Natasha

When Natasha woke, she was surprised to find it was late in the day. Doranna’s days and nights were much like Andromeda’s and given the waning sunlight she knew nightfall wasn’t more than a few hours away. She sat up in bed, shivering. Last night, she’d been so cold, she thought she might die of hypothermia. Sleeping next to Ragnar had kept her alive. Not something she wanted to admit to him.

He sat facing her in the cockpit chair, his large body sprawled across the small frame, a smile playing on his lips.

“You’re watching me sleep?”

“I was.”

“You find it interesting?”

“I do. You’re very beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’d like to remind you that I’m a Maiden. We’re untouchable. Chaste.”

He arched a brow. “You don’t look like a Maiden anymore.”

Stretching, she shook off the fog of her nap. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d napped. It was outrageously self-indulgent. Hedonistic even. Maidens prided themselves on self-deprivation. A spartan lifestyle was a virtuous lifestyle. Simple diet. Plenty of exercise and mental stimulation. Pleasure was for lesser beings like Nymphs and men.

“I’m aware I’ve changed, Ragnar. My physique has softened. Doranna is known for being hyper-fertile. On most mapped planets, animals give birth once, maybe twice a year. The creatures here give birth three or four times a year. It stands to reason my physiology would respond to the environment. I’m sure my body will return to its normal proportions once I return home.”

“Take your hair down. I want to see what you look like.”

She snorted. “And I want to see if you’ve left any food for me. When are your people coming? Didn’t you say the leader was your mother? Why is it taking so long? The sooner we get to Jaegar, the sooner I can negotiate my release with your Parliament”

He said nothing but his eyes lit with a feral light. In the last few moments, she’d unwittingly taken down her chignon. While she slept, it had come loose, but now her hair tumbled past her shoulders. She grew aware of her own movements and the fact that she combed her locks with her fingers. It was as if her body responded to his words. With some effort, she managed to force her hands away from her hair.

“Very pretty,” Ragnar said softly.

Natasha swallowed hard. Last night she’d slept next to him, and hadn’t worried about her own safety, even though he’d sheltered her in his arms. The way he looked at her now was different. The look was hungered, predatory. A flash of worry shot through her. What if they had to spend another frigid night on this planet? Her skin tingled. Warmth flooded her core. She felt slick with arousal. The feeling filled her with horror. Worse, she might have to spend another night next to Ragnar. How would she seek out his warmth but avoid any sort of sexual response from him, or from her own traitorous body?

“I’m not interested in being your plaything, Ragnar.”

He rose and crossed the room. Stopping at the side of the bed, he lifted a strand of her hair. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. “No?”

His voice held a taunting edge to it. Slowly and with a clear air of challenge, he coiled the strand around his finger as he held her gaze. His lips curved with a smirk that infuriated her. Was this the sort of thing that had other women falling at his feet? She wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met. He needed to know she couldn’t be trifled with.

She smiled. “What would your Prima say about you dallying with an Andromedin?”

Her words hit their mark. He stopped winding her hair around his finger. His shoulders stiffened. His smile vanished. The hard look in his eyes returned, sending a shiver of apprehension along her spine.

“What do you know about my Prima?” he asked softly.

His question caught her off guard. What did she know? Nothing really. Just that the woman meant something to him. Something special. The poor thing was probably not very bright, certainly not very discerning. She knew that much, of course, but decided now was not the time to throw that in his face.

“I know plenty,” Natasha shot back.

Ragnar lowered until he was eye-to-eye. “Prove it, little one.”

She wanted to scoot back to gain some distance but he held her captive by the small strand of hair wrapped around his finger.

“She’s someone special to you. Am I right?”

“Very special.”

“I could tell.”

Her voice sounded smug despite the flare of white-hot jealousy searing her thoughts. Ragnar had a woman back on Jaegar. Yet, he flirted with her. She curled her lip in disgust. Even the men on Andromeda limited their attention to a single woman. Lewd images of him and his woman tore at her mind.

Ragnar embracing and kissing a beautiful, soft and feminine woman. Ragnar skimming his big, battle-roughened hands over a woman’s skin while he whispered in her ear. Ragnar making love to a woman.

While she didn’t know the precise details of what love-making entailed, of course, the notion of Ragnar doing something so elemental with another woman felt like swallowing red-hot embers.

He leaned closer, his lips twisted with irritation. “Tell me how you know anything about my Prima.”

Natasha shrugged a shoulder. “Because, you said her name.”

“Her name?” He frowned. “What did I call her?”

Natasha bit her lips to hold back the smile. While she hated to think of Ragnar with any woman, she loved the need in his eyes. He wanted to know the woman’s name? A moment ago, she’d imagined Prima was her name, but now she understood it was a designation. The word meant something important.

“You called me Prima.”

She knew her words would have an effect but hadn’t been prepared for how great an impact they would have. He let her strand of hair unspool from his finger and straightened. He towered above her, snarling. The sound filled the cabin of the ship. It reverberated through the air and even the bed she sat on. His eyes flashed with rage.

“You lie, Natasha.”

She edged away from him. Standing over her, seething with fury, he looked massive and more than a little intimidating. Her mouth felt dry. Her heart pounded so hard inside her chest, she could feel her pulse in her neck. His gaze lowered to the pulse point on her neck. Out of reflex she lifted her hand to cover the spot.

“I swear to you, Ragnar. I’m not lying. How would I know that word if you hadn’t told me? You said it in your sleep. This morning.”

His eyes flashed as he ran the tip of his tongue along his white teeth. The gesture filled her with a deep dread. She inched back a little more, regretting she’d taunted him with the word.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t know. But it’s impossible that I said that word to you. It never happened.”

She nodded vehemently. It seemed the thing to do in the face of his white-hot rage. “Of course not. How about we pretend we didn’t have this conversation? I promise I’ll never tell a soul. Your lady friend will never hear a word from me.”

“Lady friend,” he spat. His lip raised into a threatening scowl.

Natasha held up her hands. “I’m ready to drop the whole subject.”

She held her breath, hoping he’d let it go. For a long moment, he held her in his fiery gaze and she wondered what else she could do to placate him. The man had a temper. She wasn’t used to negotiating with regular, Andromedin men, much less, oversized irascible, foul-tempered Jaegarian men.

An engine’s hum broke the silence.

Ragnar cocked his head. “That’s an Andromedin ship.”

“Impossible,” she sputtered. “They wouldn’t come here. Ever.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just like they wouldn’t shoot at you?”

Her mind reeled with panicked thoughts. She wasn’t sure if she hoped it was one of her sister-pilots or not. Would they try to shoot again?

“Damn that worthless Gunnar for taking so long.”

“Who’s Gunnar?”

“My brother. He’s angry with me.”

“I see.” She nodded, hoping she sounded agreeable. “I’m sorry to hear that. Pfft. Brothers. I never had one but I’m sure they’re annoying.”

The sound grew louder.

“He’s looking for a pirate.”

“Oh? Pirates. Huh.” She shook her head, not clear on the connection between the subjects of brothers and pirates but too worried to ask for clarification.

A pirate. What in the name of all stars was he talking about now? His anger faded. Now he wore a look of irritation. At least he wasn’t looking at her like he wanted to… what? Do something awful. Like he blamed her for the Andromedin ship’s arrival. She listened. Was it flying past or would it land? Her ship would be as visible as a bright target. The grassy plain where she’d set the ship down offered little in the way of shelter.

She wasn’t sure which posed the greater danger, the Andromedin ship or the Jaegarian wolf shifter.

“Someone is stealing cargos of Jaegarian minerals. Entire shipments have disappeared. Gunnar wanted me to help track the thief. It’s probably a Vrandarian.”

Natasha nodded. “Sounds like an adventure.”

Ragnar shook his head, his gaze darkening even more. “This is your ship.”

Natasha drew a sharp breath. The ship grew closer.

“They’re coming for me,” she said. What happened earlier seemed like a terrible dream, but she had to imagine it was a mistake. Her sisters wouldn’t want to kill her, would they? “Whatever misunderstanding existed before has been clarified. Now someone is coming to rescue me.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Thank goodness.”

He tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it on the bed beside her. She stared in shock as he undid his belt and whipped it off, dropping it on the bed on top of the shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“Undressing. Your people want to harm you and I won’t let them.”

“You’re going to be… naked?”

“Correct.”

She jumped off the bed to face him. “Let’s not get too hasty here.”

He stared down at her with a look so intense it made her shiver, but she willed herself to hold his gaze.

“Natasha, be a good little one. Don’t come outside. I might allow them to leave unscathed.”

She shoved his shoulder, the impact sending a jolt of pain down her arm. Distracted, she shook her hand and took in the expanse of his chest. Broad and thickly muscled, he looked nothing like an Andromedin male. His muscles rippled with power. How had she slept next to him the prior night without noticing his commanding physique? He looked like he could crush boulders. His bare chest made her more nervous than anything that had happened since they’d left Andromeda. She couldn’t understand what he was doing by undressing, but she knew without a doubt this wasn’t a good sign.

“Ragnar, I don’t understand. Why are you getting undressed? Why are you saying all these things to me that don’t make sense?”

“When I meet your people in my wolf form, they’ll think I’m a Dorannan creature. Give me your coat.”

She waited for him to say more. The last thing she wanted to do was give up her coat. Her coat was the only thing that concealed her swelling breasts. He’d already hinted at carnal relations. What would he do if he saw her developing curves?

“I don’t want to give you my coat. I’m cold. The sun will set in a few hours. I’ll only get colder when it gets dark.”

His lips curved. “We know the solution to that problem, don’t we, Natasha?”

“I’m not giving you my coat. This is my pilot’s coat. I was awarded the coat when I graduated from flight training.” She pointed to her shoulder. “They awarded me badges for being the top pilot in my class, for downing over ten enemy aircraft in the Battles of Lunaria and Normandium. I don’t even let other Maidens touch my coat.”

He moved quickly, giving her no chance to respond and tossing her back onto the bed with a mere nudge. She flew back and let out a huff of surprise when she landed in the middle of the bed. Without any conscious thought, her training kicked in. In pilot school, they’d been trained in hand-to-hand combat, not only amongst the Maidens, but even with men.

She tried not to smile as he prowled along the length of the bed. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

“If I fall, I’ll fall on top of you, small human female. From the look on your face, I think you might enjoy it. From your scent, I think you might already be imagining me on top of you.”

She huffed with indignation at his filthy words. She twisted, almost landing a kick to his elbow, but he caught her ankle mid-air. With a hard pull, he tugged her under him. She slammed the heel of her hand into his other elbow and he fell to the bed. Rolling away quickly, she managed to avoid being pinned by him.

The drone of the ship grew louder. In a moment, it would land and she’d be free. Maybe. She might also be shot at by a sister-pilot. Scrambling toward the edge of the bed, she managed to get close when he wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her back to the bed, pinning her to his chest. She writhed and tried to land a blow to his ribs, but he held her too tightly.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ragnar,” she panted, tugging her hand free.

“Then don’t hurt me. Please,” he drawled. “I’m begging.”

The edge of amusement in his tone sent a surge of fury through her veins. “I didn’t want to do this, Ragnar, but you leave me no choice.”

He chuckled. “Really? What do you intend to do to me, little one?”

Grasping the pressure point near his neck, she squeezed.

Instead of collapsing, he groaned. “Mm… that’s a good spot. A little harder.”

He was too big to neutralize. She had no other means to gain the upper hand. Thrashing, she struggled in his iron grip. He turned her so his chest pressed against her back.

Part of his body that was especially hard pushed against her. Again. It was a part of his body she didn’t want to think about, but jutted against the curve of her backside. She stilled, trying to tamp down the panic swirling inside her. Another very different emotion spun alongside the stark apprehension. Her breasts tightened with a response she couldn’t fathom. Her feminine core heated unbearably with drenching arousal.

The rational part of her mind whispered. The ship. Get on the ship. Get away…

With another quick movement, he flipped her to the bed, tossing her back. He crouched over her, caging her with his body.

“The coat, Natasha.”

“I’m not returning to Andromeda without my coat. I don’t know why you think you need it, but you can’t have it.”

He drew a sigh as if she were no more than a bothersome child. Grabbing one wrist and then the other, he pinned them above her head. She tried to bring a knee up to his crotch, but he lowered to sit on her hips. She couldn’t move, much less land a blow to his vulnerable reproductive organs.

“You don’t want me to kill your friends, do you, Natasha?”

The air went out of her lungs. She waited for him to say more, but he simply gave her a bland look. He held her gaze as he lowered the jacket’s zipper.

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to hurt anyone.”

“So sweet. Your comrades tried to kill you. Despite that, you don’t want any harm to come to them. They don’t deserve you.”

There was a soft edge of threat to his tone. She bit her lip. The gesture caught his attention. A low growl rumbled from his chest. His gaze traveled lower to her chest. She could only imagine what he saw as he undid the jacket. His lips twisted into a fierce scowl.

“You’re not so little anymore, Natasha. Maybe I shouldn’t call you little one. Maybe I should call you…”

“Oh shut up, Ragnar. I’m letting you have my jacket. You don’t have to insult me, too.”

He clicked his tongue. “I wasn’t going to insult you. I was going to tell you how tempting you look.”

“It’s the same damn thing to me. Take it and get off me. And don’t hurt any of the people on the ship.”

“You like to give orders.”

“Of course I do. Take the jacket already.”

His gaze lifted to hers. “I will. Your people will be safe if you stay inside the ship.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. It was not an agreement she wanted to make, but he left her no choice. “All right.”

He released her wrists and tugged the jacket from her shoulders. She lifted to a sitting position. Why he wanted the jacket, she couldn’t imagine. He moved to the small galley and took a knife from a drawer. With a quick movement, he drew the blade across his palm. The blood dripped in a steady flow as he held it over her jacket.

A moment later he went to the door of the ship, stopping to smile at her. “I’m going to undress. You might want to shield your innocent Maiden eyes.”

She looked away. The rustle of clothing was followed by primitive growls and snarls. Unable to resist, she turned back. The moment she saw him in his shifted form, she regretted opening her eyes and giving in to her curiosity. She’d seen pictures of wolves before, images taken before the Yellowstone Cataclysm, but none compared to Ragnar.

The sight of him registered deep in her core with a mixture of awe and heated awareness. Her skin warmed and tightened. She longed to draw nearer to stroke his fur, but she was too afraid of what he’d become.

An immense wolf.

The stories of the wolf-shifters of Jaegar were true. Her mind reeled with shock. If she hadn’t seen him for herself, she would never have believed Ragnar could shift into this huge and terrifying monster.

His eyes burned with an amber light. His mouth curved to reveal dagger-sharp teeth, glowing white in the fading sunshine. Golden, shaggy fur covered his massive wolf body. She wondered if he would fit through the door. He lifted the jacket in his mouth and pushed against the door. It collapsed, falling to the fern-covered ground with a soft whoosh. Ducking his immense head, he managed to pass through the doorway and leave the ship.