by Kali Argent
While she didn’t understand why the regents were having a meeting about lease space when they’d just ordered her to terminate so many other agreements, it never crossed her mind to refuse. “Yes, of course, Regent Singer.”
Moments later, her heart nearly fell out of her butt when Axton and Zade waltzed into the room with big, toothy grins. Thankfully, before either of them could say something damning, Regent Newgate stood to make the introductions.
“Of course, you know Regents Singer and Marks. This,” he said, motioning toward Olivia, “is Commander Olivia Jacobson. She’ll be in charge of X21.”
Olivia’s eyes went wide, and blood roared in her ears when Zade turned toward her. His onyx gaze zeroed in on her mouth, his eyes full of heat and desire. Panicked, she stumbled backward, bumping her hip on the edge of the conference table, but she had nowhere to go.
“Commander Jacobson,” Zade greeted, taking her hand and giving it a firm but lingering shake. “I’m Zade Tavish, and this is my brother Axton.”
His voice flowed like a cool spring over stones, and his smile had probably charmed the panties off a hundred different women. Dressed in a tailored, smoke-gray suit with a deep, crimson vest, he’d pulled his dark hair away from his face, securing it with a leather band at his nape.
He was every bit as gorgeous as she remembered.
“Commander.” Axton stepped forward, crowding into her personal space, but like Zade, he only shook her hand. He was dressed similarly for the occasion, but he’d left his ebony hair loose so that it flowed over his shoulders and down to the middle of his back. “It’s a pleasure.”
A slight growl entered his voice on the last word, causing Olivia to jerk her hand away. He didn’t scare her. No, quite the opposite. If he didn’t stop looking at her that way, she had no idea how she’d make it through the rest of the meeting.
As it turned out, the conversation about the new sanctuary lasted less than twenty minutes. Where Axton was intimidating, Zade used charm to get what he wanted. By the time negotiations had concluded, the Tavish brothers and their small pack had been granted a rather large rental space on X21, complete with a sublevel.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Olivia continued her internal rant as she stepped into hallway outside the meeting room.
Regent Marks hadn’t come right out and said it, but he’d made it abundantly clear that she’d been granted the command because of her lack of emotional entanglements. She felt pretty damn tangled up about the Tavish brothers, but whatever connection she’d thought they had, she also knew it could never be fully realized. Not only had she gotten the promotion she’d wanted, but it came with her dream post. She’d worked too damn hard and sacrificed too much to give it all up now because of one night of sex—no matter how great it had been.
But how the hell was she supposed to work with them, see them every day without getting involved?
“It seems fate has been kind to us.”
Olivia froze. Even without turning, she knew the deep, masculine voice belonged to Axton. “Why?” she asked with her back still to him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were opening a sanctuary on X21?”
Touching her shoulder, Axton turned her to face him with gentle pressure. “Why didn’t you tell me you were commander of X21?” he countered.
“Because I wasn’t until half an hour ago.”
“And I wasn’t technically opening a sanctuary until five minutes ago.”
Okay, he made a fair point, even it was the only thing about the situation that felt fair. “I have to go.”
“Before you leave.” Axton reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out Olivia’s lacey, white bra, dangling it from his forefinger. “I believe you lost this.”
“Oh. My. Stars,” she gasped, snatching it away from him and shoving it down the front of her uniform to hide it.
Axton chuckled under his breath and slid closer to her. “Come to dinner with us tonight.” Gently, he cupped her cheek, his massive hand covering her face from temple to chin. “Last night was fun, but Zade and I would like to take you on a proper date.”
Olivia couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a real date, and unfortunately, there would be none to come in the foreseeable future.
“I can’t.” He had no idea how much she wanted to say yes, and maybe it was better if he remained oblivious. “I’m sorry.” She stepped away, her heart aching when his hand fell limply to his side. “I…I can’t,” she repeated.
She hated the way his gaze clouded, and while she wanted to say something, anything, to erase the disappointment she saw there, Olivia knew it wouldn’t change anything. Her parents had taught her that everything in life came with a price, and that sometimes, to move on to something better, she had to let go of something else.
The advice had served her well in her career, but this time felt different, and she could only hope the reward would be worth the sacrifice.
CHAPTER TWO
Commander Olivia Jacobson glanced down when her wrist unit began to beep, swallowed back a sigh, and steadfastly ignored the incoming communication. “I’ve been getting calls all damn week,” she confided to her friend, Liaison Officer Morgan Chavez. “Sometimes I want to throw my wrist unit against the wall.” When her office link signaled a few seconds later, she couldn’t contain the next sigh that bubbled up in her throat. “I love being in charge of a new, state-of-the-art space station, but it means everyone wants to come here to check it out.”
Morgan laughed as she swept a chestnut curl out of her eyes and straightened the sleeve of her steel gray and black uniform jacket. “And I know how much you hate dealing with people.”
Olivia didn’t necessarily dislike people in the general sense. When she’d accepted the assignment as commander of Alpha Station: X21 six weeks ago, she’d understood what the position would entail. Engaging with people was in the job description. Alliance personnel, ambassadors, cargo runners, those idiot Krytos brothers who ran the onboard sanctuary, a handful of shop owners—while she didn’t like it, she’d expected it.
The small talk, however…
“They usually want things…and they feel this need to talk about shit I really don’t care about. Like I give a fuck if this is the furthest someone has been out in space. Sometimes, people just suck.”
“Poor Commander Jacobson. How dare people bother you with such mundane information.” Morgan smirked as she adjusted in her seat. “I have no sympathy for you. Compared to the idiots I have to deal with, you have no reason to complain. Besides, most of the people you talk to everyday, you can just order to leave you the hell alone.”
“Very true. Or hide in my office like I’m doing now. I was out there earlier, and there were people everywhere.” Olivia gave an over-exaggerated shudder to make Morgan laugh, but it really had been awful. Everyone she’d seen had wanted to stop and talk to her, all of them seemingly impervious to her resting bitch face. “I’m going to be so damn happy when this grand-opening bullshit is over.”
“I can’t wait to hear your speech for that.” Morgan’s bright green eyes shimmered with mischief.
The blood drained from Olivia’s face so quickly it left her lightheaded. “I…have to give a speech? You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Not at all. You’re the commander here. You have to welcome everyone, and I don’t know, declare the space station officially open or something.”
“Can’t I do that with a freaking memo?”
“Not a chance. Speaking of memos,” Morgan muttered as she glanced down at her wrist unit, “I have to get going. Some of the off-loaders that recently arrived have space sickness and are out of commission for a few days. Director James offered me up as a temporary replacement to help do inventory in the storage areas as punishment for what happened last week.”
“What happened last week” meaning the two elites she’d assaulted for scaring the hell out of the Tarin females Morgan had been escorting to the sanctuary. Olivia didn’t blame her, a
nd in fact, she wished she’d been there to see it. Unfortunately, not everyone viewed it that way.
They spent a few more minutes discussing the abnormally large stick lodged up Director James’ ass before Morgan finally rose and started toward the exit. However, before she could make it out of the office, the steel plated doors slid open, and Olivia’s new assistant stepped across the threshold, her expression a mixture of anxiety and determination.
Olivia liked the young woman well enough, even if she was more than a little enthusiastic about fetching coffee and maintaining schedules. She wore her vibrant red hair in a sleek bun at her crown, and Olivia imagined if she wanted to test it, she could cut her finger on the crisp lines of the officer’s uniform.
Once upon a time, when she’d been fresh from the Academy, Olivia had been much like Officer Hannah Blake. She’d loved order and regulations, had done everything by the books, right down to the precise shine of her standard-issue, black combat boots.
Now, a dozen or so years later, she’d learned there could be beauty in chaos, and sometimes, rules were meant to be bent—some proving more flexible than others. Judging by the hesitancy in the way her assistant spoke, this was not one of those times.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, Commander.” Officer Blake held her shoulder’s back and her spine straight, but she didn’t quite meet Olivia’s gaze. “I was just notified by security that there’s been another…umm, incident at Asylum. You told me you wanted to be informed when—I mean, if it happened again.”
“Damn it!” A dull throb started behind Olivia’s eyes, slowly reaching toward her temples as she slapped her palms against the desk and pushed to her feet. “I can’t get through one damn day without those two males trying to maim their customers. I swear I’m going to kill them this time.”
Morgan pressed her lips together and said nothing, but she couldn’t mask the clear enjoyment sparkling in her eyes. The coy smile that tilted the corners of her mouth did little to ease Olivia’s anger and frustration. Anger, because she couldn’t go an entire week without being called to Asylum to clean up one of Axton and Zade Tavish’s messes. Frustration, because as much as their violent and volatile methods of running the onboard sanctuary had become a thorn in her side, somewhere deep down, Olivia actually looked forward to seeing the Krytos brothers.
That didn’t mean she had to be happy about it.
“I’ve had enough of this shit!” Rounding her desk, she fisted her hands at her sides, and marched out of the office, passing Officer Blake with a disgruntled huff.
Her assistant stumbled in her hurry to get out of Olivia’s way, but Morgan followed her out, her silence louder than anything she could have said. Olivia wasn’t an empath like her friend, but she could practically feel Morgan’s amusement at her predicament. She idly wondered if the woman would find it so damn funny when she murdered the Tavish brothers. Knowing Morgan, she likely would.
“Suck it up, buttercup!” Morgan called from several feet behind her, quiet laughter giving her voice an uncharacteristically girlish lilt.
“Suck this.” Jabbing her hand into the air over her head, Olivia lifted her middle finger without turning. It was a crude and archaic gesture left over from before the Alien Wars, but it seemed fitting in the moment.
Morgan’s laughter still rang in her ears—along with the dull roar of her own pulse—as she rounded the curve in the corridor, following the familiar route to Asylum. When the brothers had first told her the name of their new sanctuary, Olivia had found the double meaning clever. The lower levels housed those seeking sanctuary, asylum, and she could think of nowhere safer for such refugees to heal.
The bar on the upper level told another story, and even at the best of times, it was a complete madhouse. Axton and Zade didn’t mince words, and they didn’t allow for second chances. The rules within their sanctuary were absolute, and the penalty for breaking those rules was swift and brutal.
Upon their arrival, she’d barely seen the Krytos brothers—something she’d been enormously grateful for—and she’d only received one report of them roughing up a couple of drunken and unruly officers. As more shop owners, docking crews, elites, and other Alliance personnel began arriving on the station, she’d been called to Asylum at least twice a week. Then came the visitor and temporary guests of X21. In the past two weeks, she’d been summoned to the sanctuary on no less than a dozen different occasions.
Part of her wondered if she hadn’t dodged a bullet by walking away when she had. A larger, louder part of her brain dismissed the notion entirely, and most days, she felt sure they were punishing her for her feigned disinterest.
“Commander.” Lieutenant Daniel Schrader stumbled to a stop when they met where the hallways intersected. Straightening, he saluted, fisting his hand over his heart, and nodded. “Can I assume you’re on your way to Asylum?”
Olivia huffed. “Of course. What’s the damage this time?”
“Two generals with concussions and a few broken bones.” The corners of the doctor’s lips tilted, and he shook his head. “No blood this time.”
“Thank the stars for small miracles,” Olivia muttered under her breath. “Keep me in the loop, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, ma’am. I always do.” Lieutenant Schrader saluted once more, and at Olivia’s nod, he turned and hurried down the corridor that led to the main level medical bay.
Holy nova, she’d never met anyone more prone to violence than the Tavish brothers. Axton and Zade would be the death of her…or her career. Only time would tell which end would be her fate.
As she continued her march toward the sanctuary, Olivia considered sending the Krytos packing, forcing them to close down and move to another space station—one clear across the galaxy. It was a thought that had crossed her mind several times lately, but she knew she’d never follow through with the threat.
Cancelling the leases on the retail spaces aboard X21 hadn’t gone as poorly as she’d anticipated, and many of the renters had actually seemed grateful. Apparently, no one wanted to open a new business on the edge of a possibly hostile race’s airspace. Terminating those contracts left nearly eighty percent of the retail space on the station unoccupied, but with so little known about the new race, she couldn’t risk civilian lives. For the time being, it worked for everyone.
If and when the Alliance established a treaty with the Xenon, then she’d welcome more shop owners, merchants, and the like with open arms. Until then, it was her job as commander of the station to present a strong military presence, as well as keep a careful watch on Xenthian and its inhabitants. In the interim, she had a skeleton crew of a little over a hundred elites under her command, soldiers who needed a place to eat, drink, and blow of steam. No matter how big or impressive the Alliance had built X21, Olivia knew as well as anyone that after months in space, even the most luxurious accommodations could begin to feel suffocating.
Her elites needed an outlet, and Asylum filled that need—provided the patrons followed the rules, and didn’t piss off its temperamental owners.
Standing beneath red neon sign over the doorway of Asylum, she pulled her shoulders back, took a deep breath, and prayed to every deity in the universe for patience. Or understanding from the Alliance if she murdered the Tavish brothers—she wasn’t picky.
As she crossed the threshold into the sanctuary, the harsh lighting and sterile colors of the outer corridor faded away, giving over to varying shades of black, red, and amber. Soft, crimson light illuminated the underside of the polished bar top, guiding her to her destination while she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dimness.
She’d only made it a couple of steps into the sanctuary when Zade Tavish, the younger of the Tavishes, jogged around the bar to meet her with his hands held up in surrender. “Now, love, I know what you’re going to say, but let me explain.”
“Love?” Olivia asked dangerously, though the selfish part of her was secretly pleased by the endearment.
“Liv,” Zade correcte
d, his smile cocky. “I said Liv. It’s short for Olivia.”
He’d left his hair loose as usual, the midnight locks flowing down his back. Black leather clung to his thighs and hips, and a simple black T-shirt strained over his broad, muscular chest. Every inch of smooth, bronzed skin distracted her, and when Zade’s smile widened, showing off an impressive set of glistening fangs, she nearly forgot why she’d been so angry in the first place.
“Fine.” She bit the word out as if it offended her while she grappled with her body’s unruly reaction to the male. “Explain. Explain to me why two of my generals are passed out in the med-bay with broken bones and concussions.” She’d meant to stop there, but frustration got the better of her. “There is no rule against just kicking them out, is there? You don’t have to maim every elite who walks through the damn door.”
“In my defense,” Zade began, his tone bordering on condescending, “last week, it was a Reema and two Helios.”
The dull throb at her temples crept toward the center of her forehead, and Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose to ease some of the building pressure. “Just tell me what happened.”
“Your generals will live,” a deep, rumbling voice answered from her right.
Dropping her hand, Olivia looked up to find the other Tavish brother staring at her, his onyx eyes narrowed, and his arms crossed over his massive chest. Even at six feet tall, Olivia had to take a step back to comfortably meet the Krytos’ gaze. Axton Tavish regarded her in silence for a long time before finally lowering his head in a brief nod.
“Commander.”
“Alpha,” Olivia countered icily, knowing how much he disliked the title.
Everyone on board the station knew he was the alpha, whether he wanted the job or not. Funny enough, if he stepped up and took some responsibility, she imaged he’d be damn good at it.
Axton stood a couple of inches taller and a bit wider in the shoulders than his younger brother, but that was where the physical dissimilarities ended. He had the same long, ebony hair, the same flawless, bronzed skin, and the same impressive set of canines as Zade.