Prime Target

by Monette Michaels

  Her mate was upset, and everything in her sought to soothe him. “It’s not your fault, lubho. We hadn’t had this discussion yet.” A discussion she’d hoped would never arise.

  “I never want to hear, see, or feel that kind of fear coming from you again.” Damon tipped her chin up and looked into her eyes as if he searched her very soul.

  Their connection was so entwined now his mind brushed up against hers. Yes, she’d never be alone again. The thought gave her courage for the inevitable dredging up of her past.

  Whatever he saw in her eyes or sensed from her, he nodded. “You’ll share with me now.”

  With his unvoiced love as her talisman and his strength to anchor her, she could. “Yes. Once we’re private.”

  Then she’d bare her shame.

  For a split-second, the foul memories shredded the mental wall encasing them and forced their way to the forefront of her mind’s eye—pulling her from the present and the security of Damon’s arms and thrusting her back to when—Tenar bound Susa to a cross, facing him. Her naked body bled from a hundred cuts from the single tail he wielded. Only her face was spared. Then the really bad things began. He approached her with a knife.

  Susa gagged as her stomach churned at the mere thought of sharing the most painful, frightening, and degrading time of her life.

  Damon cursed and cuddled her closer. “Hold on, Angel. Hold on.”

  A healing warmth filled her, hazing the memories, calming her stomach. Damon, whether he knew it or not, had reacted instinctively to her discomfort and reached out along their shared empathic connection. With him near, she’d never suffer alone, and when she hurt, he’d heal. It was the way of the Prime mating bond.

  “At your pace, Angel.” He nudged her head back onto his chest and rested his chin on the top of her head. “You’ll tell me while I’m holding you close in our bed.”

  The telling would still be painful, but the shelter of his arms and the warmth of his body would help immensely. Rubbing her cheek over his chest, she mentally, physically, and emotionally consigned her care to Damon.

  After leaving the elevator, Damon, without letting her go, entered the security code to their suite.

  Geep greeted them at the door. His eyes slitted. Susa scared. What happened?

  “It’s nothing—” she began.

  But neither Damon nor Geep would allow her to get away with that lie.

  Geep frowned and expressed his displeasure at her prevarication with a skeptical mrrf.

  “Yeah, she’s not being honest.” Damon carried Susa into the bedroom, placed her on the bed, her back against the pile of pillows. “Susa wasn’t in actual danger, Geep. She saw something in the night club that scared her.”

  What? Geep followed them, hopped onto the bed, and nestled against Susa’s thigh. He purred as if to soothe her.

  “Something from my past. You can stay and listen, if you wish.” Susa’s lips twisted into a slight smile at Geep’s emphatic I will and gave the little guy a few pets on his head. “Damon, before we have this discussion, I need to change out of these clothes.” She started to get up.

  He placed a hand on her shoulder and held her in place. “Do not move. I’ll help you with your clothes after I get you something to drink. Then I’m climbing in that bed with you—skin-to-skin—because I need to be as close to you as I can get without being inside you.”

  Susa didn’t even attempt to argue. What would be the use? She needed the feel of his skin against her, yearned for the frisson of awareness their mating connection sparked … or her resolve might fracture and the past would win again.

  “Then you’ll tell me exactly why that scene had you shuddering with fear.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss, an all-too-short but sweet brushing of his lips over hers. “You’ll share that weight with me, all of it, so we can defang the memories together.”

  If she’d any doubt about them bonding before now, it would’ve vanished at his words and the emotions behind them. His demand was that of a gemat to his gemate.

  Cleansing tears streamed down her face. “Yes, Damon.”

  “Fuck me. Stop, Angel. Your tears hurt my heart.” A look of pained concern crossed Damon’s face as he thumbed away her tears as quickly as she shed them. “Hush now. Everything will be all right. I promise.”

  She sniffled and nodded.

  Damon eyed Geep. “Stay with her. I’ll be right back.” He then went to the main part of the suite.

  Susa swung her legs so she could sit on the side of the bed and began to struggle with the hidden zipper on the side of her evening gown. Her hands shook so hard she couldn’t get the zip to work. Maybe if she stood, it would be easier. She moved to stand. Geep hopped up and down at her side, making scolding noises.

  Damon strode into the bedroom, an exasperated scowl on his face. “What didn’t you understand about not moving? Geep understood.”

  He placed two what looked to be whiskies on the bedside table. He then gently pushed her trembling hands aside and unzipped the dress himself.

  Yes, she’d been upset and scared earlier, and wasn’t really looking forward to telling Damon about her degradation, but she wasn’t an invalid. “I can undress myself,” she muttered. Even to her ears, her response sounded immature, cranky, and shaky.

  “Usually you can.” His voice was calm. “But not now.” The latter was an order.

  His feelings firmly locked within his damnable mental fortress—that even with a completed bond she might never breach—Damon helped her stand and slid the dress off to pool at her feet. She was left wearing only a pair of sheer lacy panties.

  As he scanned her body from the tip of her head to her toes, his emotions exploded. In a nanosecond, he’d gone from closed-down to pure molten lust. His eyes dilated with passion and red flags of arousal colored his high cheekbones. His huge erection tented his evening trousers.

  All Susa processed was a strong male in full lust and was thrust into the past to a time when three other males looked at her in a similar manner—Tenar bound her with coarse rope, then suspended her horizontally over a cushioned table. Darga, lying under her, took her cunt. Luka fucked her mouth. Tenar reamed her ass. Afterward, they made her bleed.

  Past twined with present. No matter how hard her higher brain fought to tell her the man in front of her was Damon, her mate who’d never harm her, the remembered pain trumped reason. Her hindbrain was in full control.

  She whimpered and covered her breasts with her arms. Turning her head from side-to-side, she looked for a way to escape. Her heart pounded as she realized she was trapped. If she couldn’t flee, she’d have to fight off the male who’d hurt her—make her less than nothing.

  A weapon. She needed a weapon. She placed a hand on the bed behind her and took off a shoe. Holding it up, spiky heel toward the large, threatening male, she uttered in a voice clogged with fear and purpose, “I’ll fight.”

  “Susa?” The man’s voice was soft, beguiling. His expression was blank. He held out his hands, palms toward her. “It’s okay, Angel. I’m not going to hurt you. I’d kill myself before I ever hurt you.”

  Men were tricksters and not to be trusted—she’d learned that lesson well. She refused to let her guard down.

  He moved away from her, and the feeling of being trapped lessened.

  Her hand holding the shoe shook.

  “Angel.” The man’s voice was low and filled with—Concern? Love? No, that couldn’t be right. “Come back to me, love.”

  Love? Susa had never been anyone’s love. Her head hurt. Something about this man was different than the others. Past and present converged until she wasn’t sure where or when she was.

  Then a furry something brushed against her hip. Susa? Damon not hurt you. Damon, your mate. Then a flurry of images was forced into her mind, burying the images terrorizing her.

  Reality struck. Her knees went weak, and she dropped the shoe from suddenly lax fingers. “Damon?” she faltered.

  He caught her befor
e she hit the floor. “Thank fuck, Angel. I’d thought I lost you.”

  “Never.” She burrowed into the comfort of his arms. “I’m sorry. I got lost in time for a bit.”

  He placed her on the bed, her back braced against the pillows, and pulled the comforter over her. The warmth and weight of the bed clothes were welcome as she began to shiver with cold or reaction—or both.

  “Here, sip this.” Damon sat on the edge of the bed and placed an arm around her shoulders and brought the glass to her lips. “Whatever that was, you’ll tell me?”

  Damon sounded uncertain, and that was just wrong.

  Susa took a few sips and shuddered at the burn of the whiskey as it went down. Licking her lips, she took a deep breath. “I was having flashbacks. They used to strip me naked and—stare at me. Their gazes were depraved and filled with vicious glee as they made me wait and wonder what they planned to do to me.”

  Damon inhaled sharply, and his distress cut through her own pain.

  Susa gasped. “No … no, Damon.” She stroked his cheek and looked into his eyes. “Your gaze wasn’t anything like theirs. You aren’t anything like them. You’re a protector. I was confused for a second or two. But deep inside I knew you’d never hurt me.”

  My protector. My mate.

  Damon’s eyes warmed to cobalt blue. “Yes, you’re mine to protect.”

  It was as if he’d read her thoughts.

  He turned and kissed the palm of her hand. “What was it I did that brought on the memory?”

  “You did nothing. The past was merely too close tonight.” She kissed his chin. “My head was all messed up from the club and the demo.” She soothed his taut jaw with her thumb. “I’m okay now.”

  What a liar she was. Her body still trembled, and her skin was like ice even with the comforter and Damon’s body heat.

  “You aren’t.” He took her hand from his face and cuddled it within his. “But you will be. Now, drink your whiskey. I’ll get undressed and join you in bed.”

  Susa sipped at the strong drink and watched Damon tear off all his clothes but his boxers. His actions were jerky, almost frantic, as if he didn’t want to leave her alone for a second longer than necessary.

  After he crawled under the covers with her, he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tightly against his side. “Do you need another drink?”

  Another drink and her head would be more befuddled than it was already. She shook her head. “Maybe later.” When she might need it to dull the memories.

  He nodded. He took her empty glass, placed it on the bedside table, and picked up his own. After taking a sip, he said, “Who were the ones who hurt you?”

  His tone was a harsh rumble, and she received the impression he was holding onto his anger by a single, frayed thread. Anger he’d unleash at her enemies, but never her.

  Centered in the present, safe within his arms, she knew that as well as she knew her own name.

  “Tenar and Darga Caradoc and Luka Nabann.” Just saying their names aloud made her sick. She buried her face against Damon’s chest. She inhaled his scent and allowed it to soothe her.

  He massaged her neck, with strong, soothing motions. “Go on, Angel. Give the memories over to me.”

  Under her cheek, his muscles were rigid, battle-ready, but there was no enemy to slay. All three of her tormentors were dead, but still they haunted her. Battered her soul.

  She began, “Tenar hid behind his scholarly demeanor during the light of day—the Premier’s brother, the honored historian of the Prime people—but at night, his sadistic side came out.”

  He liked sharp things and single tails. He liked to make her scream and bleed. Make her beg. Then he liked to really hurt her.

  “What did he do, love?” Damon pulled her onto his lap and gently nudged her head to his shoulder. His arms her bulwark against the past.

  Susa’s laugh was derisive. “What didn’t he do?” She took one deep breath and blew it out. “He liked to tie me up. The rope was abrasive.”

  Tied her until it hurt. In positions that made her joints scream with pain and the side effects lasted for days after a session.

  “He beat me. Whipped me.”

  Damon growled, but his touch remained gentle as if he could erase away every hurt.

  “Cut me.”

  Damon stiffened against her.

  “Burned me.”

  Damon swore then, words so foul that Susa winced at the blood-thirsty promises in them, but Tenar was beyond her mate’s vengeance.

  “And—” She swallowed hard, but couldn’t find her voice as the images of Tenar using her body as a receptacle for his degrading lust overwhelmed her.

  “He raped you,” Damon gritted out through clenched teeth.

  She nodded, buried her face against his throat, burrowing like a frightened mouse. She was crying again.

  “What—” Rage made Damon’s voice almost unrecognizable now, but his touch was soft, soothing. “What about the other two?”

  Taking several breaths to ease the tightness in her throat, she finally said, “Tenar was the alpha. He brought in his cousin Darga and his brother-in-law Luka, at first, to watch. He liked to humiliate me in front of them. Later—they participated at his direction.” She shook her head. Her breath caught on a sob. “I was a toy. One they could use and abuse. In their minds, I wasn’t human.”

  “Susa.” Damon tipped her chin up. His eyes were filled with volcanic fury. His nostrils flared with each harsh breath. “Where in the fuck were Wulf and his brothers? Didn’t they see the scars? The burns?”

  Susa clasped his hand with hers and rubbed her wet cheek over it. “Lubho, they were military. They were gone much of the time. By the time they returned, one of Tenar’s friendly doctors”—the same ones who’d lied to the sex surrogates about their fertility and ability to mate—“had erased all my external scars.”

  Damon touched his forehead to hers. “Angel, why didn’t you tell them?”

  Susa winced. “At first, it was because Tenar had all the power. Who would believe me over him?”

  “I would have,” Damon vowed.

  She nodded. “Yes, I believe you would have. But I still wouldn’t have told. Tenar scared me. He threatened to kill me if I told.”

  Damon muttered, “Bastard.”

  “Yeah, he was a bastard. He also reminded me that I’d chosen my path in life. My role was to service the unmated males. I had no choice, he said, in the nature of the services. He wasn’t wrong. My fellow sex surrogates—some had it worse. So, I believed his deliberate lies and distortions for the longest time—until I didn’t.”

  Susa angled her head and looked into Damon’s fierce, compassionate eyes. “When I realized how twisted and evil Tenar really was and discovered he was attempting to destroy the Prime people, I was ashamed that I’d been so easily taken in by him and the others. But I still had no power. So, I bided my time, documented what I could, so when it was time to take him down, I had the evidence to bury him.”

  Damon kissed her forehead. “You’re a strong woman, Susa Anghard, and you have no reason to be ashamed.” He kissed away the seemingly unending tears from her cheeks. “You also aren’t alone any longer. Never be afraid to share with me. Bring those dark memories into the light so they can’t gain any more strength.”

  He was right. She felt lighter. Oh, the memories might never go away, but their ability to take her over would be considerably lessened. And the next time something triggered her past, she would know to share it with this man, her mate.

  “Damon?” She brought her mouth closer to his.

  “Yes, Angel?”

  “Hold me all night? Skin-to-skin.”

  “It would be my pleasure, love.” He took her mouth, lightly at first, but when she opened for him and mewled in the back of her throat, he thrust his tongue inside and deepened the kiss.

  Later, as she drifted off, she recalled Damon had called her his “love” more than once tonight. She slipped into
sleep, smiling.

  Nothing bad would harm her—not in the real world or in her dreams—because her mate held her in his loving arms.

  Chapter 21

  Morning, Day 6, Dreamcaster

  Damon woke slowly. He turned his head and found Susa snuggled against his side, in her usual morning position—her face buried against his chest, one arm holding him mid-torso, and her leg thrown across his lower body. But unlike other mornings, only a pair of tissue-thin panties and his silk boxers separated them.

  He loved waking up next to Susa, her all tangled up with him. Especially now, when they were skin-to-skin. He adored everything about her. The way she looked. The way she smelled. The way little sparks of energy flashed between them when they touched.

  But what he felt for Susa was more than the physical.

  Damon appreciated the way she approached each new experience with enthusiasm tempered by caution. He enjoyed her observations and her silences, equally, and the sense of companionship he’d had with no other person. Most of all, he was grateful she trusted him and accepted his need to keep her safe.

  Susa moaned in her sleep and clutched at his waist. Every muscle in her body tensed. Was she having another nightmare? She’d had a doozy in the middle of the night. Not surprising after what she’d shared about her past.

  Seven hells of Jupiter. He’d felt helpless as her tears and whimpers stabbed him in the heart. Thank fuck, at least this time, she wasn’t crying.

  As he had last night, he stroked her hip, soothing her. “Shh, Angel. You’re safe with me.”

  She let out a little sigh and the tension in her body lessened. Rubbing her cheek against his chest, she mumbled something unintelligible. He smoothed a hand over her tangled hair, moving it away from her face.

  He couldn’t help himself; he brushed a kiss over her mouth. She murmured his name and snuggled even closer.

  Damon rested his cheek against the top of her head and lightly traced the collar he’d given her. He’d claimed her, and she’d given him a bracelet in return. But did she understand what the exchange meant to him? Did it mean the same thing to her?