Craved_A Science Fiction Adventure Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  Geir

  Valrea

  Letter from Elin

  Snared - coming soon!

  Please don't forget to leave a review!

  Need to catch up on the Star Breed?

  About the Author

  Also by Elin Wyn

  Craved

  Star Breed: Book Five

  Elin Wyn

  Contents

  1. Geir

  2. Geir

  3. Valrea

  4. Geir

  5. Valrea

  6. Geir

  7. Valrea

  8. Geir

  9. Valrea

  10. Geir

  11. Valrea

  12. Geir

  13. Valrea

  14. Geir

  15. Valrea

  16. Geir

  17. Valrea

  18. Geir

  19. Valrea

  20. Geir

  21. Valrea

  22. Geir

  23. Valrea

  24. Geir

  Epilogue

  Letter from Elin

  Snared - coming soon!

  Please don't forget to leave a review!

  Need to catch up on the Star Breed?

  About the Author

  Also by Elin Wyn

  Geir

  "Quit fucking around, Xander."

  I knew he could hear me. We all have exceptionally good hearing.

  But instead, Xander let the scrawny man with bad teeth keep throwing punches, not bothering to dodge.

  Lorcan and I looked at each other and shrugged. No reason to step in.

  In the two weeks since we'd been helping Granny Z clean up the mess that infested Orem Station under her grandson’s reign, we'd all had a chance of getting into a scuffle, blow off a little steam. Xander had a little more edge to burn off than usual, that’s all.

  A number of trafficking rings had sprung up in the shadow of the Hunters’ activities. If you have one nightmare stealing women and children away in the dead of night, you don't go looking for another.

  "Bastards!" A bearded man who’d obviously been taking too much of his own product charged at me, wildly swinging a knife.

  I waited, letting him come within range, then knocked him into the tangle of pipes that ran along each side of the twisted corridor.

  He went down, stayed down, so we moved on, stepping around the intersection where Xander toyed with his prey.

  Further down the passage to the right, a clumsy mechanical lock held a thick door shut, but I tore it off the hinges, Lorcan spinning low and to the left while I swept up to the right.

  The stench of unwashed bodies mixed with terror told me what we’d find before I saw them cowering in the corner.

  Eight women, eyes vacant and tinged blue.

  I scanned the room for threats then stepped back. Lorcan could deal with it.

  Criminals pissed me off. I knew what to do about them. But the swath of destruction left in their wake, the addicts and the wounded baffled me. Not my skill set.

  I pushed further into the gang’s nest, rooms and tunnels carved out from the hidden spaces between the decks.

  Regular troops would be coming behind us, cleaning up what we left. But it's always been my job to press forward, scout, and assess the threats that lay ahead.

  While the entire Pack waited for enough data to strike, impatience prickling our skin, these skirmishes would be the best relief we were going to get.

  There were no lights in this section other than a few pale flickering balls crudely wired into the station's power lines. The faintly burning smell made me wonder how long it would be until the entire level burned.

  A soft scraping sound, metal on metal, it was almost so minor that I could've written it off in the normal pops and hisses of the station’s engineering section.

  But it wasn't.

  Cautiously, I eased my body between the rows of pipes to my left and eased back the false panel concealing the hidden room. More of a closet really, a last refuge for when everything’s hit the fan.

  A dark-haired man, shoulders broad, muscle starting to run to fat glared at me. He wasn't particularly interesting, but the knife he held to the dark-haired woman's throat was.

  This one wasn’t fogged by drugs. Her breaths came short and sharp with terror, her eyes clear, beseeching.

  "Tell that bitch I want a shuttle off the station or this girl and the others die." His lips pulled back from his teeth in a sad emulation of a snarl. From his clothes and weight, he was probably the leader of this particular band of scum. Thought I’d care.

  Thought wrong.

  It wasn't worth answering. I waited for him to crack until a hiss in my ear told me his time was up.

  "Lorcan, Xander, Gier." Ronan snapped. "Nixie has info for us. Finish what you're doing and get back. All hands briefing in an hour."

  Damn.

  “Fucking animals, that’s all you are.” Flecks of spit flew from his mouth and his hand trembled.

  “Says the man living in a hole in a maintenance shaft,” I tossed back.

  His fingers twitched. There.

  A twist of my hand released my own blade from the wrist sheath, and with a flick it soared across the room, piercing the asshole’s eye, knocking him away from the hostage.

  The sound of the regular troops echoed down the shaft, and I backed away, leaving the woman for them to care for.

  Muttering, I rounded up Xander and Lorcan and we headed out. Maybe, if I was lucky, we’d run into another group of dregs on the way, be late.

  Because honestly, I’d rather be hunting down psychopaths then sitting through a briefing. Even if it did bring us one step closer to the truth.

  Geir

  From where I watched in a corner of the paneled conference room, I could see all my brothers. At least, all that had survived.

  An all-hands briefing should've had us crammed in shoulder-to-shoulder, the ones out on missions remoting in whenever possible.

  But this was it. We were all that was left, not even a full unit if you didn’t count the strangers that chance had added to our numbers.

  Chatter filled the room. Everyone wanted to know the destination of the old spaceliner we’d been trapped on. Just because we sent it and the damned Hunters who had caught us into the sun instead, didn’t mean we’d forgiven anything.

  "All right children, settle down. Let's get started."

  I snorted. An old woman, tiny braids spilling out from a bright headscarf and stacks of silver bracelets running up her wrists plopped down at the head of the table. Granny Z looked more like a vagrant than the retired pirate queen that station rumor called her.

  Instead of snarling at having his authority usurped, Ronan simply gave a half bow and sat next to her. Nadira, his mate, made for the chair beside him, but he pulled her into his lap.

  I shook my head. Of all people, I never would've expected Ronan would soften up. But his lady had proven her worth time after time.

  The other newcomers I still hadn’t decided about.

  A small silver box lay in the middle of the table. Blue lights twinkled and my least favorite of our new Companions started right in.

  "Hi, everybody!"

  I winced. Void. I didn’t need any extra time to make up my mind about the AI Connor and his mind-bonded mate Eris had added to the mix. It was always so needlessly perky. Why couldn't it just be an informational device?

  "We found the coordinates for the compound in the Pyrian Star’s files pretty quickly. The odd thing is, according to almost every database, satellite and comm system I can get into, there's nothing there. No planet, no s
at imagery, nothing.”

  "What do you mean, nothing?" Davian drawled. “I thought you had access to damn near everything out in the Fringe and half of what’s at the Hub. Everybody's got a sat network in orbit, should be plenty of images for you to spy on."

  "Most places do, but not everywhere." Nixie babbled on, as always taking the most roundabout route instead of just giving us the damn intel. "There's a couple of reasons why they may not have satellite imagery accessible. Obviously, there might be nothing there - just a rendezvous.”

  “Doesn’t seem likely,” Hakon interjected. “They called it ‘The Compound.’ I’d bet my toolset that’s an actual place.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do with a toolset, but I agree with you. I accessed the oldest Imperial survey for that sector I could find. There’s notes of a water world with a breathable atmosphere, a scattering of small islands on one hemisphere, and a larger landmass on the other. But nothing past that initial report. All further mention of the planet appears to have been scrubbed."

  She waited, lights blinking.

  “That’s enough for me.” Xander stood, hard eyes sweeping the room. “We should go in, launch an assault before they even know we’ve escaped, make them pay for-.”

  Ronan cut in. “No. We've lost too many of us to take stupid risks. We play it smart.”

  I leaned back. I knew where this was going, but wondered how long it would take the others to catch up.

  Killian, Mack his name was now I supposed, spoke up. “We can take a look in The Queen, bounce in and out before anyone gets a read on us.”

  Granny slapped her hand on the table. "You're awfully free to volunteer my ship, boy." But she grinned, eyes flashing, and the stories of her pirate past got a lot more believable. "Just don't get any scratches on her."

  “We could do a series of folded jumps.” Mack’s mate Zayda chimed in. “Plan the pattern carefully to cover the planet, get some intelligence, come back.”

  I pushed away from the wall. "How big is that ship?"

  Zayda shrugged. “Just a runner. She’ll avoid detection easily.”

  “Will it take three?”

  “Sure, if you're willing to stay in the back until we get there. The bridge is mostly cockpit,” she clarified.

  “I don't remember you being selected for this mission,” Xander scowled.

  “Because we’re not being stupid, remember?” I shrugged. “Unless somehow you’ve picked up more recon experience than me?”

  He lunged, lips curled into a snarl, but caught himself short at Ronan’s sharp command.

  “Both of you, settle down.”

  Xander slammed back into his chair. Should have fought him anyway. He needed to vent, or he was going to blow. And we couldn’t lose another brother.

  Ronan glared at us both. “You’re an asshole, Geir, but you’re right.” He ran a hand through his hair, angry with us, angry with the situation. “We've all had enough of waiting. Go see who it is we’re fighting against.”

  The damn silver box piped up. “I do have a selection of files on General Melchior, compiled before his disappearance. Would you like me to review them with you?”

  “No,” I ground out. “Send the information to a tablet, I'll read it on the way.”

  Killian had been a damn good pilot. Time to see what skills Mack remembered.

  As I followed Mack and Zayda into the hanger I could see why Granny Z had been so proud of the ship.

  "She's a beauty, isn't she?" Mack grinned while I took in the Queen's sleek, deadly curves.

  "She might be pretty on the outside," Zayda answered, "but she's amazing on the inside."

  Mack opened the hatch and stepped through, disappearing while I examined the antique. It'd be amazing if it ran. Anything else was a bonus.

  My attention was still distracted when, with a short startled yelp, Zayda's foot slipped from the step and she tumbled.

  I dove, catching her before her head cracked into the permisteel deck.

  Mack burst from the hatch, eyes wild. "Don't touch her" he roared and leaped towards us.

  I didn't move. "Should I have let her fall?"

  He froze mid-stride, shook his head, confusion warring with rage across his face.

  Zayda patted my arm. "Thanks for the save. I'm going to call it luck and let that be the worst mistake we make today." She bounced to her feet, more gracefully than I would've expected after her stumble.

  Oblivious to the harm he could do her, she wrapped her arms around Mack's waist. "Everything's fine, darlin'."

  He crushed her to him, taking deep breaths, letting her scent, her touch pull him back from the edge.

  Well. This was going to be an interesting trip.

  "I'll go ahead and show myself in. Got reading to catch up on anyway."

  Zayda had been right, other than the cockpit, the only space for a passenger was on the bunk.

  I eyed the narrow shelf with disbelief. Maybe Zayda had slept back here, but there was no way Mack or any of my brothers would fit on that ledge.

  Heading further back I found a slightly wider part of the corridor. Looked like it headed down to the engine, but that was fine.

  I tossed my kit bag down, and as I got relatively comfortable, Mack and Zayda argued in the cockpit. "Apologize," she hissed.

  "Apologizing isn't exactly something we do well," Mack answered, the hint of laughter in his voice a good indication that he'd regained control. "He knows that."

  "I don't care. He kept me from getting hurt. Even if you can't remember everything, he's your brother. You shouldn't fight."

  "Fine." He sighed. "Hey, Geir. Sorry about that."

  "Oh Void," she sighed.

  I chuckled. Apparently, Zayda had forgotten about our hearing abilities.

  "No worries," I called back. "Going to read the files the AI found on this Melchior guy. Dead by now, but maybe he had a kid or a disciple. Sounds boring, so wake me when we get there." I ignored the rest of their conversation while I settled in and pulled up the info on the tablet.

  Over a hundred years ago the empire had one of its many spasms, the Lormari Uprising. Not much of a civil war, and only interesting to me because that was when the Empire abandoned its furthest outposts, effectively creating the Fringe.

  But now I knew something evil had come out of those battles, something that managed to reach across time, destroy my home and slaughter my family.

  And somewhere in this collection of reports, I wanted to find the leverage to make them pay.

  Reading through, it was obvious General Melchior had been a man who the troops loved and the politicians hated.

  He'd served honorably enough, suppressing anti-Imperial interests during the uprising, but over time his communications back to Imperial Control became terse, flat out derisive.

  These people are sheep. They have nothing that we need. It only shows weakness to refuse to cull them as an example.

  Control was having a hard time keeping their war commander on a leash.

  We should burn them all from the sky. Their ridiculous demands have only been emboldened by the weakness of the Emperor and his court. He is as much an enemy as these buffoons.

  Huh. Last I checked that was full-on treason. Looked like they needed him and his divisions too much to reign in.

  I flipped quickly through the remaining pages. There had been back-channeled chatter on ways to remove Melchior from power as the fighting ended and a fragile peace resumed. But then he disappeared.

  His monitors knew he'd booked a trip on the Pyrian Star. They joked that the demanding general was really enjoying some of that decadent luxury in his old age.

  Old age? Flipped back. The guy was already in his 90s when he led the takeover of the Star. Not bad for an old guy.

  I went back to the document I'd been reading, flipped further, searching, but not finding anything useful.

  Putting down the tablet, I ran my fingers over the textured handle of the knife sheathed down the side of my righ
t thigh, thinking.

  An authoritarian military commander, who'd ranted about the need to bring about a new order. And then disappeared.

  The attack on the Star showed he’d begun to put his plans into play. With the Hunters tied to him and still active, someone was still pulling the strings.

  He should have started taking over smaller worlds, built his own domain until it was strong enough to rival a weakened Empire, and then attack the Hub. He should have been a name feared throughout the Fringe.

  But none of the Pack had ever heard of him. Granny Z with all her contacts barely remembered him. Zayda, an intelligence officer, only knew the name as a relic of the past.

  And no matter how I read the documents they weren't giving me any more answers.

  Disgusted with the lack of intel, I tossed the tablet down and went forward.

  There might not have been space to sit, but I could stand in the corridor and lean, see out the viewport, get a notion of where we were going.

  The stars tunneled around us as we made the first jump. “I thought the whole reason to use this ship was that fancy fold drive back there. Why are you bothering with a jump?”

  Mack shifted to the side in a futile attempt to make more room. “I don't know who else knows about the fold drive, but it would be nice if it was just the Pack’s little secret. Figure it doesn’t hurt to only use it when no one else is around”

  I nodded. Made sense.

  "That engine can go from point A to Point B without spending any time in jump space?" If it was true, that'd get rid of a lot of the boring parts of my job. "How did Granny end up with it, anyway?"