Chapter Nineteen

Natasha

Dozing off, Natasha slept fitfully and woke later to find herself alone in the bed. She was naked still. She’d fallen asleep without putting on another gown and she was cold. As she shivered and pulled the blankets closer, she looked around the bedroom, searching for Ragnar. Instead of her lover, she caught sight of his enormous wolf.

A cry of terror died in her throat. Ragnar paced the room in front of the fire, his enormous form casting shadows on the walls behind him. On the planet of Doranna, she’d witnessed him in his wolf form. Seeing him a second time was just as intimidating and shocking. Her skin prickled with fear. The crimson glow from the fire made him look like a demon and every instinct told her to lie still.

He wouldn’t harm her, but she still didn’t want to draw attention to herself.

Why had he shifted? On Doranna, he’d taken on his wolf form in response to danger. He wanted to frighten the Maidens who’d come looking for her, but what was the danger here on Jaegar?

She’d flown in over three dozen combat missions and survived a hundred or more near-misses, but seeing Ragnar in his wolf form made her shake with fear. Her training as a pilot, the countless drills she’d endured to learn how to keep calm in the face of danger did nothing for her now.

Slowly, she turned away from him and squeezed her eyes shut. Willing herself to keep the panic at bay, she slowed her breathing and tried to rest. In the morning, Ragnar would resume his human form, and she’d ask him why he’d shifted. Was there some danger he kept hidden from her?

When she awoke, it was morning and her attendants had drawn a bath for her. They’d delivered breakfast too. It was always a sumptuous meal, decadent by Andromeda’s standards. After she’d bathed, eaten and dressed, Ragnar came for her.

His bearing was stern. He dismissed the women with a wave of his hand, keeping his hard gaze fixed on her. “You look beautiful this morning. Just like every morning.”

She blushed and ran her hands down her dress, an emerald gown that Birgitta had sent for her that morning. It fit her like it had been made for her and she suspected Birgitta had a throng of women working on lovely, feminine clothes for her. Not the pants and shirts she was used to, but lavish, showy dresses that showed off her new curves.

This dress had a neckline that dipped outrageously, displaying her breasts in a way that made her self-conscious. The way Ragnar looked at her both pleased and alarmed her. He seemed to enjoy tearing clothes from her and it would be nothing for him to tear this flimsy excuse for a dress from her. His eyes darkened as his gaze drifted down her body. She shivered.

His eyes took on a hard look as he lifted his gaze to hers. “Change into a different dress.”

She recoiled at his domineering tone. No man had ever ordered her to do anything. Ragnar wanted her to put on a different dress? Did he think she was some empty-headed Nymph that ran to do a man’s bidding?

“I’m perfectly happy in this dress. I don’t care to change.”

“It’s too revealing. I won’t have other men look at what’s mine.”

She gasped. “Yours?”

He took a step closer, narrowing the distance between them. “Mine,” he said softly, his voice edged with threat.

“I’ve managed to dress myself for quite a while now. Ever since I was a child and I’ll have you know I don’t need instructions from you.”

She crossed her arms, but had, momentarily, forgotten about her ample breasts. Unwittingly, she drew attention to them and pressed them against the daring neckline. His eyes dropped and his lips curved into a predatory smile.

“I think you do need instructions from me.”

Her impulse was to turn from him, to shield herself from his brazen gawking, but she stood resolute, refusing to retreat.

“What would you have me wear, Ragnar?”

“Here in our chambers you can wear this dress. When we go out, you’ll wear something less revealing. I don’t care.”

He lifted his hand and traced a finger along the swell of her breast. She smacked his hand away. A deep growl rumbled in his chest and for one horrible moment, she wondered if he might shift into his wolf form right then and there.

“When I’ve touched you before, you’ve liked it very much,” he said.

“Probably because you weren’t telling me what I could and couldn’t wear.”

His smile faded and in its place, he wore a grim, determined look, his lips pressed together. “I want you to wear something decent. Gunnar has contacted the mineral thief. He’s agreed to come to Jaegar today. I won’t allow him to see you dressed like this.”

“Why is he coming to Jaegar?”

Ragnar scowled. “He has an interest in you.”

She scoffed, imagining that he joked, but when he didn’t add clarification, she shook her head. “Impossible. I don’t know any pirates. I don’t associate with criminals.”

“If you want to find out why he’s interested in you, then you’ll change your dress. I’ll take you to the docking station.”

Her curiosity burned. Perhaps it had been too long since she’d flown or been in the middle of some sort of skirmish, but she yearned to find out more. To solve a problem that vexed the planet of Jaegar. Even better, if she knew why the pirate was interested in her, she might understand why one of her own sister-pilots was shooting at her. Somewhere along the line, lies had been spread about her and she wanted to know why and by whom.

She turned away from him and stalked to her dressing rooms. A few moments later she emerged in a different dress, one that had belonged to Birgitta and was far too big for her. He muttered his approval and escorted her through the maze of grand hallways. They arrived in the docking station to find Gunnar looking triumphant.

“The ship is moments away. He’s told me that he’s bringing a tribute as a peace offering,” Gunnar said.

“That should make you happy,” Ragnar said.

Gunnar smiled but said nothing. Natasha could tell the man was quite pleased with the turn of events. Somehow, Gunnar had cornered the pirate and the idea that the thief would be in his grasp by the end of the day made him look happier than she’d ever seen him. Even her attendants that morning had told her how happy Gunnar was now that he had finally found the thief.

The ground rumbled as the ship approached and Natasha moved closer to Ragnar, seeking him out for some reason. She’d taken part in negotiations between warring parties, but this felt more intense. Perhaps because she wasn’t on Andromeda and thus was just an onlooker. Not a participant.

Ragnar pulled her against him and tucked his arm around her. For a moment, Natasha forgot about their argument earlier and relished the feel of his immense, powerful body. She wasn’t used to having anyone to depend or lean on and she had to admit it felt wonderful.

The ship came into view, clear in the pristine Jaegarian sky. If the ship were landing on Andromeda, it would be far less visible in the waning sunlight. This ship, a strange type of craft she’d never seen before, arced in the sky and cruised toward the docking deck.

Beside her, Ragnar stiffened and growled. Gunnar shook his head and spat.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Neither spoke for a moment. Finally, Ragnar replied. “The pirate has stolen a Jaegarian ship.”

She drew a sharp breath. “The pirate stole one of your ships?”

The scowl on Ragnar’s face gave Natasha her answer. When the ship drew close, it slowed and hovered.

“Natasha,” a familiar voice called to her.

She turned toward the voice, a voice that she knew as well as her own. It came from the ship. “Elise,” she whispered.

A soft shimmer rippled the air. A flash of light blinded her. Ragnar snarled and lunged for her but a force jerked her off her feet. Ragnar vanished. Wind howled, tearing the scream from her throat. She fell with a painful thud, not on the floor of the docking station but on a steel floor of an aircraft.