Defying the General (Primarian Mates Book 4)

by Maddie Taylor

  Without a career to fall back on, who would she be? She couldn’t go to work in the family business. Following Trask around on missions was out. Adria would be busy at the clinic. Where did that leave her?

  And where did it leave Trask? As the only man among his fellow warriors who didn’t go home at night to a growing happy family, how long before he became bitter and grew to resent her? Wouldn’t it be better to end it now, after a few weeks, then endure years of disappointment?

  If he knew there was no chance, he would be gallant and say it didn’t matter, when it did. Could she live with the guilt of depriving him of the gift of a child? And what of the joy of finding his true mate, one fated by their Maker to be the perfect match for him. He should have that chance as well.

  Movement on her right caught her eye. A familiar figure was climbing the hill. Lana didn’t say a word as she approached and took a seat. After the last time, she really had nothing to say.

  “I saw you sitting here and couldn’t go without clearing the air between us.”

  “Go where?” she asked, unable to stay aloof.

  “Home. I leave on the Odyssey tomorrow with the others.”

  The redheaded chief was as stunning as ever, with flawless porcelain skin and the same bright blue eyes. There were no outward signs she had transformed as far as Lana could see.

  “What about your mate, Eryn?”

  “We aren’t mates, not even close.” She picked a handful of grass and let it idly sift through her fingers. “This was hard for me, Lana. I took it out on you, and the others, and Ram—mostly, Ram. Though he is hardly innocent in all of this and in my mind the end doesn’t justify the means.”

  “Even when it fulfills our mission?” She couldn’t keep from asking, which circled back to how people, whether human or Primarian, do desperate things when it seems they have no other choice.

  She didn’t reply, and Lana knew from her silence, and the little lines between her auburn brows that Eryn had already asked herself this question and struggled with the answer. As she stared down at her empty hand, her voice faded, almost to a whisper. “He hates me now and wants no part of me.”

  “And you can just leave? Like that?”

  “No, he is requesting dissolution of our bond.”

  “I’ve heard the term.” From Trask’s uncle Aylan in the courtyard that night. “I assume it’s the Primarian version of divorce.”

  “Basically. Although, from what I’m told, it doesn’t happen here—ever. But the new treaty makes it possible for all former captives to leave if they want. I put in my written request to leave immediately, and Ram can make his formal request to be unmated through the council.”

  And she could do the same, leave on the Odyssey in the morning, and set Trask free.

  Eryn looked at her suddenly. “Why all these questions? Surely you aren’t considering—”

  “I’m curious, no more.”

  She didn’t nod or look away, only stared at her for a long, considering moment. “I regret what I said in the park that day, Lana. Truly. We were all trying to cope as best we could. Me, you, Eva, and the others, all did what we thought we must to survive.”

  “I understood, Eryn. Don’t think of it again.”

  After brushing her hands together, she rose to her feet. “I better go check in. It will be strange sleeping in my old quarters tonight.”

  “I didn’t think you left until tomorrow morning.”

  “We do, at dawn. Which means we’re all on board and ready to go before dawn.” She gazed down at her sadly, which for a woman so desperate to be off this world only a short time ago, was quite telling. Had her warrior gotten to her too? “If our paths don’t cross again, Hartman, be well, and I hope you and your general have lots of brown-eyed blonde-haired babies,” she chuckled, though without humor. “Wouldn’t that shock the shit out of them?”

  Lana watched as Eryn walked down the hill and merged with the steady stream of people making their way toward the shuttle port—most of them human females. Trask wasn’t due back until tomorrow, long after they left. Lana knew this was her chance. But could she go without seeing him one last time?

  The pain of never being in his arms again, of never feeling his lips on her neck, or seeing his eyes whether green, blue, a mix of the two, or even black with anger, or of hearing him call her paulova in his low stirring voice was crushing, but she had to be strong, for him. There were no brown-eyed, blonde-haired children in her future, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be some in his. Because she loved him already and didn't want to see him sacrifice for less, or in her case, nothing, she had to do this.

  By the end of the day, before the twin suns set in the northern horizon, she had to be on board the Odyssey. But she couldn’t risk someone stopping her and sending Trask word. A plan developed in her head—not a good one, but the best she could come up with.

  Feeling both dejected, and determined to make this right for him, she started back to town. Her first stop, the capital center to officially dissolve the bond with the only man who would ever claim her heart, her mate.

  USIF ODYSSEY, EARTH bound, three days later...

  After the heart-wrenching scene in the cargo bay, Maggie and Roth followed as Trask carried a near-frozen Lana in his arms to the captain’s quarters. They lingered outside in the hallway, in case their friends needed them. Despite moving away from the doors, going as far as the end of the corridor to give them privacy, they could still hear the rumble of Trask’s voice when it rose in anger, intermingled with Lana’s higher-pitched tones, especially her occasional shouts.

  Long, torturous minutes passed while Maggie paced, shooting worried glances at Roth with each disturbing noise coming from the stateroom. Finally, the doors slid open, and Trask appeared.

  “She’ll be staying,” he muttered as he walked toward them.

  “What can we do to help?” Maggie asked out of concern for them both.

  “Have your doctor evaluate her as soon as possible. She says it isn’t necessary, but she was in the cold floor for three days.” He looked up at Roth, his eyes dark with frustration. “I’m returning to the Dauntless. My presence isn’t helping, only making things worse.”

  “Trask...” the commander started but stopped. What could be said to comfort the distraught man at such a time? Maggie had no words of wisdom or comfort, either.

  “I need to think,” he said in a harried tone. “I can’t do that here.”

  “But, General, won’t you both get sick if you’re separated?” Maggie posed her concern softly as she moved closer to Roth’s side. She slipped her hand into his, welcoming his tight grip as her heart broke for both his friend and hers.

  Trask shook his head. “We aren’t fated like you, and we didn’t match nearly as high as many of the others. Three days have passed; we have been apart twice as long without sickening, but I’m only a shuttle flight away if I’m needed.” He speared his hands into his hair, and closed his eyes as he said raggedly, “That is not the mate I’ve come to know. Something is very wrong.” A moment passed, Maggie finding it difficult to watch as this powerful man struggled for composure. When he opened his eyes again, he addressed the commander. “Her eyes have changed back.”

  “Impossible!” Roth exclaimed. “Transformations aren’t temporary.”

  “It appears with my mate that it was because there isn’t a hint of me in her anymore.” His face ravaged with pain, he had one more request. “I need answers. Have her examined by both the Earth doctor and one of our own. I’ll want a full report.”

  “I’ll deliver your orders myself and keep an eye on her, as will my mate.”

  He started down the corridor to the lift, while his fingers rubbed his forehead, but stopped and turned. “Will you go to her, Maggie? Her skin was like ice, but she wouldn’t let me get her warm.”

  “Right away, General.”

  He nodded absently, appearing to Maggie like he’d been hit by a truck.

  “What do w
e do?” she whispered to Roth as she watched him go.

  “We support them, that is all we can do. It is between them, whatever this is.” His arm around her shoulders curled her into his chest. “I’ll alert your doctor and our medical team while you tend her. Let’s hope they have a solution to whatever this is because I’ve never seen Trask look so defeated.”

  Once Lana was warm and fed, and with a bill of clean health from all the medical experts—other than a mild case of dehydration—Maggie tried to get her to talk, except she was stubbornly closemouthed. In the weeks that followed, Trask visited her repeatedly trying to break through but returned to his ship each time more frustrated. Roth could offer his friend support, but none of the insight he was searching for.

  With the benefit of new uladite-powered engines, the Odyssey arrived home in just under two months. Negotiations started immediately and a month later plans were set in motion to integrate their two worlds and break ground on a new Earth colony. But in all that time, Trask found neither answers to what had gone wrong, nor a resolution to their conflict. He departed on the Dauntless, bound for Primaria, with a signed treaty in hand. Unfortunately, he’d still been angry, heart sick, and utterly confused as to what had caused his life plan to disintegrate. Having no other choice, he’d had to leave an integral part of himself and his future happiness behind when he left without Lana.

  Chapter Ten

  TERRA NOVA EARTH COLONY, fifteen months later...

  “Open for me, beautiful.”

  A rush of warmth across her cheek accompanied the growling command. Without question, she parted her lips. Only one man had the power to send heat coursing through her body, igniting her passion to a fiery peak with only a few spoken words.

  “Trask,” she called raggedly. Distinct in her broken cry came all the pent-up yearning from the long, lonely days—one hundred sixty-seven, to be exact—since she’d felt the touch of his lips while he’d held her in his arms, if ever so briefly, but much longer since she’d been in his bed.

  But it couldn’t be him. She’d left, setting him free to live the life he deserved, the one she wanted for him, a life without her.

  His scent—clean, masculine, delicious—surrounded her. It was as stirring as it was comforting because as mates, his scent had once been hers. Lana inhaled, savoring his essence, reveling in it, as well as the warmth of his big frame against her own. Trask was a full-contact sleeper. He’d mold his body to her back and bury his face in her hair while holding her close. One arm would invariably slide underneath her, his hand curling in front to cup her breast while the other snaked around her waist snuggling her against him. Sometimes she’d wake with his fingers pressed between her thighs, merely resting there—possessively. More often they’d be petting the wet folds of her sex, easily arousing an intense craving that despite the frequency of their joining never seemed to be appeased. His long legs would entwine with hers, and he’d pull her into the cradle of his hips, the proof of his hunger, even in sleep, wedged snugly against her bottom.

  As his lips opened on her neck and his hands moved over her body, goose bumps broke out on her skin, her nipples tightened, and her pussy tingled with liquid passion.

  “Spread your legs, paulova.”

  Little lamb. Her heart twisted painfully. Once she’d thought his pet name for her silly and somewhat patronizing; she would never have guessed she’d miss hearing it so much.

  “I’m hard and aching to be inside you,” his deep voice murmured.

  She wanted it, too, so very badly.

  “Yes, Trask. I need you too, my mate.”

  Rolling fully, she reached for him, but as her words echoed in the empty room, instead of his warm body, she found only the coolness of the extra pillow she’d tossed to the side.

  Lana opened her eyes to darkness.

  Her false words drifted back to her. Trask wasn’t her mate any longer. She’d seen to that.

  Pain like a steel band constricting her chest made her groan mournfully. When would the heartache end? Would she ever stop yearning for his touch or get to the point when she didn’t see his face every time she closed her eyes?

  With a curse of frustration, she threw back the covers and sat up on the side of her bed. Crying over what couldn’t be was a useless endeavor. It gained her nothing except red eyes, and questioning stares from her co-workers.

  Wearily, she glanced at the clock by her bed. The backlit numbers were blurry through her tears. Though the room remained shrouded in darkness, it had to be morning by now. She used the heels of her hands to rub away the sting from the lack of sleep before rechecking the time.

  5:20 a.m.

  Lana groaned, her shoulders slumping. After tossing and turning for much too long, she’d seen 2 a.m. before she fell into an exhausted sleep only to dream of her general. Would she ever sleep through a night without being haunted by him?

  “No! He’s not yours,” Lana grumbled aloud, “not any longer, and you have to stop thinking of him that way. Doing so only makes you a masochist as well as an idiot.”

  Her endless self-scolding never helped. Nor did wishing things could have been different.

  She stood, deciding to get ready and go in early. Working construction in the barely started capital city there were countless things to do, something Lana was thankful for. By keeping busy during the day, she could forget him. At night, she wasn’t so lucky. Something had to give. She couldn’t continue this way, sleep-deprived and barely functional on twenty-minute cat naps broken up by frustrating sex dreams of Trask.

  Her treatment options on a budding colony in the middle of nowhere were either drink herself into oblivion every night or seek professional help. The first was a problem since she hated the taste of beer, wine gave her a massive headache, and harder spirits made her far too drunk much too quickly, but most of all because the only alcohol available was at The Watering Hole. Frequented by the men she worked, who would watch and wonder, and whisper—they were a gossipy bunch—she opted out of becoming a functional alcoholic to cope.

  That left getting her head examined—something undoubtedly long past due. The clinic in town provided only basic medical services. Staffed mainly with para-professionals, they only had a doctor on-site occasionally, but she should be able to get something for her insomnia. Like putting a Band-Aid on a gunshot wound, it wouldn’t do a thing for her underlying issue.

  She could schedule a consultation with Dr. Juna, her physician from the Odyssey, but it could be a while considering she split her time between the colony and Primaria, mostly the latter since they had at least five thousand new mates there now, and many of them were new mothers, or pregnant.

  Another option, see the physic aboard the Intrepid. Orbiting high above the planet providing constant defense, the ship had a full-service med-bay, but it required a shuttle ride to get there, and she’d have to endure a screening first. This meant enduring questions about the purpose of her visit by a warrior who reported to Trask. No way was she going through that.

  It was hard enough trying to avoid warriors in the colony—they were everywhere, providing not only global defense, but day to day security, supplies, medicine, and power—thanks to the uladite powered generating station, one of the first things to go in. She wasn’t about to volunteer to undergo their scrutiny with someone inevitably reporting back to the general. After making a clean break from him—an agonizing experience rather like severing an arm—she wouldn’t backtrack now. She couldn’t, not if she wanted to keep what was left of her sanity, and, certainly not for a case of insomnia. She’d have to suck it up and go on like she had been since...well, what seemed like forever.

  After inhaling deeply, she gradually blew out her breath and straightened her spine. A glance at the window revealed a sliver of pink visible through the small gap in the curtains. Since sleep wasn’t something she did anymore, she’d work and do her best to block him from her mind.

  A half-hour later, showered and dressed, hair done in a quick
ponytail, no makeup—why bother—and in her uniform of faded jeans, a baggy men’s sweatshirt, bought at the only store in town, and clodhopper work boots, she made her way downstairs to face another long, tedious, unfulfilling day.

  She shouldn’t complain. She’d been lucky to get a job on one of the construction crews. Only workers, or their family, were permitted to reside on Terra Nova. For Lana, it was a situation of taking what she could get—painting, of all things. So much for her double masters in geology and geophysics from Penn State. But, it was either slap paint onto the walls of the myriad of buildings that would be constructed to bring the new capital to life or return to Earth until she qualified for relocation, which could be years.

  They had a science team here, and though she’d applied for it before leaving Earth, they hadn’t given her a nanosecond of consideration for some reason before sending her a rejection letter. She could have continued in her role as a counselor for EPIC, the Earth-Primaria Integration Council, helping new mates prepare for what to expect on Primaria, but it would have required her to live with them, on Trask’s homeworld, not here on the colony.

  So, it was sling paint or stay on Earth and wait. To get this job she’d had to call in a favor from Maggie, who knew the owner of B.R.K., Inc., the civil engineering company who’d won the sole contract to design and build the first city of the new colony. Roads, water systems, sanitation, facilities for storage and disposal of hazardous materials, calling it a mammoth project was an understatement. The sheer scope boggled Lana’s mind.

  Of course, one man, no matter how skilled, could do it all. Therefore, there were scores of subcontractors, all reporting up to B.R.K. himself, Beckett Rance Kincaid. And while Lana didn't know the first thing about power grids, water filtration, or waste management, a branch of his company did construction. She'd learned how to mud drywall while volunteering for a homeless project back in college. She could also paint as good as the next guy. They needed housing, government buildings, and so much more, and those fundamental skills earned her a job which allowed her to stay.