Ragnar - Lord of Jaegar

by Sasha Gold

  “So, it’s true,” she murmured. “You’re a wolf.” He could be lying, but she suspected strongly that he wasn’t. If there truly was a wolf inside him, she likely would not survive this. She’d heard stories of Jaegarian men, the ruling class especially. Many had a rare genetic trait of wolf-like characteristics. She’d even heard some of the shifter stories, but figured them to be nothing more than old husband’s tales. She hoped she was right.

  A light flickered behind his eyes as he held her in his gaze.

  “I’ll give you the keys but I won’t unlock the cell.”

  He nodded. “Good choice. Especially if you’re afraid of me.”

  Clearly, he still wanted to provoke her even though she was offering to help him. She shook her head. “I’m not afraid. But I’m not a fool.”

  “I’m Ragnar Helmsgaard, of the royal family of Jaegar. I don’t kill women and certainly not children.”

  Was he telling the truth? A member of the royal family? He certainly carried himself like an aristocrat. He had a noble bearing and a commanding air about him, but that didn’t mean he was a prince. He might simply be arrogant.

  “Come to the bars and position yourself so I can reach your lock.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest. His hands looked awful. Angry and purple. So painful looking she had phantom pain, feeling as if her own wrists were bound. What mischief was this? A sort of sympathy pain. Nymphs spoke of feeling their children’s pain and their mate’s too, but Nymphs were dim-witted women who exaggerated everything.

  As she drew closer, her hand throbbed. Pain radiated to her shoulder. She tossed the keys between the bars and backed away. Rubbing her wrists, she searched for a sign of why it ached, but saw nothing. Why would she feel sympathy pain for this man? A Jaegarian? A murderer?

  A moment later, he had both cuffs off as well as the shackles around his feet. Rubbing his hands together, he smiled at her. “You see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  He tilted his head toward the front of the ship. “Were you expecting an escort?”

  Natasha followed his gaze to the front of the ship. Flying across her path was a fighter ship, flown by a sister-pilot. She watched in disbelief as the sleek combat-ship turned in a slow, graceful curve. The aircraft flew toward them, guns raised, aimed directly at her ship.

  Chapter Four

  Ragnar

  The little Andromedin girl was cool under fire. He’d give her that. She deployed the cloaking device and spun in a downward spiral, easily evading the shots of the other ship. The girl seemed to sense well in advance where the next shot would be fired, and she had the ship further and further out of harm’s way.

  Why would her fellow pilots shoot at her? There had to be a good reason. Perhaps his enemies knew where he was.

  To add to his bewilderment, why did this small girl smell so good? He wrestled with the urge to move closer, to inhale her scent. He’d like to lick the nape of her neck, the tender spot under that severe twist of hair. A chignon, his mother would call the swirl of tresses. He’d like to tug the pins from her hair and see what she looked like with her hair tumbled past her narrow shoulders.

  It was all wrong. Clearly. Maybe he’d been struck on the head during the Blood Games. He was addled. That was the reason the small Andromedin female seemed attractive.

  He’d been concussed once before when he’d brawled with his brother, Gunnar. A severe clubbing with a tree trunk for two minutes somehow had him seeing stars for three days. It had all been in good fun. He and his two brothers, Gunnar and Thorsen, honed their battle skills by fighting each other. Gunnar often mentioned how muddled Ragnar had been after the fight. That was the only explanation now. A blow to the head had to be the reason for his attraction to the Maiden.

  He worked the bars apart. The titanium beams bent easily under his grip. He could have simply stepped out of his cell, but decided against doing so just yet. The girl might do well in a dog-fight, but she might panic if her seven-foot captive freed himself. Best to wait until she’d put some distance between them and the other combat ship.

  The girl called flight control on her home planet, but there was no response.

  “Flight Control,” she repeated, for the fourth time. “I have an emergency. Please reply.”

  A shot blazed through the air, narrowly missing them. The hostile ship had found a way around the cloak. Somehow, they knew exactly where Natasha was again. He saw her reach up and quickly key a command. Many of the ship’s system shut off.

  More shots were fired, each missing them by a larger distance. Ragnar chuckled. This was what happened when you let a female fly a combat ship and shoot guns.

  Ragnar leaned against the bars. He eyed the basket of fruit that had tumbled from the table. Andromedins had such strange foodstuffs. Not that they could grow much. Most of their food they imported, but they had developed sophisticated biospheres, specifically to raise their fruits and vegetables. Natasha tilted the plane, turning sharply. One of the fruits rolled toward him, but stopped just out of reach.

  “I had to shut off the main engines. It was the only way. I’m taking the ship down. Doranna is just ahead. It’s overrun by wild animals, some deadly, but at least the other ship won’t follow us. Don’t worry, I will keep you safe.”

  He smiled. The tiny female was going to protect him?

  The fruit rolled a little closer. Ragnar stretched but couldn’t reach it. Growling, he wrenched the bars further apart, picked up the fruit and inspected it. Pinkish, with a slight fuzz, it had a stem of some sort sticking out the top. He rubbed the surface with his thumb and brushed his mouth across the skin. The fuzz tickled his lips, but the aroma of the fruit was sweet.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you,” she said.

  “That’s comforting.” He sniffed the fruit again. Delicious. What was this thing? His stomach growled. “Thank you, Captain. I’m relieved.” After he bent the bars back into place, he wandered to the bench in the rear of the cell and sat down.

  “I think the ship is gone. I don’t understand what happened. I can’t continue until I get to the bottom of this.”

  “Seems wise.” He took a bite of the fruit, effectively cutting it in half, blinking in surprise to find an enormous pit inside the juicy flesh.

  “The animals of Doranna are dangerous,” she said. “We have a museum on Andromeda filled with specimens. I remember visiting as a child.”

  “Is that so?” He wanted to ask her if that was last week but decided against teasing her about being a child. She’d need to concentrate to land the ship, and keep her wits about her to stay out of range of the other pilot.

  A lush, green planet came into view.

  “It looks so beautiful,” Natasha murmured.

  Ragnar finished his fruit and examined the strange-looking pit. It looked like a rock. The only fruit native to Jaegar was grapes, and only some had seeds. They were small, inconspicuous things, not like this seed. He put it in his pocket. When he returned home, he’d plant the pit. With luck, he’d grow some of the delicious fruit for himself and his future mate. He imagined presenting her with a basket brimming with the fragrant offering.

  “Not like Andromeda,” she said softly, as if talking to herself.

  He knew little about Andromeda aside from the Blood Games. He’d come to the cold, inhospitable planet on a whim, a distraction from his royal duties and the quest for his fated mate. He’d spent the last five years engaged in various battles. For some reason he’d been drawn to visit Andromeda. His mother encouraged him, telling him there had to be a good reason for his impulse to travel to the small unpleasant planet.

  “We don’t have many green spaces,” she said.

  Her voice sounded small. Sad. A wave of protectiveness came over him as he wondered what might have occurred in her life to cause pain. Whatever had hurt her in the past was just that, the past. The sadness confirmed his decision to take her to Jaegar. She might not like it at first, but he knew before long she’d
see that Jaegar was far superior to Andromeda.

  He tried to imagine the girl arriving on his planet. She would cause plenty of commotion. No one would know what to make of Natasha. What would he do with her?

  “We’ll be landing soon.” She got up and moved toward the cell slowly, cautiously, as if expecting him to burst free at any moment. “Without engines. I’ve never had to do this before. I can’t take the chance that the engine signature would be detected.”

  He peered past her, through the window. She’d slowed the ship. It tilted in a lazy circle, slowly descending over the Dorannan plains. They were still at cruising altitude but well within the Dorannan atmosphere.

  He arched a brow. “What haven’t you done before? Land a ship?”

  She flushed. “I know how to land. I’ve never had to abort a mission. Or land without main engines.”

  He shrugged. “It happens.”

  She drew a deep breath. The look of uncertainty faded. “As the captain of this ship, and the person responsible for your well-being, I believe I should free you from your cell.”

  “Because you’re aborting the mission?”

  “Correct. If something happens to me, I cannot leave you imprisoned.”

  Her voice trembled, despite her resolute tone. Inside his chest, he felt her fear. Of him. The planet of Doranna. Failing her mission. He sensed her despair as strongly as if it were his own. She took a step closer. Clasped between her fingers, the keys glinted in the soft light. She lifted her other hand to her throat but quickly let it fall to her side.

  “You’re not going to tear my throat, are you?” she whispered.

  He eyed her neck. The notion of nipping the tender skin, licking her and inhaling her infuriatingly sweet scent made his cock throb. If she were anyone other than an innocent Maiden, she’d have noticed his raging arousal.

  “I won’t hurt you, Natasha.” He said the words as much to her as to himself. He didn’t want to harm her, but he did want to touch her. Sniff her. See what lay beneath that mud-colored pilot’s garb.

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. “It’s the humane thing to do.”

  She stepped closer and held out the keys. Her hand trembled. He put his hand through the bars and raised it, palm up. A flash of fear lit her eyes. She clenched her jaw, leaned closer and dropped the keys. Their eyes locked. He could tell she held her breath, waiting to see if he’d unlock his cage and charge after her.

  “Go on, little one. Land your ship. I won’t bite.”

  She let out the breath she’d been holding and turned away. She manned the controls as he unlocked the cell door. Tossing the keys to a table, he sat. He watched her as she guided the ship down. Natasha knew how to fly. He’d give her that. He knew how to fly, too, but his skills were basic and clumsy compared to hers. She brought the ship’s speed back, balancing it perfectly so that they wouldn’t lose altitude too fast, but would land with as little speed as possible.

  A grassy savannah lay below them, and Ragnar watched as she worked the controls. A slight tremble in one hand was the only sign of her distress. She set the ship down gently, but the craft tilted in the last seconds of flight and an explosion sounded outside.

  Ragnar jumped up and crossed the cabin. With a kick, he sent the ship’s hatch flying to the ground. Smoke from the wing wafted into the cabin, making Natasha cough. He half-lifted, half dragged her out the door. He left her beside the plane. The wing tip burned. The flames would spread to the ship and likely cause an even larger explosion if he didn’t act quickly.

  He wrapped his hands around the wing’s fuselage and tore it free. After he tossed it aside, he scanned the ship for fire or smoke but saw nothing. The rest of the structure appeared undamaged.

  “We have to call for help,” she said.

  She turned to climb back into ship, but he stepped in front of her, blocking the way.

  “No.”

  She looked up at him wide-eyed. The silence stretched between them.

  “What do you mean, no?” she whispered.

  “You’re not in charge of this mission any more. If your people know we’re here, they’ll come back to kill both of us.”

  She shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  He watched her eyes, noting the way fear flickered and then vanished. “You must have enemies.”

  “Doesn’t everybody have enemies?”

  “Not if you kill them.”

  Her hand flew to her throat. She paled. “I saw what you did to those men.”

  He shrugged and then turned and climbed into the ship, moving into the depths of the cockpit. He’d have to send the distress signal on an antiquated channel, one that would, hopefully, transmit without being noticed by Natasha’s people. The message he sent, he addressed to his brother, Gunnar. When he finished, he turned to face her, folding his arms across his chest.

  “You can’t keep me from calling my people, Helmsgaard.”

  “Brave words, little girl. A moment ago, you were trembling, talking about the sentries. You think I’m going to let you contact your people?”

  She folded her arms across her chest, mimicking his posture, and lifted her chin in response. Her gesture accentuated her breasts and he stared with stupefied admiration. The girl actually had breasts. He hadn’t noticed them before. He laughed softly.

  “And please, call me Ragnar.”

  She followed his gaze, and let out a soft huff of surprise. Immediately she dropped her arms and scowled at him. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  He smiled. “How will you call anyone without a radio?”

  Her anger faded. A new expression took its place. “What do you mean?”

  Keeping his gaze fixed on hers, he reached down to the control panel and pulled it free. The metal frame gave easily, no match for his iron grip. He dragged the controls into the middle of the ship’s cabin and let them fall at his feet.

  She lifted her hand to her weapon, wrapping her fingers around the grip. “If you try to hurt me…”

  “What will you do, little one?”

  “I’ll shoot you,” she whispered.

  “You won’t.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do. I can see what you’re thinking. That you’re afraid. You’ve never shot a person and you don’t know if you could stand to hurt someone.”

  “It won’t bother me.”

  He shrugged his shoulder. “And it won’t bother me, either. The sentries tried to shoot me. Their bullets didn’t work.”

  She paled and took a step back. “You’re lying.”

  “Am I?”

  Her eyes clouded with doubt.

  “They gave you the same weapon they issue the sentries. Why is that, I wonder? Are they trying to get rid of you? Have you displeased a superior officer?”

  She let out a small sound of dismay and shook her head. “It’s not possible.”

  He saw that his words had hit their mark. They left her bewildered. Her hand dropped to her side. Ragnar moved quickly, closing the distance between them and grabbing her. She shrieked. He spun her around. Pinned her to his chest. She tried to bring her elbow to his ribs, but he held her too tightly. When that didn’t work, she jerked back, trying to hit him with the back of her head.

  He chuckled when the blow landed on his chest.

  “Nice move. It might work on your planet, but not on Jaegar.”

  She thrashed but he overpowered her easily while he removed her gun belt. “Your people shouldn’t send a little girl to transport bad men like me. It’s a risk.”

  “You damn bastard,” she hissed. “I should have left you in shackles.”

  “You’re so small. So helpless. Why did they put such a tiny thing in harm’s way?”

  He lifted her, growling when she landed a kick to his shin. “Be a good girl, Natasha. There are animals out there that would like to devour you. They’ll come out once the sun sets, hunting for prey.”

  “I’d rather be out there than inside
this ship with you.”

  “Not that you’d be a good meal. Just gristle and a few bones to clean the teeth.”

  She landed another kick as he walked her over to the cell. He snarled. When he approached the cell, she arched her back, her struggle becoming more frantic.

  “Don’t lock me up, you over-sized brute.”

  He set her down and stepped out, slamming the door behind him. The clang of the door made the bars reverberate. She put her hand to her mouth and drew a shuddering breath. Once again, he sensed her emotions. The fear he saw was more than just the fear of the cell.

  “You’re going to leave and…” She hiccupped. “And leave me in this cell. They’ll never find me.”

  Her terror registered inside him. His wolf stirred. Why, he couldn’t imagine. The girl meant nothing to him. She was sharp-tongued. Arrogant. Worst of all, as small as a ten-year-old. Could his wolf feel remorse? Pity? In his thirty years, it never had before.

  “I won’t leave you here,” he said gruffly.

  She drew herself up. He watched as she composed herself, a flush of embarrassment coming over her features. Her skin pinked.

  His gaze drifted down her slender frame. Her trousers hugged her hips in a way he hadn’t noticed. Beneath the crisply ironed cuffs he glimpsed delicate ankles.

  “You’re a monster and a murderer.” She snorted. “A murdering monster.”

  He rubbed his jaw as he studied the way her shirt draped over her chest. “Yeah? Not anything you need to worry about. Women are scarce on our planet. We’re not in the habit of killing women or children.”

  He eyed her appreciatively, wondering if she was losing some of her childlike looks. Her lips were lush and enticing in a way he hadn’t noticed before. Was it possible she’d changed in the last few hours? He wanted to ask, but decided against it. Her haughty expression suggested she might not feel like discussing anything with him. Aggravating woman. He hoped that one day, when he found his mate, she’d be the opposite of the fiery female glaring at him.

  “The sun’s going down,” he muttered. “I’m going to put the door back in place and get ready for night.”