I wasn’t afraid of Prillon warriors, or their scars. Still, I was not an idiot. I needed to hurry. Facing Prime Nial alone was one thing. I had no desire to state my case to anyone else. Ander was irrelevant to my mission.
I remained standing as I waited for the Prillon ruler to decide what to do with me, not wanting to add to my level of disrespect. Breaking into his home unannounced was enough to merit severe punishment. But nothing they might do to me would stop me. I’d already been in the worst hell in that Hive controlled base. A Coalition brig would be like a vacation in comparison. And Niobe was worth any risk.
He walked to stand in front of his desk, having already assessed me for danger and clearly finding me free of any to his person. I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted he found me non-threatening, or reassured that the reputation of the Elite Hunters preceded me, and that Prime Nial would assume I meant him no harm.
“I am aware that Elite Hunters are quick, but to get past my guards…” He shook his head and sat down on the edge of the grand desk. I had no doubt he had a contingency of protective warriors nearby. But if I intended to kill the Prime, I would have done so already. “How many did you go through?”
I did a mental calculation. “Nine.”
“Alive?”
“Of course.”
He nodded. “Impressive.”
I didn’t say anything, for it was an odd time to thank him for the compliment.
“Should I be impressed, or should I fire my security team?”
My presence here was not the fault of any of his warriors. “All due respect, Prime Nial, but I am an Elite Hunter with nearly twenty years of operational experience. Your guards were unconscious before they even realized I was here.”
His non-integrated eye—his left was completely silver from Hive integrations—widened. “Why are you in my home, Elite Hunter? Explain, and it better be damn good.”
“My mate is Vice Admiral Niobe.”
A smile softened his serious expression. He stood immediately and came forward to slap me on the shoulder. “I had not heard of the match. Congratulations.”
I nodded and smiled in return. I was pleased and I was not afraid to share that.
“But that does not explain your illegal and unauthorized entry into my home, nor your unauthorized transport.”
“Actually, sir, it does.”
He dropped down into one of the two chairs that were meant for visitors. The less than formal location eased the worry that I would be escorted away before I put in my request.
“This, I want to hear.” He indicated the chair beside his.
Because we were both tall—he much taller than I—the chairs were too close together. I pushed mine back before I sat. “You are mated.” I glanced at his red collar. “I assume you are fiercely protective of your mate.”
I didn’t state it as a question, for if I had, I would be insulting not the Prime, but a mated Prillon male. Not smart.
“Fiercely. Lady Deston is my world. And Ander’s.”
“How would you feel if your mate was a vice admiral, and part of the I.C.?”
He rubbed his jaw, studied me. I could see why he was Prime. He was thoughtful, analyzing. Considerate, but most likely ruthless. The description sounded a lot like Niobe.
“She is very important to me, to the Coalition.” His words of praise for my mate raised my hopes that he would cooperate with my demands.
“She’s I.C. She’s a commissioned officer in the Coalition. She works with Doctor Helion on a number of highly secretive programs.” I spoke as if he didn’t know this.
“I see.” The Prime leaned forward, his elbows on his knees where he sat, assessing me. “You can’t protect her as you wish.”
Smart, too.
“I assume you are aware of what happened on Latiri 4, of the vice admiral’s capture and transport of a Nexus unit?”
“Yes. That is highly protected intelligence, but as you were there, I cannot fault you for the knowledge.”