Then, she was free.
Aaron slid to his feet with that characteristic fluid grace of his that drew her attention to his hips, his muscled thighs.
It was only when he grasped the back of his chair that she realized he wasn't as steady as he looked. He, too, was still recovering from their journey back.
"I am not letting you go. So, you better get used to it." His voice was hard, uncompromising, showing none of the weakness he must be feeling inside.
He stalked off.
"Stupid, arrogant man," Hope mumbled.
Yet a dread of fear twisted her heart.
He wanted her; he'd saved her life. He'd even touched her spirit and knew how well they were matched. He wanted her for his mate, regardless that he'd die.
The woman in her cared for him too much for that. He'd saved her life. She would do the same for him.
She would agree to mate Jason.
Dragon 1. Woman 2.
The woman in her had won this round, but Hope found no cause for celebrating.
27
Aaron
After returning from Hope's room, Aaron had fallen into a deep sleep, only to wake up refreshed the next morning.
Thankful for his ability to heal fast that came with being immortal, he stretched and found his muscles willing to obey.
After a shower, his energy levels felt almost back to normal.
Catching his reflection in the mirror, he tied back his long hair at the nape of his neck. After Zayn's death, he'd stopped cutting his hair and shaving.
He looked very different from his twin.
Zayn had always preferred to be clean shaven and had worn his hair in a military-style haircut his whole life. All those years, so had Aaron.
Their features had been similar, yet their eyes had told them apart. Aaron wondered at the poetic justice of it all.
All the time Zayn had been alive, they had tried their best to mirror each other's style.
In death, not only had they separated, but for the first time in his life, Aaron appearance was distinctive.
How did Hope see him? Did she like his beard and his hair?
He ran his fingers through the hair on his chin. Was his beard too rough for her tender skin?
Not that he minded marking her.
He was going to make sure everyone knew she belonged to him. But he didn't want to hurt her either.
Reaching for the pair of scissors by the sink, he trimmed his beard. Then, lathering it up, he shaved it off.
He'd just slipped into his one pair of formal pants and the long-sleeved shirt he'd brought with him, when he heard a whistle.
"For a man who was at death's door not too long ago, you sure tidy up well, pretty boy," Caleb said from the doorway.
Aaron turned and gave the other man a once-over.
Caleb was dressed in formal black pants and shirt.
"Impressive enough to sweep Indira off her feet." Aaron leaned back on the heels of his feet.
Caleb tightened his hold on the doorknob until it came away with a crack. Walking into the room, he dropped it on the table by the door. "Am I so obvious that someone who's known me for just a few days is able to guess the truth?" A vein throbbed at his temple.
"Only because I’m in the same boat as you." Aaron thumped the shelf in front of the mirror. He knew exactly how the other man felt.
"Hope?"
"Hope." Aaron curled her name over his tongue.
By doing so, could he hold on to the essence of her for just a little longer?
Caleb laughed, the sound bitter. "Look at the two of us, gossiping like old women."
"It's not weakness to commiserate with a friend who's been laid low by his heart, is it?" Aaron's lips twisted in a smirk.
Caleb's nostrils flared. "Hell no. It makes us brothers of a sort, I suppose."
Aaron held out his hand. "How about we help each other. Let's strategize to find a solution to get our women. Surely it must be possible for dragon shifters to mate with other species?"
Without replying, Caleb began to walk away.
Recognizing an evading tactic when he saw one, Aaron grabbed the other man's arm. "Isn't there?"
Caleb didn't shake him off. He held Aaron's gaze. "There is no easy answer." The rough edge to his tone indicated he'd thought about this too many times.
Aaron blew out a breath of frustration and let the other man go. Of course, Caleb, being a wolf shifter, would have searched for a solution. He'd lived with this impossible situation far longer than Aaron.
Except Aaron wasn't going to stop looking until he found a way to mate with his beautiful, frustrating dragon shifter.
Heading out of the building, they entered an open courtyard.
On the far side a table was piled high with food and drink. Twinkling lights lent a festive air to the entire place.
"You all sure love to party, eh?" Aaron scanned the scene in front of him.
"Mira's safe return is a good enough reason to celebrate."
"How is she?" Aaron asked over the sound of a live band tuning its instruments in a corner of the clearing.
"Physically, she is healed, but she still can't shift." Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. "Whatever the Elysian did to her is blocking her psychic abilities. The medics are confident that it is a temporary effect which should fade with time." His voice tapered off.
Aaron wasn't surprised to find that he was transfixed by a woman. One with glossy blonde hair that outlined a stunning face. Indira.
His gaze came to rest on the figure next to her.
Hope seemed recovered from her injuries.
Simple cotton tapered pants clung to those long legs, teamed with a flowing white tunic that came to mid-thigh.
With the light behind her, the shadow of her figure was visible through the cloth.
Anger pulsed.
He didn't want anyone else to see her figure, not until he'd claimed her and told the world that she was his.
Her face was in profile, long dark hair tumbling down her back as she laughed at something Indira said.
As if sensing his scrutiny, Hope turned, locking her gaze with his.
Something inside him gave. A psychic need bled out of him and reached out to her.
Across the length of the space, her eyes widened. She started toward him.
28
Hope
The hair on the back of her nape had prickled, and Hope knew he was here even before she saw him. Giving herself a moment to wrap what was left of her courage around her, she turned to Indira. "Aaron's here, isn't he?"
Indira peeked over Hope's shoulder. The color slid from her cheeks.
"Caleb's here, too, I take it?"
Her sister's expression didn't change.
Indira might be younger, but she'd always been better at hiding her feelings than Hope.
Placing her hand on Hope's shoulders, Indira whispered, "Throw your head back and laugh as if I said something funny."
"What?" Hope furrowed her forehead.
"Laugh." Indira pinched Hope's arm.
The pain cut a path through the tangle of thoughts in her head. Hope managed to raise her chin and laugh.
The movement sent a twinge of pain through her recently healed body. She dug her nails into her hand to stop herself from gasping out.