Prime Obsession (32 page)

Wulf grabbed Huw by the shoulder. “Wait, brother. This can be done later. We need to get Nadia to a doctor.”

Huw grimaced, then nodded. He did manage to aim one good kick at the beta’s ribs.

Wulf smiled at the groan of pain. Yeah, he’d make sure both Huw and he had a chance to talk with the rotten coward. Maybe the slug—as Melina called him—would die while trying to escape.

“Wulf,” Melina said, a warning note in her voice. “He must go in front of the judiciary—and then the Alliance Military tribunal. He kidnapped two Alliance officers.”

“Sister,” Huw protested. “Can’t we just rough him up a bit?”

“That doesn’t bother me, Huw,” Melina said, eyeing Wulf. “But my mate wants to kill him.”

“So do I,” Huw said. He turned to Wulf, “If
I
can’t kill him,
you
can’t.”

“Fine.” Wulf turned toward Melina. “Go over to Nadia. Keep an eye on the other one. I sense a team of our crew coming up to help. Huw and I will go further up the path and teach this man a lesson—leaving him to live to stand trial.” Barely.

His
gemate
pursed her lips, but nodded and walked over to Nadia and sat down, her pistol aimed at the rebel lying on the ground, trussed up like a game bird waiting for the spit.

Wulf grabbed one arm of the beta-slug and Huw, the other, then they dragged the rebel along the path.

Smiling grimly, Wulf said, “Huw, I’ll give you three standard minutes to teach this turd a lesson. Then I’ll take one minute. After that, he can look forward to rotting on one of the Alliance’s frozen prison planets for the rest of his life, serving as a fuck toy to the other prisoners.”

“Sounds good to me,” Huw muttered. “There is not one portion of Nadia’s body that wasn’t bruised. Her forehead was split open and she has a knot on the back of her head.

The man deserves eternal butt-fucking for that alone.”

“He beat Melina’s marking. Eternal butt-fucking is almost too good for him.” Wulf stopped and dropped the arm he held. “But I promised Melina we would let him live. So be it. Avenge your woman, brother.”

“She’s not mine,” Huw retorted, then proceeded to beat the shit out of the man who’d harmed Melina and Nadia.

Wulf shook his head and muttered, “You protest too much.” The future would be very interesting indeed.

Later that evening, Caradoc family residence

Wulf entered his suite of rooms. Passing through the sitting area, he entered the dimly lit bedroom.

Melina sat up in bed, wearing one of the sheer night garments he had bought for her.

Her bruises showed faintly through the pale green silk. He rubbed his chest, his
gemat
marking aching in sympathy for the abuse the rebel slug had perpetrated upon hers.

“How are you feeling,
lubha
?” He stripped his clothing off as he approached the bed.

She pulled the covers aside. He crawled in and pulled her against his side.

“I’m sore,” she said, turning to him and placing a kiss on his shoulder. “But I need you to love me. To make me feel better.” She smiled at him. “I think you need to kiss every single bruise.”

“I can do that.” He stroked a finger across the swell of her breasts, exposed by the deeply cut bodice. She shivered in response.

“Wulf?” Her gaze quizzical. She cupped his chin with one had, pulling his face to hers. “I sense something bad has happened. What is it?”

“Father and I went to interrogate Beria and Luka further about their involvement with the purists.” He paused and sighed heavily. “They were both dead.” Melina gasped. “How? Who?”

“They were poisoned,” Wulf said. “Probably in their evening meal. As for who, isn’t it obvious?”

“The purists.”

“Yes. Probably payback for the loss of so many of their men.” Melina laid her head against his shoulder and idly stroked his thigh with a finger.

“So, the leader of the purists is able to adapt and plan.”

“Looks like it,” Wulf said, as he began to remove the delicate confection that she wore. “I still think you are correct in surmising that the rebels have very little military training—which gives us an advantage. But the leader—”

“The leader has inside connections at the highest level and the ability to kill political prisoners in a maximum security cell,” Melina concluded.

“Yes,” Wulf whispered against her hair. “Such a man could prove to be a formidable foe.”

“Let’s worry about that—later,” she whispered against his lips.

Wulf smiled and bit her lower lip so very gently. “It is always later with you,
lubha
.”

“For some things, my love,” she replied, “but not for this.” She stroked his glowing
gemat
marking. “I always love you now.”

The End

About the Author:

Monette Michaels is the pen name for a multi-published author of suspense/thrillers.

She's been married to the love of her life for far longer than she cares to remember. Her home is in Central Indiana.

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