Page 104 of Smuggler's Beauty

It filled her with rage that they were sitting in a forest teaming with life while Aiden’s was slowly drifting away. Tears burned her eyes, pouring down her cheeks. She tipped the backpack upside down, looking for something useful. Aiden had packed with her having a crisis in mind, not for this. She knelt on the ground, scattered nutrient paste and water bottles surrounding her as she howled into the trees in frustration. The thermal blanket bounced against the pack, the straps that held it on buckled firmly in place. She fumbled them open and spread the blanket over Aiden’s body.

He was so pale.

You were a fool to think this would ever last.

The thought slapped her back into reality. Now wasn’t the time to flagellate herself; now was the time to act. Maybe shewasn’t used to being treated the way Aiden treated her, but if he heard her say that to herself, he’d be severely disappointed. What would he tell her? That she was smart, and strong, and would figure it out.

She saw the screen of her communicator light up and assumed Nannette would be running to the rescue. Another glance at Aiden made Evelyn think she might not arrive in time.

She paced the path, thinking of her scant medical training. A first-aid class when she was too young to consider mortality as something that happened to real people. Adrenaline? Would that help increase his heart rate? Yes. But she didn’t see any vials in the contents of the pack chaotically strewn across the forest floor.

What was adrenaline but energy, really?

She thought about how she’d felt when the energy had been careening through her body unconfined. Her heart rate had definitely been up.

This is insane. It could kill him.

Evelyn looked at Aiden and knew that if she didn’t at least try, he might well die anyway.

She approached a tree, pressed her hands to the rough, craggy bark, and closed her eyes. In her visualization, the forest had spliced itself into her mental chamber, trees springing from the hardwood floor around her. She felt the energy of the maple, wild, untamed,alive, and she pulled with all her might, remorseless. It fought, spiraling out of her grasp, but Evelyn’s desire to reel it in was too strong for the tree to deny, and she took just enough to be useful, weaving the tendrils into a pulsing, glowing ball of life.

When she opened her eyes, the tree looked worse for wear, but it was still alive. It could still recover, given half a chance. “Thank you,” she whispered, petting the trunk.

Evelyn raced back across the clearing and placed her hands on Aiden’s chest. She closed her eyes and saw him in her mental space, bloody, barely breathing. She hovered the ball of energy above his chest and peeled off a tendril. She urged it into the man before her with sweet promises of adventure and travel, new planets to see, new skies to grow under. Slowly, the energy began to sink into Aiden’s body.

She opened her eyes and placed her ear on his chest. It seemed like the slow beats were stronger. Still too far apart for her liking, but they felt steadier. Evelyn coaxed another tendril into Aiden’s chest. Another. The second the entire ball of energy was gone, she heard him gasp.

Her eyes flew open to see his, wild and searching her face for answers. Another rush of tears poured down her cheeks as she let out a croak of laughter. He tried to lift his hand to her face, but he was weak, and his arm flopped back to the ground before he could make contact with her. She flung herself over his body, tears flowing freely now, just as Nannette and Veselko finally crashed into the clearing.

They’d gothim back to theDawnwith little trouble, the hover stretcher taking him directly to a waiting Veronique with her scanner and a frantic Lillian and Elenor. Evelyn had dashed back into the forest and pulled tendrils of energy from a dozen more trees while Cairn prepared theDawnto leave Antopolet. She had them stored in her mental vault, carefully labeled and locked down tight in case of emergency.

She woke up four times a night to make sure his heart was still beating, that she didn’t need to shock it back to work with a flood of stolen energy.

CHAPTER FIFTY

The tripback to theDawnwas fuzzy for Aiden. He mostly remembered being pissed off at himself that Evelyn was crying because he’d been an idiot, and the way the stretcher had jostled him along while he stared up at leaves.

He’d fallen asleep before they’d made it back to the ship and woke up in his quarters to Evelyn gently washing caked on blood from his neck with a washcloth. Aiden had started to protest, telling her he could clean himself up, but she’d just shaken her head and continued to work the cloth across his skin with gentle, sure swipes that had lulled him back to sleep.

The next time he opened his eyes, the room was dark. Aiden felt the familiar press of Evelyn curled next to him, her arm wrapped around his waist, her face tucked against his chest. She’d managed to get him into clean clothes. He listened to her breathe for a minute and twirled a strand of her hair through his fingers as he marveled at the woman in his arms.

Aiden had felt what she’d done. In some liminal space in his mind, he’d known he was dying. He’d lain in that forest, full of regret and shame and fury at himself, and then he’d felt the pressof energy entering his chest. Gentle threads, a little at a time, tenderly luring his body back into a functional state of operation.

The anguish he’d seen on her face before she’d opened her eyes, seen him breathing, was one he’d never forgive himself for putting there. Normally, Aiden was careful, precise, controlled. But the idea of being able to jump in and save the princess, play knight in shining armor, had gone to his head. He’d rushed forward without thinking and nearly gotten himself killed.Won’t be doing that again.Careful experimentation was his way for a reason. This was a dramatic reminder of why.

“You’re thinking too hard. Go to sleep, baby,” Evelyn said, without opening her eyes or moving her head from his chest. Aiden’s heart swelled. She’d never called him anything but his name before.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. She gave a disgruntled huff into his chest and tightened her grip on his waist.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she said, voice wavering.

He wondered if all conversations would be easier for her in the dark, if the lack of light lessened the fear of truth on her tongue. Like speaking into the void.

He abandoned the strand of hair he was twirling and ran his hand over her head. “I’m sorry, dollface.”

“I know.” He felt her smirk against his chest. “You talk in your sleep.”

Well, shit.