The surge of power receded back through their joint fist, up her fingers, her arms, and straight into the psychic plane, until it swallowed itself up.
Sweat ran down her neck between her breasts. A gust of wind rolled over her skin, flinging her hair over her cheek.
The warmth from Aaron's fingers still flowed into her, tugging her attention to his fingers wrapped around hers. She turned to find his cobalt-blue eyes already on her face.
As the rational thinking part of her mind kicked back into gear, terror poured through her. Her guts twisted with fear, with exhilaration.
Her dragon had broken through her shield and into the mating bond she hadn't even known had formed between her and Aaron.
Aaron was going to get hurt. He wouldn't be able to take the force of the mating bond.
Yet it wasn't just the dragon who wanted this. She—Hope, the woman inside—wanted this bonding. Longing filled her, mixed with a piercing need.
All of it flowed through the bond, and she was helpless to stop it. Not when she felt like she was going to shatter into a million pieces with the agony of the feeling that filled her being.
It was like when she transformed into a dragon, the fire sweeping through her blood, the heat pushing sweat through her pores, and below it all, a pleasure so intense it was like making love to herself…only this time he was there with her.
"What have I done?" Her voice grated through a throat that felt like it was coated with sand.
Aaron's hold tightened.
His eyes sparked blue with gold flecks shimmering in them, gone so fast she wondered if she had been mistaken. The essence of her dragon was entwined with his. A shiver of pleasure, of fear, pulsed through her.
"It's as it should be." His head moved closer, his breath fanning over her cheek.
Just as his lips touched hers, her senses prickled.
Tearing her lips from his, Hope turned.
The air around Tibor's fallen body shifted.
A woman in a jumpsuit appeared, dropping to her knees next to Tibor. The teleporter cradled his head in her arms. Then she looked up to train her blazing gray eyes on Aaron before sliding her gaze to Hope.
Next to Hope, Aaron swore. "Telekinetic." He took a step toward the woman who'd just appeared.
The air displaced again, and the next moment, both the woman and Tibor were gone.
"Whoever she was, she cares for him," Hope mused.
Aaron ran his fingers through his hair. "Neither she nor Tibor are going to stay down for long. They are going to come back for us," he said, voice grim. "The immediate danger is past."
A groan had Hope swiveling toward the far corner of the terrace, where her sister's dragon had crashed onto the platform.
"Eve." Hope ran toward the dragon shifter who had regained her human form.
Dropping to her knees, Hope stifled a cry.
Her sister's leg was bent at an awkward angle, and blood poured from a gash on her side.
Eve's eyes fluttered open. "Hope, you are safe?"
Tears slid down Hope’s cheek, but she did nothing to stop them. "You came at just the right time. How did you find us?"
"I followed you. I wouldn't have sent you off without backup, would I? Not that you needed my help." Eve looked up at Aaron, who'd dropped down next to them. "You had an Ascendant watching out for you." She coughed, spitting out blood.
"Don't talk, Eve. Save your energy." Hope blinked away the sweat that stung her eyes, gripping Eve's hand with hers.
Eve's lips trembled. "Take care of her." Her gaze locked with Aaron.
A look passed between them.
Eve shut her eyes.
Her skin was pale, she seemed so still, that terror crushed Hope's heart. "She can't die."
Aaron's grip tightened, strong and steady on her shoulder. "We won't let her die."
She hoped not.
Aaron shrugged off his shirt and wrapped it around the unconscious Eve. Bending, Aaron lifted the fallen dragoness into his arms with such care that it brought tears to Hope's eyes.
Her immortal would always be there to take care of her and her family.
"Get Freya," he told Hope.
Soldiers from the Council rushed onto the platform.
47
Aaron
As the last rays of the sun turned the horizon crimson, Aaron carried Eve to the helicopter the soldiers had arrived in.
Hope followed with Freya in her arms.
It was dark when they landed in Bombay. Both Eve and Freya had been rushed to the infirmary.
Vance had rushed Eve into the operating theatre, leaving his assistant, a junior doctor, to attend to Freya.
Aaron knew their injuries were more serious, yet he couldn't stop himself from growling at one of the nurses to see to Hope.
She didn't protest when they took her into an adjoining room.
He'd never seen Hope so quiet, so docile. He wanted to ask her if she was okay after what had happened.
On the psychic plane, her emerald-green essence was twined with his.
There, at least, they were together.
On the physical plane she didn't speak to him.
She didn't even acknowledge his presence as he stood in the doorway, making sure she was being treated.
The nurse finished bandaging the cuts on Hope's arms and beckoned him over once. "You need to take your mate home. Let her recover from the ordeal."
Aaron nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The nurse was a wolf shifter who must have scented the connection between them. It would be useless to deny it.
"Why don't you sit down so I can stitch your wounds?" She gestured to him to take a seat. "You may be immortal with the ability to heal fast, but you need to stop the bleeding." She pointed to his forehead.
Aaron sank into the chair next to the examination table where Hope lay, eyes closed.
When the nurse poured antiseptic on the wound, he huffed out a breath.
Hope opened her eyes and, reaching over, slipped her hand into his. If she meant to distract him, she succeeded. His gaze flew to her face.
She was pale, but her eyes were clear.
He held her scrutiny. His gaze caressed her features. She made to pull her hand away, but he held on, curling his fingers around hers.
Spots of red streaked her cheeks, but she didn't resist.
He felt the pulse fluttering at her wrist.
He leaned forward, only to jerk when a sliver of pain cut through his forehead.
The nurse frowned, clucking her tongue. “Stay still so I don't scar your beautiful face further."
Aaron winced as her needle rose and fell, threading the gaps of the cut closed.
Yeah, he'd just been beaten up by a dangerous enemy, but the stitches hurt just as much. Perhaps he’d wanted to draw a reaction from the woman sitting silent, who held his heart in her hands.
The nurse cut the thread to the stitches and stepped back to survey her handiwork. "There," she turned to Hope. "He's still as pretty as ever."
Hope glanced at his face. "You're right. The scar will only add to his dashing good looks."
"You think I'm dashing and good-looking?" A smile tugged at his lips.
"Forget I said that." Tugging her hand out of his grasp, she got to her feet and made her way out of the room.
She was hurting.