
“So, what are they after?” mused Wulf as he absently massaged Melina’s palm with his thumb.
“Power, most likely,” a soft, tired voice whispered. “Although those first two traitors I met—Prolow and Ullyn—really seemed to believe in the pure blood nonsense. Stupid dupes.”
“Gemate lubha!” breathed Wulf, as he bent over and kissed her. “You scared me, little one.”
“Sorry,” she tried to smile, “I didn’t plan this, you know.”
“I know, lubha. I know.” He kissed her once again. “I’m so sorry you’ve been drawn into this mess with the rebels.”
“Not your fault.” She yawned. “Uncle Tor, we’ll need to keep a close eye on the guests tonight. When I appear, alive and well, we might be able to read the emotions of any other rebels in attendance. Then we can have them followed and start rooting out their contacts.”
“We’re not going tonight!” Wulf said, a don’t-mess-with-me tone in his voice. “It is too dangerous.”
“We’re going,” she said, glaring at him. “You’ll be by my side—and we, as a team, will be strong. Not too many know about our abilities at this point, Wulf. We need to take advantage where we can.”
“She’s right, Wulf,” Maren said. “I don’t like it any better than you. But if we could start to trace connections, we have a better chance of figuring out who is behind this mess.”
Wulf glared at both of them, then shook his head. “I don’t like it—and if there were any other way … well, there isn’t.” He let out an angry snort. “We need to get a handle on this sooner, rather than later. I want to be able to go about without worrying that my mate is a target for a terrorist group and their hirelings.” Melina turned her hand within his and pulled it to her cheek, cradling it. “I’ll stay by your, Maren’s, or your brothers’ sides the whole evening. I promise.” She pulled his hand to her mouth and licked the inside of his wrist. The warm moisture made him shudder, reminding him of how her mouth had felt upon his body, of how she completed him. He’d protect her in spite of herself. He couldn’t lose the joy, the sense of belonging she gave him.
She whispered throatily, “Besides, you did want to see me in that dress and the other stuff you bought me, didn’t you?”
“It is my greatest wish,” he whispered as he leaned over to kiss her once more.
That and keeping you alive.
Chapter Seventeen
Later that evening
The ballroom of the Cejuru Prime Embassy on Tooh 2
“Whatever possessed me to pick out that dress?” Wulf hissed into Melina’s ear.
“Every man in the room is devouring you with his eyes. You’re practically naked.” His mate smiled at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I told you so, but no, you had to have this dress,” she waved a hand down the front of the ivory silk dress that hugged her body like a second skin, “and no other. I, on the other hand, wanted a nice black sheath, with a back and a front—and proper underwear.”
“I should’ve insisted on seeing under the cloak before we left the suite.” He glared at an over-eager Volusian who had found the nerve to approach them. The man’s pale blue gaze fixed on Melina’s breasts, or more likely her nipples showing through the thin pale fabric. “It looked so different on the computer screen.”
“Well, I—”
“I know,” he growled, “you told me so.” He placed his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side as if he could hide her from the eyes of every man in the room. He smelled their envy. He hated them all, including his horndog brothers. “Are you even wearing underclothes?”
Snuggling against him, she snorted back a laugh, “Yes, if you can call that tissue thin transparent teddy you bought me underwear.”
He placed his lips near her ear. “I plan to take that little nothing off—with my teeth—later.” He nibbled at her lobe. She shivered in response. He smiled. She was so sensitive to his every touch.
“It’s always later with you, Wulf,” she whispered back, taking a nip of his chin. “I like more immediate action.”
“I’d be very happy to leave now and take care of my gemate’s needs.”
“You just want to leave so no man tries to ask me to dance again.” She pinched his waist. “The last man is probably still running, looking over his shoulder.” Wulf snorted back a laugh. “He did look like a scared plains hopper, didn’t he?” She mock-glared at him, her eyes betraying her amusement. “Wulf, I swear the man wet himself when you growled at him.”
He threw back his head and shouted with laughter.
The noise in the room stopped as everyone turned and stared at him.
He looked down at Melina. “Why is everyone looking at me now?”
“You don’t laugh out loud like that very often,” she explained, stroking his jaw.
“Plus, the Prime as a whole have the reputation of being humorless.”
“And are we?” he asked, his shoulders tensing. His hand rubbed small soothing circles on her bare back. Well, at least the motion soothed him.
“No, I think you just have a different sense of humor than most,” she replied. “I like it anyway.”
His shoulders relaxed. He hadn’t realized that her answer would mean so much to him. Diew knew his sense of humor had resurrected itself since he’d met her.
Huw and Iolyn approached them.
“Have I mentioned how much I like that dress, sister?” Huw said, his eyes roaming over her from head to toe and back again.
“Ten times, brother,” Wulf snarled. “And for also the tenth time—How would you like me to rearrange your face?”