Page 21 of The Naga Princess's Soldier Mate

Can I save him? We had barely saved ourselves; death still surrounded us on all sides. The angry looks on the faces of these Bitter Storm males made me wonder how long the threat to their King would even hold them back—not long, I was willing to bet.At some point, they’d decide they had enough. Sazzie looked at me with those big, luminous blue eyes, and I could not deny her anything. Besides, Khawla deserved a shot at life. After what he’d done to save Sazzie, I had to try.

Handing Sazzie my knife, I told her to keep him under tight control. “Tell them we’ll let him go if the three of us get safe passage out of their territory.” Then I went to my knees at Khawla’s side, shrugged out of my shirt, and pressed it to the gaping wound in his abdomen. The injury to his right eye was bad too, but I had to conclude it wasn’t life-threatening. The gut wound would get him first in any case.

My first-aid skills were a little rusty; I had not needed them much as a Shadow Unit soldier. Apply pressure, but then what? I did not have any supplies—not a med kit, a tissue regenerator, or even a bandage. And though I pressed hard against that wound, the bleeding was not stopping. We did not have long. I looked up from Khawla, snarled a warning at the warriors that surrounded us before I twisted my head to look at Sazzie. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted to her. “I’m not a healer! And his wounds are really bad. I know we owe him, but I don’t think I can save him. I’m sorry.”

Sazzie glanced from Aser, who had begun to stir at her feet, to me with a soft look in her eyes. Then her arms shimmered with silver light that pooled in the palms of her hands. The markings spread, their glow curling down her chest, teasingly beneath the leather band that covered her breasts, then curling around her belly button and over her hips. They were proof that I had not imagined seeing them earlier—she had mating marks just like the males of her species. That glow caused the whole cave tohush again in stunned silence, and that alone told me just how special it was that Sazzie glowed for me.

My skin tingled in response, and though I knew I had no mating marks that could glow for her, my nanobots did not seem to have gotten that memo. They moved beneath my skin, rising to the surface in streaks across my bare arms and chest. They did not quite glow with light, but their silvery material made up for that. We matched.

“I know,” she said gently. “He’s dying. That’s why you are his only chance. Your machines, Reid. Can you give him some of those? They heal you.” Ah damn, that was clever thinking on her part, and it proved she’d begun to understand more and more of the technology inside me. My clever mate. My nanobots had clashed viciously with the Naga-made nano-healing bots I had been exposed to. Did that mean the horde of microscopic machines inside me was dangerous to a Naga? Maybe. But he was dying anyway; it was worth a shot.

“Abominations! Both of you, twisted, sick, filthy mongrels!” Aser hissed, rousing just in time to display his bigotry. I reached out and slapped him upside the head—not hard enough to knock him out, but definitely hard enough to rattle his teeth together. He hissed with fury, displaying his lack of front teeth, and Sazzie, beautiful angel that she was, wrapped her tail around his neck and squeezed.

Ignoring the spluttering King and Sazzie as she once again addressed the crowd that stared at us from far too close, I focused on Khawla. This time, I pulled my blood-drenched shirt away from his wound and slipped my fingers around the broken spear still lodged in it. It came free with a sucking noise thatmade me wince, and it made Khawla jerk and moan weakly. “That’s it, buddy,” I told him. That moan was hopeful; it meant there was more life in him than I thought there was.

From my pocket, I yanked the pilfered metal nail I’d found in our jail cell earlier. I held it up with a hint of trepidation, but Sazzie still had full control of the Bitter Storm king. She also had my knife, which was why I resorted to grabbing the nail. Slashing a cut across the palm of my hand, I hissed as I forced blood to drip from the wound into Khawla’s. This was breaking all the rules I knew about wound care—about sanity, about contamination. Then again, it wasn’t like we could keep a wound sterile in these conditions. The male was dying, and this was a long shot—a very long shot.

Of course, my nanobots eagerly fixed the wound inmyhand, but they did nothing for Khawla. Unwilling to give up that quickly, I scratched another cut across my palm and pressed it against his injury. At the same time, I tried as hard as I could to will my nanobots not to heal my injury just yet. “Heal him, damn it! I need you to heal him!”

This wasn’t going to work, and as I stared into Khawla’s heavy-lidded gaze, it turned vacant, unseeing. There was a particular look to the eyes of a dead person—a flatness that only came from one thing: death. Resigned, I sat back on my haunches and allowed my nanobots to heal the slash across my palm. We had lost him. Now I had to think about the living, about my angel, and nothing else. Our situation was getting more dire, and it wouldn’t be long before it escalated into violence.

Sazzie and I shared a look—hers sad but as resigned as I felt. Then I took control of our royal hostage and, with it, I hoped, control of the situation.

Chapter 17

Sazzie

I had a hard time with my emotions right then; there were a lot of them clamoring for attention, big ones like sadness for Khawla and for the younglings he was leaving behind. I knew that Reid had tried, that my idea was a crazy one to begin with, but it still hurt to see the male die. If not for him, it would have been me dying inside this gloomy Bitter Storm fight pit. It felt selfish to be relieved that I wasn’t dead, that I had another chance at a life with Reid. Those younglings needed their father more than Reid needed me.

There was no time to untangle the rest of my feelings; Khawla’s death was at the forefront, anyway. I could not stop glancing at his damaged body—at the destruction caused to his abdomen by Astrexa’s blow, or the injury to his eye. I did know that I did not want to leave him behind, even dead. That wasn’t right.

Reid had wrested Aser off the ground and was holding him tightly by the throat again. He was making demands that the Naga could not understand, and I forced myself to pay attention and translate. “We are leaving,” I said firmly, trying to mimic the commanding way Reid spoke. “Safe passage for us, and you can have your King back.” They were unsure—I could see that in the eyes of the nearest Naga, as if they were wondering if they evenwantedtheir King back at this point.

Impulsively, I said the first thing that came to mind, speaking before Reid could come up with another threat for me to translate. “Let us go, and you will not bring down the wrath ofThunder Rock upon yourselves. They will not take lightly the death or imprisonment of their Queen! They will punish you for taking the life of their Master Scout. Your Clan is starving; you are dying out without females. You cannot afford another war. Let us go, all of us, now!”

Aser finally started to struggle in Reid’s grip, but it was clear he was no match for my mate’s strength. “Don’t listen to her. When we fall, the Revenants will conquer Thunder Rock. It will be exactly what they deserve!” His eyes glowed with a fanaticism I did not expect; I thought he was more conniving than this. “They are relic lovers, abominations, all of them! They deserve to die.” He seemed to desire vengeance and mutual destruction more than he desired to survive. That surprised me, because, so far, all he’d done had been to improve his position and ensure survival. He’d been willing to arrange a mating with Astrexa just to gain power over Thunder Rock not that long ago. Now, he was telling his Clan to condemn themselves to death so that Thunder Rock would fall to the Revenants.

It did not appear to please his Clanmales, and, finally, that jarred them into motion. Two slightly older males separated themselves from the crowd, followed by a Naga female with a chain wrapped around her neck. She had her head downcast, but a furious expression glittered in her eyes. “Safe passage for all of you,” the first of the two males agreed. He raised his hands to hush the crowd when it began to murmur uneasily. “We are not dying out; we will survive. Bitter Storm is strong! But this female is right: we do not need more death and war.”

Another male came from behind us, separating himself from the crowd and puffing up his chest. My stomach revolted when I saw him because he was the orange-speckled male who had been myguard so much of the time. That male had leered at me more than once, making me feel dirty, touched. I did not trust him. “Nobody gave you the right to speak for Bitter Storm, Thrasos. And we are not letting a Thunder Rock Queen walk! She is our leverage against the Clan! We will use her to force them to give us food; we will be strong again.”

“Oh, boy,” Reid muttered under his breath. “They’re splintering into factions right before our eyes. This isn’t good.” He was right. On the heels of the orange-speckled male, another spoke up, and then another. They all had different opinions on how to solve this situation, but they all seemed to agree that Aser was no longer important. They were going to start fighting each other, and we’d be caught in the middle.

“Now what?” I asked quietly, spinning in place slowly so I could keep an eye on all the different—by now loudly shouting—males. It seemed there were several who had enough clout to grab for power, and males were gathering behind each of their chosen leaders. Bitter Storm had drastically reduced in numbers since they had fought my Clan several months ago, but it was still a very impressive crowd.

“Hold this for a second,” Reid said, and he slung Aser around. I caught the former King and grappled him tightly around the neck, pressing Reid’s knife against his scales to keep him from fighting. My scales shivered with unease along my spine; I did not like holding this male, nor did I like the way many of them were now glaring at him and at me. The crowd was growing more and more riled, and they were beginning to shout accusations at Aser—things like mate-killer, female-hater, destroyer of Clans, liar, and promise-breaker.

Loudest was the guard with the orange speckles, and he spoke fervently of holding me hostage, keeping me captive, and using us against Thunder Rock. Most of the others just wanted to get rid of us, but his faction was quickly gaining more backing. Reid moved so fast I hardly saw him move—a blur of gleaming muscle, intricate ink markings, and sheer determination. He kicked the broken spear tip he’d pulled from Khawla off the ground and launched it through the air. It struck the speckled male in the center of his chest, and silence instantly reigned.

Darting away from me, he reached the male as he began to lurch forward, a sharp metal spike in his hand that he planted beneath the male’s chin, driving it up through his jaw. “This is what I’ll do to all those who oppose our freedom. And I can keep going forever,” Reid said as he pulled back his hand, allowing the male to crash to the ground. My mate held up his wrist, which had been pierced by the speckled male’s chin horn during that final strike. As I translated his words for everyone, the wound began to knit together, healing before our eyes. It drove home his point: I can do this forever. I heal—can you keep up?

Then I added, “Once we are safe, you can have this worm to punish as you see fit. He’s the one you want, not us. He’s the one who led you to this!” I gestured with a hand, then lurched forward to keep a firm hold on my hostage. Aser was stronger than he looked, and whatever escape plan he’d had in mind, he now saw it dwindling before his eyes. Beneath his breath, he began to offer me riches and treasures, troves of golden jewelry, as a reward for his safety.

I wanted to laugh, even as I was tempted just a little by the promise of shiny baubles. If this is what he’d offered Astrexa, it was no surprise she’d readily agreed to be his ally. It was auniversal truth that we all loved gold, and those with status had the most of it. But I was not Astrexa or Evarah; I did not want those shiny things more than I wanted to do the right thing, and to be with Reid. So I bared my fangs at him and hissed, “Never.”

Reid’s demonstration was getting us the desired results anyway. The newly arisen faction leaders were now huddling together for a quick conference. It did not seem like their decision was a hard one; within moments, males raced off, only to return with a wooden cart. They were rude and careless as they tossed both Astrexa’s and Khawla’s bodies onto it, but a path was cleared for us at the same time. Suddenly, we were moving. Reid dragged Aser by the arm, his other arm around my shoulders protectively as we began to head toward an exit. I could not wait to leave this pit, this darkness, behind.

“Almost there,” Reid whispered against my hair. “We’re going to make it, my love.” My heart leaped hopefully in my chest at the sound of those words, and I dared to believe it. Yes, we were going to make it. Weweregoing to be fine. Reid had kept me safe, protected me, and taken care of me. But I had done the same for him, and I felt so proud of that.

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