freed her. But she couldn’t avoid the feather light trace of calloused
fingertips down her forearms that made her want to shiver. And when he rubbed
her wrists where the cuffs had caused some slight reddening, she had to bite
harder to control a more visceral reaction.
She reminded her body again that
any attractive male could take the edge off, if pure fucking was suddenly back
on her menu, and that this one wanted far more than she was prepared to offer. Or was capable of, for that matter. Neira was desperately
aware of her own fragile emotional state. She was totally unsuited to be
anyone’s lifemate,let alone a
mother.
She tugged free and slid past
him, unsure if he’d allow it, and wondering what she would do if he didn’t. He
was definitely having some kind of effect on her, and the loss of control made
her want to scream. If she did that she wouldn’t be able to stop. The breath
she didn’t know she’d been holding huffed out of her in an audible whoosh .
She gained the cleansing room without any interference and huddled on the
commode, shaking with repressed adrenaline and hoping Vayne wouldn’t invade her
privacy.
At length she regrouped and, after
a wary look at the door, examined her face in the polished metal above the
small sink. She could see it. The terrified, frantic animal behind the façade
she’d painstakingly rebuilt after the team had stumbled upon her and Alexi
Petrov. It had taken months of self-discipline and military-enforced
therapeutic input to regain herself , or at least what
passed for Neira Grekov. The therapy itself, with the intrusive machines and
psychotropic medications, had been nearly as bad as what she’d experienced at the
hands of the Juxtant. Maybe worse, because she well knew her former bosses
weren’t interested in her recovery so much as painting a soothing public
relations picture. But they’d succeeded in repressing her memories, or at the
very least giving her the tools to combat them—until now.
If those vids featuring her
rescue and subsequent return to the Home World hadn’t been splashed across the
tabloids, she had no doubt she’d be in the same place as Petrov. Put down like
an animal beyond hope and buried deep. Instead, she’d been the poster child for
the military for a brief time, a hero, the prodigal daughter, all those terms to make the public feel warm and reassured.
Alexi Petrov hadn’t even been noticed as they featured her as the commander in
the trenches of that final push against the Juxtant. One of theirs brought home
from the enemy to the bosom of her soldier family, to be treated and cured. Healed. Right.
Securing her discharge had been a
dance, orchestrated with the aid of a very skilled military lawyer and the
threat of the truth coming out. The threat of certain hidden away materials to
be released to the press should the military refuse to let her go. She would be
eternally grateful to the friends she still retained among the ranks and the
way they stood by her—and organized and documented the evidence for her to
utilize if the need arose. She still felt guilty for using the evidence of
Alexi’s murder at the order of her superiors to secure her own escape, but the
alternative forced her hand. There was no way she could have stayed in that
life and be reminded each and every day of her failure.
Her disappearance from the Astris would create considerable relief
across the board, and this time her superiors would keep a lid on the news. No
one would even know she was gone. The frightened part of her
blinked out, cast back into the shadows. Following that relief, utter
sadness overwhelmed her.
“Neira?”
His voice interrupted the painful
trip down memory lane and headed off a very probable topple into the abyss.
Being taken and held against her will was indeed unlocking all the carefully
locked and guarded doors and dismantling her shields. Kidnapped…and something
else she couldn’t seem to defend against, at least not
fingertips down her forearms that made her want to shiver. And when he rubbed
her wrists where the cuffs had caused some slight reddening, she had to bite
harder to control a more visceral reaction.
She reminded her body again that
any attractive male could take the edge off, if pure fucking was suddenly back
on her menu, and that this one wanted far more than she was prepared to offer. Or was capable of, for that matter. Neira was desperately
aware of her own fragile emotional state. She was totally unsuited to be
anyone’s lifemate,let alone a
mother.
She tugged free and slid past
him, unsure if he’d allow it, and wondering what she would do if he didn’t. He
was definitely having some kind of effect on her, and the loss of control made
her want to scream. If she did that she wouldn’t be able to stop. The breath
she didn’t know she’d been holding huffed out of her in an audible whoosh .
She gained the cleansing room without any interference and huddled on the
commode, shaking with repressed adrenaline and hoping Vayne wouldn’t invade her
privacy.
At length she regrouped and, after
a wary look at the door, examined her face in the polished metal above the
small sink. She could see it. The terrified, frantic animal behind the façade
she’d painstakingly rebuilt after the team had stumbled upon her and Alexi
Petrov. It had taken months of self-discipline and military-enforced
therapeutic input to regain herself , or at least what
passed for Neira Grekov. The therapy itself, with the intrusive machines and
psychotropic medications, had been nearly as bad as what she’d experienced at the
hands of the Juxtant. Maybe worse, because she well knew her former bosses
weren’t interested in her recovery so much as painting a soothing public
relations picture. But they’d succeeded in repressing her memories, or at the
very least giving her the tools to combat them—until now.
If those vids featuring her
rescue and subsequent return to the Home World hadn’t been splashed across the
tabloids, she had no doubt she’d be in the same place as Petrov. Put down like
an animal beyond hope and buried deep. Instead, she’d been the poster child for
the military for a brief time, a hero, the prodigal daughter, all those terms to make the public feel warm and reassured.
Alexi Petrov hadn’t even been noticed as they featured her as the commander in
the trenches of that final push against the Juxtant. One of theirs brought home
from the enemy to the bosom of her soldier family, to be treated and cured. Healed. Right.
Securing her discharge had been a
dance, orchestrated with the aid of a very skilled military lawyer and the
threat of the truth coming out. The threat of certain hidden away materials to
be released to the press should the military refuse to let her go. She would be
eternally grateful to the friends she still retained among the ranks and the
way they stood by her—and organized and documented the evidence for her to
utilize if the need arose. She still felt guilty for using the evidence of
Alexi’s murder at the order of her superiors to secure her own escape, but the
alternative forced her hand. There was no way she could have stayed in that
life and be reminded each and every day of her failure.
Her disappearance from the Astris would create considerable relief
across the board, and this time her superiors would keep a lid on the news. No
one would even know she was gone. The frightened part of her
blinked out, cast back into the shadows. Following that relief, utter
sadness overwhelmed her.
“Neira?”
His voice interrupted the painful
trip down memory lane and headed off a very probable topple into the abyss.
Being taken and held against her will was indeed unlocking all the carefully
locked and guarded doors and dismantling her shields. Kidnapped…and something
else she couldn’t seem to defend against, at least not
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