The door opened behind him and Juna entered. At midnight, she should have been home, but for Eryn, she often checked in at all hours. He didn’t greet her, letting her move around the room, inspecting this and that, doing what needed to be done.
When she appeared to be finished, and came to stand on the opposite side of the bed, he expressed his concern. “She’s crying again.”
Juna looked at her patient who was also a dear friend, and ran her hand over her forehead and down her cheek. She also touched her fingers to her throat and glanced up at the monitor.
“We can’t know what she feels in a coma, Ram. Her pulse is slow and steady. I would expect it to be racing if she were hurting, and her other vital signs are stable. She shows no other outward signs of discomfort.” Glancing at Eryn, she frowned then wiped the tear away. “Perhaps her eyes are irritated. I’ll order some drops.”
“I don’t want her to suffer, like when the baby was coming. What if tears are her only way of communicating to us she’s in pain?”
“Pain meds suppress respiration, so we need to be cautious unless we’re certain.”
“There is an alternative.”
They both turned to the doorway where Ellar and Mordrun, one of the elders, stood. “It’s derived from herbs on Primaria. I’ve sent for it. It works differently than your opiates and has none of the side effects.”
Ram didn’t need more convincing. “Use it.”
“As soon as it arrives. I have ordered other medications to have on hand and some other equipment. Back home, transcranial stimulation has been successful in similar cases of persistent unconsciousness.”
Ram erupted from the chair, glaring at the older man. “If that is true, why haven’t you tried it before now?”
“The resources weren’t available on the Intrepid, Ram,” Mordrun explained, coming to the other man’s defense in the face of his anger. “We received word the Dauntless will arrive in a few hours. It is equipped with anything our physics might require.”
Beyond frustrated, he drove his hands through his hair, his grip harsh, welcoming the sting of pain that helped him regain control. “I’m sorry for my outburst, Ellar.”
“No need to apologize. I realize your distress.”
“Tell me something. If this had happened on Primaria, would you have been able to cure her by now?”
“Yes. The facilities here are inferior. I have already spoken to Commander Roth about establishing a full-service med-bay here on the base. It will take time, waiting for shipments of equipment, and will require uladite power cells, but…”
“It will be too late to help, Eryn.” He sat down again, grasping her hand where it lay limp at her side. “The day I saw her on the Odyssey, she told me she had the flu. I should have trusted my instincts, claimed my mate, and taken her home. If I had, this would never have happened.”
“Don’t torture yourself, Ram,” Juna whispered.
“She was unwilling to stay,” Mordrun said. “The treaty gave her the right to choose.”
“Do you think a treaty could have kept me from what is mine?” he growled, his temper boiling. “This is my fault. I let anger and wounded pride guide me.”
Juna rested a hand on his arm. “I suspected, too. She had all the signs, yet I let her convince me otherwise, and let false negatives override my instincts.”
“We aren’t without hope,” Ellar interjected. “It is grave, but we have options coming soon.”
Ram nodded at the man, unused to being so powerless. “Do whatever you think will help.”
“I will exhaust every effort.”
“Until these medicines and treatments arrive, I’ll order those drops, and, in case she is in pain, I’ll give her a mild muscle relaxant and see how she responds.”
“Thank you, Juna,” he murmured moving closer to the bed, stroking his hand up her arm in the barest of touches, even though, if she were aware of his presence, it might not be welcome.
They left him alone with her, but didn’t go far, only out into the antechamber where they thought he wouldn’t overhear their discussion of Eryn’s dismal prognosis.
He bent to her, his lips by her ear, determined to get through. “I need you to prove them wrong, little rebel, and show everyone how strong you are. I need you to fight for yourself and for our brand new perfect baby, but most of all, galita, I need you to live.”
* * *
Ram’s hushed, yet insistent whisper drew her back to his world. Her perception seemed a bit foggy, as though disturbed from sleep, but she didn’t mind with him. If the others who visited became too much, she could tune them out. When he talked to her, which wasn’t often, she perked up and hung on each word, although she often couldn’t make out all he said with the constant blips and whirs of the machines.
It was so damn frustrating to be aware, yet unable to communicate and ask the endless questions whirling in her head. Each time she faded out, back into her dreams, she missed large chunks of the present. And no one, not Ram, or Maggie and Lana, or Juna, ever filled in the gaps, just confused her more with vague clues she couldn’t piece together.
“Can you hear me, Eryn?” He spoke louder this time or maybe moved closer.
“I’m here,” she called out to him. As usual, the words remained thoughts in her head.
“I have someone who wants to meet you. Our little one is waiting, patiently now, but I don’t know for how much longer.”
Our little one. In all their talk of her baby, would it be too much to ask for someone to mention if she had a girl or a boy? Were they trying to drive her crazy?
“We need you to come back,” he went on, his breath warm against her cheek, his hand gently stroking her hair. “You don’t want her to lose patience, Eryn, for believe me, she has a set of lungs on her.”
Distracted by his lips brushing her skin and his endearing tenderness, she almost missed his use of the pronouns “she” and “her.”
We have a daughter!
She wanted to laugh, to cry, and shout her happiness to the world, to hold her baby girl and smell her sweet baby scent, to count fingers and toes, and to celebrate with him, with them both as a family.
“She needs you, Eryn. Come back.”
While she wanted to revel in the moment, she also cursed whatever had this relentless hold on her. Too soon, the fatigue which pulled at her during these awakenings began dragging her back down. Something nagged at her, however, and she refused to go until she had it figured out.
Ram spoke of their little one, what she wanted and needed, but not once did he mention himself. What if nothing had changed, except for the baby? Was his presence here merely out of duty to the mother of his child?
Pain gripped her heart—not like what plagued her before, the physical force stabbing and tearing into her body. However, the emotional pain didn’t hurt any less, especially when mixed with guilt and regret.
She listened to his continued murmurs, words of encouragement and descriptions of their baby. Her daughter should have been enough to send her soaring back. Instead, she felt worse, more dispirited, and became engulfed once again in the exhaustive undeniable nothingness.
* * *
With his cheek against her hair, Ram continued talking about their baby girl, telling her things she would want to hear.
“You should see her, Eryn, she’s so beautiful. Perfect, with ten fingers and toes, and she has your pretty green eyes. Your daughter wants to meet you, little rebel.”
He thought if nothing else, talk of their daughter would trigger a reaction, but she didn’t respond. Neither did she become restless at the sound of his voice as she had earlier. He didn’t know if the lack of reaction was good or bad. Desperate to believe the former, he pressed his advantage and, with a feather-soft touch of his lips against her temple, he spoke with all the longing of the past six months and eleven heart-wrenching days. “Please, Eryn, you have to come back. I need you, too.”
19
Propped up on an elbow i
n Ram’s bed, she punched her pillow into a ball and settled, once again, staring at the wall as she had for hours. He’d never shown up for the dinner or come home afterward, which had resulted in a long, sleepless night.
After the brief visit to her hospital room, her next awakening picked up where the last one left off, with her, rather than dream-Eryn still in control.
The short-haired warrior with the weird vibe had escorted her as planned. Ram lived in town, so, like many others, they’d walked. People jammed the sidewalks, waiting in long lines to enter the capital center, a huge, four-story, stone structure. Odo informed her—yes, the testy man had coughed up a name—the main government building had many functions, housing the elder council’s chambers, conference rooms, guest suites for visiting dignitaries and other leaders from around Primaria, and the Princep’s residence on the top floor.
It also had a huge banquet room, which is where Odo took her, pointed to a chair at an empty table, and commanded her to sit. “You are not to move from this spot without me.”
After this warning, with an irritated expression on his face, he stood against the wall behind her, scowling at anyone who ventured near him and, by extension, Eryn.
More guests arrived, and she found herself seated with several other recently mated couples. They were polite, tried to keep her engaged, but, as the night wore on and Ram didn’t arrive, the sympathetic looks from the women became annoying, and she stopped talking altogether. And she stopped looking toward the door, watching for him like a lovesick puppy—it was embarrassing.
She received no word from him until late while dessert was being served. When they set the small plate of pie in front of her, she scowled at it, not missing the irony.
“Eryn.” Turning at her name, she glanced up into golden eyes identical to Ram’s. With the same hair and skin tone, this man could have been his twin. Yet, as she peered closer, she noticed subtle differences between him and Max Kerr, the Princep. “I’m afraid I must take the blame for your lack of a dinner companion.”
Be polite, Eryn told herself, remembering Ram’s many lectures, because although he wasn’t here, she knew, word would get back to him if she slipped up. Most of all, she didn’t want to test the public punishments she’d heard whispered about, with a few smart-ass remarks.
“I had plenty of company, Max, er, um, your Princep.” Her voice rose with uncertainty over what to call him, and her comment sounded much like a question.
He chuckled, and another difference became clear. No dimple.
“Kerr. Or if you stand on formality, Max Kerr. As for the company, sitting between two new mated pairs, I’m sure they didn’t provide scintillating dinner conversation.” He didn’t exaggerate. Mailynn and Brenna couldn’t take their eyes off the doting men at their sides. It would’ve been enough to ruin her appetite if she’d had one to begin with.
“I didn’t think Ram would be away so long,” the leader explained. “We had a problem in a district outside the city. I’ve received word the, uh… clean up, will take several more hours.”
“Thank you for letting me know. I was beginning to wonder. Still, I understand duty.”
With Ram’s golden gaze, he glanced at her, nodding; alike in height, the same black hair, and long lashes framing his incredible eyes, the similarities were eerie.
“You’re military, more so than Eva.”
“I’m not sure there is a degree of being military.”
Kerr considered her closely. “Do you think a scientist recruited and trained for a specific mission has the same vision and passion to protect and defend as a career soldier?”
“Perhaps not, although the crew I served with were dedicated, especially Eva.”
He smiled. “I believe you’re right. Tell me how you’re finding Primarian life. Are you settling in?”
“I don’t know if that’s the term I’d choose,” she said, attempting to remain vague, her role in this memory vignette, still undetermined. “But I suppose it will do.”
His midnight-black brows flickered a little. “A rather tepid response. I had hoped you and Ram would have grown closer.”
“We have different goals in life, Princep.” That statement was true, then and now.
“Ram will find a path for you both, don’t worry.” He signaled to Odo. “I’m excusing you from the formal presentation to the elders, considering Ram’s absence.”
Eryn tried to hide her almost-giddy relief at the news but figured she failed when his lips tipped up with amusement. As Odo took her arm to lead her to the door, a man in a long white robe, a long beard, and surprisingly, a bald head—not balding, or with a receding hair line, or one of those sad monk’s cuts with fringe around the edges, completely bald—cut in front of them.
He bowed low, giving his Princep an effusive greeting.
Eryn wasn’t fooled. She remembered this man well, and behind his kind smile and pleasant manner, spelled the worst kind of trouble. For Kerr’s people, and for herself, because he was the one who put into action the events leading to their escape and her betrayal of Ram.
“I haven’t been introduced, Max Kerr,” he was saying as he smiled at her.
“Lorkin. This is Ram’s mate, Eryn.”
He was an elder, and she didn’t know the protocol. Should she bow or curtsy, or did she dare do what she sorely wanted and punch him in the face? None of these were options because she didn’t know how to do the first two, and considering she’d given Ram her promise to be respectful, prevented her from doing the last. So, she inclined her head.
He didn’t take offense, so she supposed she hadn’t screwed up too bad. Still, she mentally cursed Ram for leaving her to figure this out on her own.
The next moment, the elder picked up her hand and patted it, and her spine stiffened with tension.
“Galita, isn’t that what our Master Warrior calls you? I can see why from your crop of flamboyant red hair.”
She remembered him saying those exact words. And despite having gone through this before, her face flooded with enough heat she knew, without a doubt, her cheeks matched the bright hair he rather rudely pointed out.
Kerr pulled her hand from his and squeezed it while glowering at the older man. “You’ve embarrassed her, Lorkin, and while she’s here without Ram’s protection, which isn’t well done of you. I shall stand in, Eryn, and issue a challenge if you’ve taken offense.”
“For teasing, oh, no. I don’t think that’s necessary.” She looked up at him as a horrible notion popped into her head. “You don’t fight duels over insults here, do you?”
Kerr tossed his head back and laughed, the warm rich sound filling the room and drawing every eye. The elder reclaimed her hand and pulled her to his side.
“Our Princep is teasing you, Eryn. He’s in a playful mood this evening.”
“And why shouldn’t I be? I have a mate as do seven of my most trusted warriors. I sense better days ahead for us, Lorkin.”
“Agreed, Max Kerr.” With a smaller smile, he raised her hand to the level of his chest and with a gallant air, bowed over it. “Can you forgive an old man for teasing? I didn’t mean to embarrass you. As a sign of my good will, let me accompany you home, with your warrior guard, of course.”
“Aren’t you needed for the presentation?”
“With so many on the council here, I’m sure I won’t be missed. I’d like to hear all about your world and your travels, which I can’t do in this crush.”
“Lorkin is an avid student of social orders. He has made trips to other cultures all over the galaxy.”
“Though never as far as Earth. Please, humor an old man.”
The dialogue, although a bit altered from what she recalled, maneuvered him into position to speak privately with her. She didn’t like it one bit.
“Oh, I don’t—”
“Excellent,” the Princep declared, talking over her protest. “They will see you home, and I won’t have an irate warrior in my face for not taking the utmost care of
his mate while he was off doing my bidding.” Someone called his name, the Princep in high demand at the gathering, and with a squeeze of her shoulder, he murmured, “I’ll see you again soon, Eryn. You’ll excuse me.”
He walked away, and Lorkin’s hand at her elbow guided her toward the wide-flung double doors. He nodded and smiled at several people who called to him but didn’t stop to speak. A few moments later, they had navigated the crowded main hall and descended the stone steps in the cool night air.
Flanked by the elder and her warrior guard, she rushed to keep up with their longer strides. Even the older man was tall, almost a foot greater than her, and she got winded trying to keep up.
“Please, I haven’t kept up with my workouts. Can we slow down?”
“Of course, we are far enough away not to be heard.”
“Excuse me?”
He pulled her off to the side in the shadows of a shop awning, and turned on her so fast she took a step back. Had he been this intimidating before?
“You aren’t a passive female, are you, Eryn Lockwood? What you are is a rebel, and I plan to take advantage of it.” His tone had changed from the kind, old grandfather and taken on a sharp, clipped, ominous quality.
She pulled her arm free of his hold. Her silent warrior on the other side didn’t release her, though. When she jerked hard, his fingers tightened, painfully digging into her flesh.
“What do you want with me?”
“We want you to leave.” Odo spat out his contempt, enough that droplets flew from his mouth.
She cringed, averting her face from the verbal shower then repeated what she had six months earlier. “Leave? You were the ones who insisted on walking me home.”
“Not the house. Leave the planet, stupid Earth female,” the guard growled in her ear. “You and the other seven, we want none of your kind here.”
“My kind? You mean women? Gee, I thought you needed us to procreate your illustrious male-dominant species.” It wasn’t wise to poke the big, angry gorilla, but she couldn’t resist. She knew Odo’s kind—pigheaded and narrow-minded, just like Slim who was responsible for her having to relive this disastrous scene in the first place.
His Rebellious Mate (Primarian Mates Book 3) Page 23