* * *
When the rebels had put their hands on Rosalie, Trey felt the power of fire raging through him and gratefully he unleashed it, not knowing how the transformation would turn out but determined to save her. He’d reveled in becoming the dragon and the desire to take complete revenge on the men who’d dared to touch his mate was overwhelming. Releasing his flame was almost orgasmic, exhilarating him and prompting him to be even more feral, more terrible in his revenge. Trey retained enough control over his dragon form not to attack the first responders who’d shown up and he had to go into the inferno the bungalow had become, thanks to hm, and rescue Rosalie.
It was difficult to control his body when it came to delicate tasks like carrying his woman but he concentrated so hard he was shaking and managed not to hurt her. If he ever caused any harm to come to Rosalie he’d end himself and both he and the dragon knew it.
The first responders were afraid to get near her with him lurking over her. Thank the gods for Maxxil, who although obviously had a healthy dose of fear, managed to get in his face and talk him into setting her on the grass and then moving away. Maxxil walked with him, talking in a steady tone the whole time, reassuring him the medics would take care of Rosalie and asking him to shift back into the human form.
“There are things you need to see to, your highness,” Maxxil said persuasively. “There might be more of these terrorists on Resort Planet. There needs to be a proper resolution of these events and you can’t take command in this form. Rosalie will need to see you and talk to you when she’s regained consciousness—you’re going to have to reassure her about what happened. We need you to be the prince right now, not the dragon. The immediate danger has passed. You took care of the assailants before we even arrived.”
Gradually Maxxil’s calm, common sense statements penetrated the joint mind of the prince and the dragon and as easily as closing his eyes and willing himself to return to the form of the man, Trey stood there barefoot and naked in the cold night air.
“Thank the gods,” Maxxil said, immense relief in his voice.
“Clothes, I need clothes,” Trey said. “And food. I’m starved.”
Maxxil spoke in his subaural com, issuing crisp orders and then took off his jacket to hand the prince, who knotted it around his waist. “Come to the command post in the hotel, sir, and everything you need will be waiting. I have a groundcar right over here.”
Trey pivoted to check on Rosalie. “She’s to have a fulltime security detail,” he said, “Starting right now. She’s incredibly precious to me, Max. She’s my fated mate.”
“I think we all figured that out, your highness,” Maxxil said with a chuckle. “Let’s get done what needs to be accomplished as a result of this attack and you can get back to her.”
“I have to com my parents,” Trey said, finally walking toward the groundcar. “They need to hear from me that I’m all right.”
Delain was there, at the car. “On behalf of IDA, allow me to express my shock and horror regarding these events tonight, your highness.”
“We all agreed we’d taken adequate security measures,” the prince said, unwilling to place unfair blame. “We’ll know we have to do better in the future.”
“Then you’re not going to terminate the program?” Clearly surprised, Delain did a doubletake.
“The program was working remarkably well,” Trey said. “I found my fated mate after all. Ardanna has no desire to pull out. We just have to rethink security.” He got into the groundcar and offered Delain his hand. “Thank you for your security force’s timely arrival.”
“Someone pushed the bungalow panic button,” Delain said. “My Security chief was dumbfounded but correctly assumed there must be a bigger situation going down so he alerted your people and a full contingent rolled out.”
“Panic button, eh?” Trey thought it over. “I didn’t even know there was such a thing so Rosalie must have done it. Smart girl. Get in, Delain, we have work to do so I can rejoin her sooner rather than later.”
* * *
Rosalie came awake with a gasp, disoriented. She was lying on a firm mattress in what was obviously a medbay but not the same one she’d been in after her encounter with the gellifish. Sensors and treatment devices lifted away from her as she sat up, to find Maxxil planted in a chair beside the bed.
“You’re aboard the prince’s ship,” he said, anticipating her question. “He insisted you be brought here and that I accompany you.”
“Where is he? Is he all right?” she asked, hand to her heart.
“Treylon is fine. He’s still on the planet, co-ordinating a response to the terrorist incident. He’ll be here as soon as he can. In the meantime you should rest and recuperate. The doctor said you have a mild concussion and a bad case of smoke inhalation, plus a few bruises but everything has been treated. Corilly oversaw the whole process.”
“She’s here too?” Rosalie glanced around the room.
“The prince insisted she accompany me. He thought you’d be more comfortable with a human doctor at your side.”
She leaned close to him. “Are you and she?—”
“I’m pretty sure we are,” Maxxil said, cheeks stained red.
“We are what?” Corilly said, entering the room, carrying two coffees.
“A matched pair,” Rosalie replied with glee. “I’m so happy to hear it.”
“Well, there are things to be worked out,” Corilly told her. “I have obligations at home, to my patients, my employer and other entanglements, but we’ll work it out. We’re not rushing into anything. How do you feel?”
