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.
One of the two suns had peeked over the horizon when she arrived at what would one day be the first city hall on Terra Nova. As she stood on the concrete front steps, she tried to calculate the time it would take her to paint every floor and ceiling of its overall 250,000 square footage. A month, a year, a decade…her boss might not like the last one, but she had nothing but time. Without plans for a future, her only focus was getting through another sad, lonely day. With another sigh to accompany her dismal thoughts, she started up the steps to get to work.
***
Three days by space flight away in Primaria…
Setting his hand on the control screen, Trask waited for his identity to be confirmed and the particle barrier to dissipate allowing access to his residence before stalking inside. A few feet inside, he came to a stop, the wave of emptiness and silence hitting him like a smack in the face. Coming home after an extended mission usually filled him with a sense of peace, but this time it was different. The heavy sadness and underlying anger stayed with him, which no matter where he was or what he was doing, lingered like a pervasive bitterness in his soul. Here, in a place that had always been a haven of comfort, he’d hoped to escape the pain and resentment. Standing in the entryway, in a stream of light shining in from the third-floor skylight, memories assaulted him.
They were of Lana, of course. He could see her skipping down the stairs, her smile of greeting more brilliant than the twin Primarian suns, her soft, slightly husky voice calling his name, and feel the touch of her hand which fell lightly on his chest as she leaned in. She needed him for balance as she rose on tiptoe, and angled her face up to his, lips parted slightly in anticipation of his kiss. Standing in this very spot reminded him of how the light made her fair hair glimmer as if made from pure gold. It also triggered a memory of her kneeling at his feet while she took him in her mouth and gave him incredible pleasure.
“Faex!” he roared into his empty house.
He’d deliberately stayed away hoping to avoid the pain he felt right now. But more than a year had passed, and the same raw turmoil roiled in his gut as if she’d left him yesterday.
When he felt like this, he needed a physical outlet. It was either that or explode. He’d left a trail of shattered glass and vid screens in his wake, and fist-sized holes in walls. Realizing it was unseemly to continue in this vein, not to mention expensive, he’d turned to sparring. But after breaking one warrior's nose, and dislocating another’s shoulder, his choice of partners had nearly dried up. Ram and Lothar were the only two who dared enter the ring with him anymore. Despite his volatile state, Ram could still best him, but sparring with him wasn’t nearly as gratifying since his friend had resolved the discord with his mate, and after the birth of his child. For some reason, he found it unsatisfactory to punch a smiling man in the face. Lothar, his second-in-command, was usually on assignment elsewhere and the opportunity didn’t arise very often.
It was time he got a grip on his emotions, especially since loneliness seemed to be his new fate. He’d have to learn how to deal with it without destroying property and maiming his men. With a long-drawn-out sigh, Trask waved at the interior panel. A hum and a crackle told him the barrier had activated without having to check. Good thing. He pitied the uninvited visitor who invaded his privacy in his current mood.
“Trask.” The soft feminine voice had his head snapping toward the stairs. A beautiful woman, tall and slender, with long midnight hair glinting blue in the sunbeams shining down through the skylights. At another time, Adria’s enthusiastic greeting would have pleased him. But as he watched her hurry toward him, watering can in hand, she wasn’t the woman he longed to find when he came home. He yearned for his mate, not his sister.
“Brother, it has been far too long,” she cried as she wrapped him in an effusive hug.
Automatically, his arms encircled her, and he held her close, taking small comfort in her warm welcome at least.
She broke away, asking expectantly, “Where is Lana?” She looked at the door; then her gaze darted around. “Has she gone to the kitchen? I’ve missed her surprisingly good human food.” As if certain she’d find her there, she twisted and started down the main hall to the back of the house.
He’d been gone all this time, but surely, she knew. Trask caught her arm and stopped her. “Adria, what is this? You know she isn’t here.”
She spun back so quickly her waist-length hair swirled around her body. “Not here? Is she visiting one of her friends? Of course, you’ve been away for so long.”
He looked at her, dumbfounded. “Little star, surely you understand she isn’t on Primaria, and doesn’t plan to be.”
“What do you mean she isn’t here?” Her brows slammed together. “You can’t just leave your mate wherever you please.”
His emotions already on edge, he needed to end this. “I didn’t leave her. She left me.”
“I know she did. But you went after her, Trask.” Her voice steadily rose until she was practically shouting. “You were supposed to bring her home!”
“It’s not like I didn’t try, Adri,” he muttered with impatience while stalking past her.
Her footfalls sounded softly in the hall as she scurried after him.
“I can’t deal with this now.” Crossing to the counter, he opened the chiller, his eyes searching for… Yes! Maker be praised, he hadn’t drunk the last of it. He snagged the tall neck of a green bottle and slammed the door with a less than satisfying rattle. Next, he waved his hand over the implement cache. Once the recessed drawer popped out, he searched through the jumble for an opener.
“What are you looking for?” Adria asked.
“Something to open this damn bottle so I can have a drink.” Not finding what he was looking for, he grabbed a knife, prepared to gouge out the stopper. Before he took the first stab, Adria’s slender fingers on his wrist halted him.
“Sit. I’ll do this while you tell me what happened.”
He readily relinquished both, stormed across the room, and flopped down into his chair at the head of the table—now, a table for one. Immediately he was assailed with memories of Lana sharing a meal with him, and afterward, perched on his lap, her soft, curves snuggled against him, practically purring in contentment, while she spoon-fed him bites of dessert. A custard-like confection in a cookie crust with a syrupy fruit topping of sweet berries. She'd claimed the cheesecake was her favorite “to die for” recipe from Earth. At the time, he had agreed, especially while sharing sticky sweet kisses with her between bites. What had once been a fond recollection now sat like bitter gall on his tongue.
He leaned forward, fingers stabbing into his hair, elbows on his knees as for the millionth time, he tried to figure out what went wrong.
His sister’s touch on his shoulder didn’t stir him so she eased one of his hands away and touched a glass filled with vilo to his palm. He tossed it back, all of it, in one long chug.
She sank to her knees beside his chair and gazed up at him with worried eyes. “You are in torment, Trask. Tell me what happened.”
“How much do you know?”
“I know you followed her to Earth. Then, there was some business about a kidnapping attempt by the Denastrians, but you saved Ram’s mate and child, along with Lana.”
“Yes, but I was unable to convince her to return with me afterward.”
“A heroic rescue didn’t change her mind?”
“Apparently not.”
Her nails dug into his knee as she asked, sounding as perplexed as him, “Why would she do this? She loved you. I know she did.”
Trask leaned back in his chair and rubbed at the pain building behind his forehead. “She claimed she was trying to make the best of a bad situation.” He huffed a humorless laugh. “Which was me, evidently. When given a chance to be rid of me, and go home, she took it.”
Adria sat back on her heels while shaking her head. “Something is wrong. I spent time with her. She was kind, sweet-natured, and I thought, hopelessly in love with you. Her eyes sparkled with tears. “This makes no sense. Her eyes were like yours. She transformed. You were bonded mates!”
“That didn’t last, either.”
“What do you mean?”
“They changed back. The only outward sign she had once been mine, faded along with her supposed love for me.”
Her jaw dropped open and several moments passed before she whispered, “I didn’t know such a thing was possible.”
“Neither did I.”
They lapsed into a troubled silence.
“So, you’ve given up,” Adri stated at length. “That isn’t like you. My brother is strong, decisive, the Supreme General of the Primarian Army never backs down from a fight. Talk some sense into her, spank it into her if you must.”
His eyes cut to hers. “There is something else.”
“What more can there be?”
“Her illness. She believes I was the cause, sickening when I was around her and rallying when I was not. She claimed the week I was gone retrieving the escaped humans she got better.”
Her hand flew to her mouth in shock.
“Yes, I felt the same way. You were here with her, is it true?”
Tears welled in his sister’s eyes, which was answer enough.
“You saw how the illness affected her. She lost weight, grew terribly pale, she couldn’t keep anything on her stomach when I was around—and her headaches were debilitating.” And he’d been helpless to do anything to help her. “It was as though she was slipping from my grasp even then.”
“It sounds like separation sickness.”
“When we are together?” he countered.
Her brows gathered again. “Take her to Jarlan. He can find a solution, surely.”
“Don’t you think I’ve looked at this from every angle? But the foremost obstacle remains; she doesn’t want to be with me. Perhaps that is the reason she becomes ill when she is.” Using words very much like Lana's, something that had haunted him for months, he murmured aloud, “How can we, or anyone, build a future on such a foundation?”
“I was so happy when you found her.” Adria’s sorrow shone through her tears. This explained her earlier reaction—the denial—and the budding anxiety in her eyes, and, and yes, disappointment. She said she’d missed Lana; his sister had come to care about her, too.
As his only sibling, and having had a hand in raising her, he and Adria were close. She had their father's eyes, as he did. The only thing either of them inherited from their mother was the dimple in their right cheek, and his was most often concealed by his beard. When he looked at Adria now, seeing his beloved father in her, and his mother when she smiled, he was reminded of how much he had lost in his thirty-four years. And he wondered, after losing his parents, several uncles, and most of all Lana, why he should risk getting attached ever again. It hurt too damn much.
“Little star, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be attending to your studies instead of seeing to me?”
“I’ll always want to see to you, Trask. With you gone so long, I missed you. Being here helped. I have stopped by every week while you’ve been away to see to Lana’s plants.” Together, they looked at the fuchsia leafed four-foot-high dwarf tree in the pot in the corner. “I suppose I shouldn’t have bothered; they will be a painful reminder.”
“Or a warning, not to lose my heart again.”
“Oh, Trask, no. Your true mate, who obviously wasn't a heartless fair-haired shrew from beyond this galaxy, is still out there somewhere.”
With a sad smile he was quick to point out her change of heart. “I thought you said she was kind and sweet-natured.”
She snorted. “Apparently, I am an atrocious judge of character.”
He put his hand to her cheek. “Apparently, it runs in the family. Nonetheless, after Lana, and the agony of losing her, I don’t want another. True mate or not. I have a job to do, which fulfills me and occupies a great amount of time. I'll leave repopulating Primaria to warriors with better luck than I.”
She rose to her feet, took his empty glass, crossed to the chiller, and refilled it. She took a healthy gulp for herself and topped it off again, before bringing it back to him.
“There’s more in the cellar. I’ll go bring up a few bottles to chill.”
“What would I do without you, little star?”
“Stay sober and ruminate over the heartless bitch? Not if I have any say in the matter.”
As she stormed away in a huff, he chuckled at his fiercely protective sister. Then realized it was the first time in months he’d laughed or cracked a smile. It faded, as he raised his glass and drained it. Drowning his sorrows in vilo didn’t help, only masked the pain, but maybe, he could sleep without Lana invading his dreams for once.