“It is if you want to live.” Taevas threw the sphere and caught it again, just as a massive lightning strike rattled the bridge. Paloma yelped and covered Artem as best she could. The bloom of magic, an umbrella of frozen electricity, hovered over them, terrifyingly close.
Captain Aman didn’t need another sign. “Fine. You get a gun.” Flicking the switch, he added, “You won’t be able to recreate it anyway.”
The mesh flickered once before it winked out of existence. Artem was lurching up from the ground to wrap her in his wings and his arms in seconds. Paloma could feel his heart pounding under her cheek as she clung to him.
Taevas grinned. “Delightful!” Turning to look at Paloma, who managed to peek over her mate’s shoulder, he held up the sphere and explained, “We’ve been working on this for a while. This will act like a reverse m-siphon. Instead of conducting power, it will bounce it back and disperse it evenly. Never tried it in the field before, but now’s as good a time as any.”
Saluting her with two clawed fingers, Taevas leapt off of the bridge, the sphere in his hand humming a high, droning note. When he was far enough away from the bridge as he dared to be, he launched the sphere into the air and dove down, wings tucked against his back as the world exploded into light and heat.
She held onto Artem with everything she had as light and time and reality bent, broke, and refused around them. All the lightning bolts fell from the sky at once, arrowing down, down toward the river below, as a high pitched whine bounced off of the gorge’s walls. A massive wave of energy crested over them all — so thick and heavy it sucked the air out of her lungs before it began, almost miraculously, to retreat once more.
Paloma buried her face in Artem’s shoulder, her body safely curled under his wings, but couldn’t resist a peek through her hair as a brand new being came to life before her stinging eyes.
In the frothing energy and light of the warped sky, a silhouette coalesced. It began to fall, limbs limp and long, long hair streaming like a banner through the sky, but was saved from a terrible start in life by a quick, armor plated dragon. One of Taevas’s guards snatched the new being from the sky to land with them ever-so-gently on the bridge.
Paloma only caught a glimpse of pale silvery skin and an angular, feminine face before the guard curled his wings around her with a snap, hiding her from view. One dainty foot peeked out, but that too was quickly covered by a possessive, coiling tail.
Almost as soon as it began, the event was over.
The magic melted away, buffeted back into the atmosphere by that strange little device Taevas caught once more as he glided, unhurried, in his bipedal form around the gorge. There was a collective murmur as elves and dragons alike began to shake off the awe and terror of the moment.
Paloma felt the moment Artem realized the danger had passed. Without wasting a second, he turned them over and clutched her to his chest, his wings tightening around her and his face pressed into her hair. Huge breaths puffed against her cheek, as if he needed to take her into his lungs to reassure himself that she was alive and well.
“My courageous Paloma,” he murmured, kissing her neck again and again. “Don’t you ever do something like that again.”
She laughed, but it quickly turned into a sob of relief as she held on tight. Gods, I almost lost him. It didn’t matter that they’d only known each other for a handful of days. He was her mate. She felt it in her bones, in her soul.
Burrowing her face against his throat, she gasped out, “Deal. No more life threatening situations.”
There was a rush of wind, then a thump to her right. A hand touched her hair briefly before Taevas’s voice cut through the murmuring on the bridge. “Well, I think that’s a job well done. Vael, you wrap up that poor new girl so she doesn’t catch a cold.” He paused, perhaps noting the way his guard had already curled his wings around her as tightly as they could go, before he added, laughing, “Ah, I see. She’ll be coming with us back to the ’Riik. And you, Captain Aman — I think you and I should take a little trip to San Francisco. I’d like to have word with your fresh-faced sovereign.”
Paloma didn’t bother looking up. Whatever happened now, she only cared about one thing: going home with her mate. Sure, she wanted to help the new elemental currently wrapped up in her own dragon, but Artem came first.
“Isand,” the captain began, finally sounding exasperated, “you can’t take the elemental, she was born in the EVP and that makes her a citizen. And you can’t just drop in on the sovereign. He’s very bus—”
“I can and I will on both counts. My man caught the girl, so she belongs to the dragons now. Isn’t that what elves believe? Whoever catches the newborn has familial rights?” He paused to make a small sound of amusement. “We’re claiming her for clan Aždaja, and if you’re so worried about it, dear Teddy will make time for me, I promise you.”
Taevas’s voice was closer when he asked, laughter in his deep voice, “You two. What would you like to do now that you’re not in immediate peril?”
Artem’s arms squeezed her hard. His claws pricked through her jacket and shirt to poke her delicate skin. His tail curled around her waist like a vice. Even his teeth closed over the side of her throat, briefly holding her between powerful jaws like he wanted to prove to her and to everyone else that she belonged to him. She loved it.
Holding each other as tightly as they could, they whispered as one, “We’re going home.”