Prime Imperative (The Prime Chronicles Book 3)

by Monette Michaels

  Needs he was pleased to fulfill.

  Iolyn increased the speed of his hips until he was pistoning his cock into her. The fingers of his one hand were wet with her vaginal juices as he focused on rubbing her clit with his thumb and stroking the spongy erogenous zone inside her pussy with two fingers.

  The gasps and guttural sounds coming from Bria heightened his arousal. The sight of her breasts with their jutting rosy nipples swaying and bouncing with each push-pull of his cock made him groan.

  Diew, she was a wondrous and beautiful creature. And all his.

  As Bria screamed and arched her neck with her orgasm, her tight channel gripped him like a vice. The strength of her climax swept through him physically and over their mind link, sucking him into the maelstrom of her pleasure and igniting his own.

  Iolyn’s climax tore through him like lightning. He threw his head back and shouted his release to the ceiling. His mind was a chaotic swirl of feelings intertwining and curling with hers, feeding from her pleasure and then returning the same a hundredfold.

  As he shot one last spurt of cum inside her tight ass, she moaned and then went boneless under him.

  Still connected, breathing heavily, he lowered her hips back to the support pillow and then supported himself on his forearms to lean over her torso and nuzzle along her neck and onto her shoulder. “You’re beautiful. Amazing.”

  “Uh-huh. You, too.” She opened her eyes, heavy-lidded with exhaustion. “So tired. Hold me?”

  “Always.”

  He chuckled. She looked so cute. He placed a reverent kiss on her lush lips, then moved off her and unbuckled her cuffs. By the time he’d freed her and massaged her limbs, she was sound asleep.

  He straightened the bed, cleaned himself up, wiped a warm cloth over her body with special attention to her bottom, and then slid in next to her. After placing her on her side, he cuddled her ass against his front, placed an arm over her waist, and pulled her into his body. He lightly touched her dreaming mind and found her fantasies now included him taking her ass from behind. He was on board with that position.

  Iolyn smiled. His little menace liked what he’d done to her—and the One knew, he liked doing it. Fully sated, as he fell asleep, he planned how he’d awaken her in the morning.

  Chapter 18

  Bria awakened instantly. Something was wrong, but she didn’t know what. She turned within Iolyn’s arms and found him watching her.

  “Do you feel it?” she whispered as she leaned into his warmth and strength and gained comfort from his mere presence.

  “Yes.” He looked over his shoulder toward the wide expanse of glass doors leading to the balcony off their third-story suite. “Evil. Someone’s on the balcony.”

  “But it’s a hundred meter or more drop on this side of the house.” She kept her voice low and toneless so it wouldn’t carry. They’d left the doors open to the outside to catch the night breezes off the ocean.

  “It’s an easy climb with the right kind of gear.” He pulled away from her body and lifted the covers. Soundlessly, he slid out of the bed and pulled on a pair of loose pants with a drawstring waist to cover his nakedness. He threw her his T-shirt. “Put this on and go into the closet and hide.”

  Bria caught the shirt and dragged it on, muttering under her breath, “Like hell I’ll hide.” But Iolyn wasn’t close enough to hear her response. He was already at the glass door and slipping outside. His mind was fully occupied with the hunt. She spotted a laser pistol in one of his hands and a battle-blade in the other. She had no clue where he’d found those weapons, but was glad he had them.

  Moving away from the bed, she tiptoed to the house com unit and pressed the alarm. It would send a silent signal to the guardhouse, and they’d soon converge on the suite.

  A loud crash, roars of outrage, curse words, and then a battle cry sent icy shards down her spine. Iolyn was fighting whoever was out there all by himself. His mind was red-hot mad and edging toward the icy heat of batel rabia. His focus was now on the kill.

  Pain struck her. Iolyn’s pain.

  She rubbed the phantom pain on her forearm. She gasped as she smelled, tasted the scent of his blood over their bond. He never slowed, brushed the wound off as negligible, and kept fighting. He was in full-blown battle rage now, and she found herself swept up into the morass of fierce emotions and punches of adrenaline. The other Prime coming to Iolyn’s aid had already joined the wave.

  Before leaving the bedroom, she checked the outer room of the suite. She saw no one, so she ran across the room in order to open the door to the hallway so Iolyn’s backup could get in more quickly.

  Almost to the door, she sensed rather than heard another presence in the room—the room which had been empty mere seconds ago. She looked over her shoulder. A man had entered the room through an opening in what had looked to be a solid wall. She froze in place and stared in disbelief.

  Soundlessly, the intruder ran toward Bria, his arms reaching for her. Shaking off her momentary stupefaction, she spun out of his reach and executed a sweeping side kick to his knee. Mel and Nadia would’ve been proud. The intruder’s leg went out from under him, and he stumbled away from her long enough so she could get further out of his reach.

  “Bitch!” The tall male swore as he regained his balance. As he stalked her, she was happy to see him limping. She also noted he wasn’t Prime. She wasn’t sure what he was other than some sort of humanoid-looking hybrid—and her enemy.

  Keeping a wary eye on him for any sudden moves, Bria searched peripherally for a weapon. Any weapon. She vowed never to be caught weaponless again.

  Backing away from the man, she edged toward the kitchen. Lots of nice sharp things in a kitchen. Heavy pans would do in a pinch.

  All she had to do was keep him from hurting or taking her. Help was on its way. The wave of batel-rabia-roused males was getting closer. What she didn’t want to do was distract her warrior-gemat while he fought for his life.

  She grabbed a nice sharp paring knife from the block by the stove. She threw it a bit wildly, because the man had gotten far too close for comfort. The knife took a chunk of flesh out of his upper arm. Her would-be attacker cried out, stopped, and then stared in shock at the rent in his shirtsleeve and the blood leaking from his arm.

  Taking advantage of his momentary stupor, she selected another knife—a butcher knife—and took careful aim. This time, the knife lodged in his shoulder.

  This time his roar of “Fucking bitch” attracted Iolyn’s attention.

  Iolyn shouted, “Bria!” Then his battle cry echoed off the walls. But he couldn’t get to her, his way was blocked by the two men he fought.

  Bria…you all right?

  She sensed him dividing his attention between the two attackers and her.

  I’m fine, gemat. Take care of yourself. I have lots of knives to go through yet.

  As much as she didn’t want to take a life, she was done messing around. If she didn’t eliminate the danger to her, then Iolyn would get himself killed trying to get to her. That was absolutely unacceptable.

  She picked up another, thinner knife. She tested the point. Nice and sharp. With the right force, she could take the man out.

  You aren’t in the closet. You are so in trouble, lubha.

  Whatever. Watch your ass. I like it.

  “So not worth it…taking you in alive.” The male, whom she could see now had a small amount of reptile in his DNA, uttered. “He’ll just have to accept you dead.” He raised a laser weapon she hadn’t seen—then he fell to the floor with a grunt.

  Bria stopped her throwing motion and thanked the One she didn’t have to kill anyone. She then grinned at her savior.

  Her father-in-law stood in the middle of the suite’s living area. Like a dark Viking god, his long hair flowed about his shoulders, and he wore a loose pair of pants similar to Iolyn’s—and nothing else. Her geneticist’s eye noted the strong musculature for a man his age, while her woman’s heart fluttered. Lorinda was a lu
cky woman. Ilar was one sexy and strong warrior—and his sons hadn’t fallen far from that tree at all.

  Several of the Caradoc estate guards ran past Ilar and onto the balcony. She touched Iolyn’s mind and found him immersed in gruesome satisfaction that he’d dispatched his two opponents.

  Ilar, oblivious to her previous and totally inappropriate under the circumstances thoughts, cast a concerned look at her. “Are you all right, daughter-kin?”

  “Super.” That wasn’t completely true. Her knees were shaking. Her throat was so tight it felt as if she was breathing through a glass pipette. However, she was alive and unharmed, so maybe her response wasn’t a total lie.

  Bria came around the counter, knife in hand, just in case any more intruders popped out of the walls. “Where did they come from? How did they get into the house?” The place was a fortress with sheer cliffs on three sides and a heavily gated and guarded front entrance. “I swear that one,” she pointed at the moaning mass on the floor, “came through the wall.”

  Ilar looked at the wall in question. “There are hidden passages all over the house, built for escape during a siege. They lead to the cave system below the house. You’re family now. Iolyn should’ve shown you the escape routes and safe rooms.”

  “Well, we’ve been sort of busy,” she muttered. “He will now, for sure.”

  Ilar’s expression darkened. His increasing anger felt like a storm front cutting through the room. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see lightning and hear its resulting thunder. She braced a hand on the bar counter separating the kitchen from the sitting area.

  “This never should have happened. My security has some explaining to do.” Ilar paused and took several deep breaths and then it was as if his emotional tempest had never happened. She really needed to learn how the Prime males did that. “As for how they got in? Someone had to let them in—and I know who.”

  Ilar pulled a com unit out of his pocket and made a call just as Iolyn strode into the room and said, “It was Darga!” Iolyn spat the name. “The bastard hired these mercenaries. I convinced one of them to give me their employer’s name before he died.”

  Bria wasn’t sure how to feel about her bloodthirsty mate bragging about torturing another living being, then he walked into the light and she moaned with concern. Her mate had several gashes on his gorgeous chest and blood oozing from the cut on his arm.

  She tossed her knife to the side and ran to him as he came toward her.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “What were you thinking? I told you to hide in the closet.”

  “Dammit! Didn’t I tell you to be careful? To pay attention to your fight and not mine?” Bria slid her hands onto his chest and sighed when she realized the gashes were shallow and hadn’t damaged his marking. The cut on his arm needed more immediate attention. She covered it with her hand and applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

  She didn’t get mad at his actions or scolding words, because they came from his deep fear of losing her. But she did need to make something clear once and for all.

  “I sounded the alarm and then went to unlock the door. I checked before leaving the bedroom and didn’t see anyone in the outer room. I was careful. I didn’t know about the secret passages until the man entered the room through one. I defended myself until help arrived.” She covered his mouth when he opened it. “And I was about to kill the bastard with a knife to the throat when your father shot him.”

  “Lubha—” Iolyn began.

  “No. This battle-mate deal is a two-way street. I refuse to hide if I can do something to keep you safe.” She grinned. “Plus, before I put two knives in him, I took out his knee with a nice kick Nadia and Mel taught me.”

  Iolyn pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead. “I guess you’ll have to continue attending yoga classes with my sister-kin then.” She smiled as he brushed a kiss over her lips. “When I knew you were in danger…I couldn’t fight hard enough, fast enough to get to you. I was…scared.”

  Bria licked his lower lip. “I know the feeling. I had to do something to get you help—fast. I knew my coming out onto the balcony to fight by your side would only be a distraction. So, I did what I could do.”

  “You did the right thing. I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He kissed her, a deep kiss with lots of tongue. A kiss of claiming. A kiss of reassurance that both were alive and unharmed.

  Ilar got off his com unit and coughed. “Children…”

  They broke apart and looked Ilar’s way. Bria’s face burned at the knowing smile her father-in-law aimed at them. “Daughter-kin, you might want to finish caring for your mate’s arm, which is dripping all over his mother’s silk carpets.”

  “I got distracted by his chest…” Iolyn laughed. She glared. “…wounds.”

  Bria moved away and into the kitchen where she’d seen an emergency medical kit in the pantry. “Sit at the kitchen counter, gemat. I’ll clean you up and seal the cuts.”

  “Just clean them up, peata. They’ll be fine.” Iolyn moved to a stool, and his father joined him. Then he turned toward his father. “What are we going to do about Darga?”

  “After his increasingly irrational actions and words at dinner this evening, I took the precaution of having him and his home kept under surveillance. I was afraid he would do something rash, but never thought he’d go this far. I took out two assassins in my bedroom before I came to your suite.” Ilar rubbed a hand over his forehead as if he had a headache. “The surveillance team is bringing him in right now.”

  “What about Wulf and Mel…and Huw and Nadia?” Iolyn asked. “Have they been warned?” Bria shivered and moved toward Iolyn, who pulled her into his arms, sharing his strength and warmth.

  “I contacted them as I came to your rooms.” Ilar sighed. “They had also been attacked.”

  Bria gasped. “No.” Iolyn pulled her even closer into his arms and brushed a kiss over her hair.

  Her father-kin turned his heartsick gaze toward her. “They’re all right. The only injuries were to the attackers.”

  “Thank the One,” Bria pulled out of Iolyn’s arms and walked behind the kitchen bar counter. She couldn’t comprehend relatives killing relatives.

  Pulling out the bottle of scotch, she poured both men a glass, neat, and placed the drinks on the bar within their reach. Then she poured herself one.

  “Thank you, peata.” Iolyn took a sip and sighed.

  His father raised his glass to her in a silent salute and then did the same. It was cute how alike the two men were.

  After a nice long drink of her own, she wiped a warm, soapy cloth over Iolyn’s chest wounds. They were all but gone, in less than a few minutes. She frowned. “These were deeper when you entered the room. Does the battle-mate healing work that fast? And how did I do it? I just touched you a minute or so ago.”

  “No need to touch. You began healing Iolyn as soon as he received the wounds,” Ilar explained.

  “Really? No need to touch. That means it’s all about energy and wavelengths.” She looked at the two men and they both nodded. “Cool. I’ll need to study how that happens on a cellular level. It might be replicable. Maybe I could do a gene-splicing and figure how to add that into other hominid DNA.”

  Iolyn almost snorted his scotch up his nose and ended up coughing. His father laughed and slapped him on the back. “Watch it, son.”

  “Only my gemate would think about trying to genetically engineer healing energy.”

  Ilar smiled. “Your gemate is brilliant, and I’m betting she could manage it.”

  “Premier Caradoc, sir!” A soldier dressed in the uniform of the Prime Military ran into the room and saluted.

  “Yes, Sergeant?” Ilar stood, looking regal despite his lack of shoes and shirt.

  “Darga Caradoc resisted arrest. He and whoever was in his house began firing on the security detail sent to bring him here.” Noticeably pale, the soldier paused and gulped audibly. “When the tactical unit arrived and breached his front
door, the house exploded. Everyone inside the home is dead, sir. The tactical unit suffered some severe injuries, but are all alive.”

  Ilar paced and swore under his breath. Then he stopped, pulled himself together, and concentrated on the soldier. “Was Darga confirmed among the dead? There were escape tunnels in his home.”

  “He’s dead, sir. He was at a window, shooting at the breaching team when the house blew apart. He was expelled from the window. He had injuries from the explosion and others from his landing on the stone courtyard.” The soldier shook his head. “We checked the tunnels as soon as we could. His family couldn’t have used them. The explosion collapsed them. We have to assume anyone in the house is dead. The forensic teams are on call to begin their search once the hot spots cool.”

  Ilar returned to his stool and sat. He looked at Iolyn and then Bria. Then he turned to face the soldier once more. “Sergeant, thank you. You may go off duty. I will visit the crime scene tomorrow to hear the forensics team’s report.”

  “Crime scene?” Iolyn asked. “You don’t think Darga set the explosion to avoid being caught and questioned as a traitor?”

  “My cousin was a narcissistic, power-hungry son of a bitch. He would no more kill himself than I would.” Ilar shook his head and sighed. “I have no doubt he was a part of the Pure Blood rebellion for his own personal aggrandizement. But I never really saw him as the leader. More of a scapegoat, like Beria and Luka, for the real power behind the fanatics.”

  “So, you’re saying Darga wanted power, but wasn’t a true believer?” Bria asked.

  “Exactly, daughter-kin.” Ilar patted her hand. “The person running this rebellion has an ulterior motive in spouting the Pure Blood cause. Whatever his reasons, they have their origins in the past. The true believers have been misled and misinformed, are small in number, are fanatically religious, and have been around for a long time. Historically, they have been mostly vocal.”

  Bria then knew for certain Ilar did suspect a conspiracy to sabotage the Prime birthrate. Opening Prime society to the rest of the galaxy had been his countermove to force the saboteurs out of hiding.