I admired his need to keep her safe, respected him for it, but it hadn’t been necessary with me. I wouldn’t see her harmed. But perhaps I had. Perhaps I’d hurt her in the worst way. Not physically, but emotionally, and he knew that. He had a farking collar about his neck so that meant he’d at least sensed her reaction to seeing me again, hearing my voice.
I didn’t need a collar to know that the gasp I’d heard was full of pain. Surprise. Regret. And I knew by the way she clung to him for reassurance, for safety, that she was his now, too.
He’d instantly called in guards, then tucked Miranda inside his quarters. Yes, he was a protective bastard. By the look on her face, she’d been upset—I wasn’t sure if it had been directed at me or for the big guy’s bossiness—and hadn’t been happy to be left in the quarters. Alone. I’d seen the collar about her neck, noticed it wasn’t the same color as his.
He’d leaned down, whispered something in her ear, then kissed her once more. Before my eyes, I saw her soften, bend to his wishes. She glanced at me once and tipped her chin up
in that fiery defiance I knew so well, then the door slid shut between us. Yes, she was pissed at me.
The guards had arrived then. Two Prillon warriors, one who Trist had ordered to remain outside of his quarters, the other to follow us down the hallway. Trist hadn’t said a word, just pointed and began to walk. If he was leaving Miranda alone, then he was confident she was safe. I might not like him, but I was confident in his protection of his mate.
Fark, not his mate. My mate.
The ion pistol at his hip, and the one the additional guard had held, had been enough to get me moving. I was the outsider here even though it was my mate I’d walked away from. I was repeating it over and over in my head because it was true, regardless of the situation.
Four hours I’d been stuck. Trapped. Waiting with nothing to do but get angrier and angrier. At myself. Not her. Never her.
I paced, looked out the window at the never-ending expanse of space, the distance that had been between me and Miranda since I’d completely messed things up.
Was he now fucking Miranda? Had he put me here to go back to her, to make her forget me? When I got my hands on him I’d—
The door opened and he stepped in.
“You are Valck Brax of Trion. A doctor, but it seems your duties have gone beyond medicine.” The Prillon had to be over seven feet tall. He had the angular features of his race, the light coloring. He also had the stiff bearing of a fighter, of one who was always in control, always in command. It was required of those who served on battleships, for they wouldn’t handle the emotional toll otherwise.
“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time, scanning my file?” I countered, crossing my arms over my chest.
“We have lost a cargo ship to the Hive. Your past exploits have not been a high priority.”
My shoulders went back at the seriousness of the problem at hand. “Has it been recovered?” I asked. While Miranda was the most important thing in my life, I knew she was safe. He wouldn’t be here otherwise. But there were many fighters on a cargo ship. Lives were at stake. I would not diminish their service by being petty.
“No. I would not discuss this with you, but I see you have a top level I.C. clearance.”
“I do.” This Prillon didn’t fark around. And if he knew my clearance level, his had to be… higher.
“There have been multiple attacks since the loss of Battleship Varsten in Sector 436. For now, we have I.C. operatives and our best science teams working on the problem. I have a few hours to take care of Miranda. It is time for me to focus on my mate and what is best for her.”
My jaw clenched when he said the words my mate. He emphasized the words and I had no doubt he had done so purposely. Yes, he had her. He was her match. He wore the collar and so did she. While she hadn’t made the claim official—I knew she had thirty days to decide—she belonged to him. She was his to protect. His to bed. His to seduce and learn and convince her to accept his claim.
I was the outsider here. I just had to change that. But I had a huge Prillon standing in the way of me somehow making Miranda understand I’d been wrong.
“Shouldn’t Miranda be the judge of what’s best for her?” I countered, stepping toward him.
“I know what she wants, what she needs. She has entrusted me with her life and her happiness.”
I quirked a brow. The laid back, easy going female I knew? The one who’d said she wouldn’t keep me from my work, that we were casual and fuck buddies? “Has she? The same way she begged me to take her? Touch her? Kiss her?”
“You did nothing but cause her pain. You will not get near her.”
“The only way I touched her was for her pleasure.” I shouldn’t have said the words, knew they were wrong, knew I was being an ass, but I wanted to take a stab at this arrogant warrior who had what was mine. My female. My mate. She was mine. “She loved every minute of it, Prillon. She’s mine.”
His eyes narrowed and every line in his body tensed. I didn’t even have time to blink before his fist connected with my face.
Fark! I stumbled back, put my hand to my nose. Broken. Blood poured down my chin and onto my shirt. It hurt like hell, but it wasn’t going to stop me, nothing a ReGen wand wouldn’t fix. But a wand wouldn’t fix what I’d broken with Miranda. Only words, actions on my part would heal her.
His breathing was ragged, his fists clenched. “She does not want what you offer. She craves structure. Dominance. She craves reassurance that she will be valued above all others. She was nothing to you, Trion. She chose to leave you. She chose to come to me.”
Every word he said was like a gut punch, the pain worse than a physical blow would have been. True. It was all true. She had chosen to leave me, to find him. To belong to him. That was as direct a punch as the one to my nose. “I had a job to do, a duty to help my people.”