“That’s because I’m trespassing, Captain Aman.” Taevas strolled up to the armed group with a swagger that couldn’t be forced. It was like he lived for the moment when all eyes were on him and had no problem with the guns joining the party. His wings flexed behind him — huge and deadly, with those wicked clawed tips. “Let’s get things settled, shall we?”
Captain Aman arched a brow. “Settled, sir?”
Taevas glanced pointed at where the elf held her arm and then to the side, where Artem was gnashing his teeth and straining against his bonds.
“Yes, this mess.” Flicking a clawed hand up, he gestured toward the lightning streaked sky. “I assume you’ll want help with this.” Something in his charming facade darkened. His easy smile fell away when he added, “I’ll need you to take your hand off of my clanmate first, though. If you want to keep it, of course.”
Captain Aman held Taevas’s stare for a handful of seconds before he slowly released her arm. Paloma didn’t hesitate. As soon as she was free, she dove for Artem.
The captain’s drawl was just a smidge tighter than before when he asked, “Clanmate?”
“Yes. Our dear doctor is the Chosen mate of my most beloved cousin, Artem Aždaja, the dragon you have ensnared at your feet.” Taevas smiled, but it wasn’t pleasant. It was like the grin a seal sees just before a shark sinks its teeth into its hide.
Paloma landed on her hands and knees beside her dragon. She didn’t feel the snow melting into her jeans, or the bite of asphalt under her palms. With the utmost care, she brushed Artem’s curls back behind his horns and asked, “Are you okay? Tell me where you’re hurt.”
Artem stared up at her, his expression torn between awe and anger. “I’m fine, treat,” he rasped, “but you shouldn’t be here. You should be back at the roost, where you’re safe.” He strained to sit up, to reach her, as he added, “You shouldn’t be here!”
“Shut up,” she sniffed. “You’re my mate. Of course I need to be here.”
Tears made cold tracks down her cheeks as she bent to inspect the small barbs connecting the mesh that held him captive. She’d never seen anything like it before, but that didn’t mean much. The EVP had some of the most advanced m-tech in the world. They did employ scientists like her, after all.
“I couldn’t let you go without doing something,” she continued, testing her fingers against the mesh. It didn’t hurt when she touched it, but sent a current of buzzing energy up through her arm that made her yelp anyway.
“Careful!” Artem tried to squirm backward, but with his wings, tail, and arms strapped against his body, he couldn’t go far. “Don’t touch that! You don’t know if it could hurt you.”
In a furious whisper, she argued, “I have to get you out of here! We’re in the eye of the event, Artem. If we don’t move now—”
“Everyone here is going to die.” Taevas’s voice came from over her shoulder. She looked up just in time to see him sticking a hand into one of his pockets, his massive, violet wings stretching out as far as they could go. In the half-light, his skin flickered between violet and a deep, bloody red.
He glanced away from the sky to toss her a wicked grin. “Don’t worry, pet. Your Isand is here to save you.” She caught Artem’s hiss of displeasure as Taevas reached down to pat the top of her head.
“You can’t stop it,” she insisted, shifting on her knees to nearly drape herself over her mate, like she could protect him from the world with her weak body. Her heart was a hard lump in her throat. “Not even a Spot Unit could draw it away now.”
She looked up at the sky. It was a breathtaking sight. Huge, swirling clouds hovered overhead, and lightning bolts hung in the air like suspended rain. Magic was thick in the atmosphere; so thick she could taste it like metal on her tongue. A part of her was thrilled to finally see an m-event in person, but the rest of her knew that escaping alive was not going to happen.
Stricken by the thought, Paloma dropped her forehead to Artem’s and closed her eyes. Breathing him in with great gulps, she whispered, “Thank you for Choosing me. Being with you has been the best time of my life.”
Her dragon managed to nudge her nose with his. “My heart,” he rumbled, voice thick, “I’ll never forget that you Chose me first.”
“Captain,” Taevas called out. Through her hair and tears, Paloma watched him stroll up to the tall barrier and leap, with the utmost confidence, directly onto the top. Captain Aman followed him, as did the two other dragons, who didn’t appear the least bit alarmed by their leader’s proximity to an m-event or the edge of the bridge.
“Yes?” The captain watched Taevas with an expression of dry interest, as if this sort of thing happened every day. For all she knew, it did. What the highest levels of the elvish government did on a daily basis was beyond her.
Taevas shook out his wings and, pulling a small silver sphere from his pocket, turned his head to pin the elf with a hard look. It was no bigger than a tennis ball, but something about it made the hair on the back of her neck prickle with unease. “Release my cousin and I’ll let you live through this.”
The elf blinked slowly. “You think you could kill me, Isand?”
“I know I could.” He smiled and tossed the little sphere into the air. Catching it in the palm of his hand, he added, “But with this, I could save all of you. You just need to let my cousin go. Now.”
The captain weighed the offer for several long seconds before he glanced at the sky one last time. Lips thinning, he moved to tap a button on his gun, but Taevas stopped him.
“Oh, and one more condition.”
The captain narrowed his eyes. Clearly unenthused, he drawled, “Yes?”
Taevas tilted his head to one side, his silky hair flowing over one shoulder to blow in the icy breeze. His expression went from smug to shrewd in the blink of an eye. “I want that tech.”
The captain’s expression hardened. “That’s not possible.”