Page 12 of Naga Warlord's Mate

He retreated to his usual spot, but she felt his presence like a physical weight. Whatever this was between them—this tension, this unspoken thing—it grew stronger with each passing day. And judging by how quickly he looked away when she caught his eye, he felt it, too.

Chapter 6

Priscilla

Priscillawipedsweatfromher brow, adjusting her stance as she faced off against the training dummy. The afternoon sunlight beat down on the courtyard, but she’d grown accustomed to training in the heat. Her muscles had developed a familiar ache—one she wore with pride.

“The warlord’s pet human shows improvement,” a warrior muttered nearby, loudly enough for her to hear.

“She’s lasted longer than expected,” another replied. “But how long before she breaks?”

Priscilla kept her focus on her forms, though her jaw clenched at their words. The wooden staff felt natural in her hands now, an extension of herself rather than the awkward weight it had been days ago.

“Wider stance,” Andear’s deep voice commanded from behind her. His towering frame cast a shadow over her as he approached. “Your balance is off.”

She adjusted, hyper-aware of his proximity. His presence drew whispers from the gathered warriors.

“First he lets her train. Now he personally instructs her?”

“Perhaps he’s grown bored without war...”

Andear’s scales flickered with irritation as he shot a glare toward the murmuring warriors. They fell silent immediately, but their disapproving looks remained.

“Again,” he ordered, crossing his arms as he watched her move through the sequence.

Priscilla executed the drill, each movement sharper than before. She’d earned this place through sweat and determination. Let them whisper. Let them doubt. She’d prove them all wrong.

“The warlord’s gone soft,” someone whispered. “No human belongs among Niri warriors.”

“Better,” Andear said, ignoring the comments. His golden eyes tracked her movements. “Now faster.”

She pushed herself harder, aware of the growing crowd of warriors watching. Some nodded with grudging respect at her improved form. Others glared as if her very presence was an insult to their training grounds.

“She’s making a mockery of our traditions,” a warrior grumbled.

Andear’s head snapped toward the voice, his massive frame tensing. The warrior quickly looked away, but his words hung in the air.

Priscilla maintained her focus, refusing to let their prejudice affect her. She was done being weak. Done being helpless. If they wanted to whisper and glare, let them. She’d earned her place here—not through birth or tradition but through sheer force of will.

Priscilla’s muscles burned from the afternoon’s training when Vren moved into her path, his green scales gleaming with an oily sheen in the harsh sunlight. He towered over her, though not as impressively as Andear did.

“Look at this—a human playing at being a warrior.” Vren’s lips curled back, exposing sharp teeth. “You mock our sacred training grounds with your presence.”

The other warriors formed a loose circle around them. Priscilla caught glimpses of Andear at the edge of her vision, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression unreadable.

Her heart thundered against her ribs, but she kept her voice steady. “I’ve earned my place here.”

“Earned?” Vren spat the word. “You’ve earned nothing. A human will never stand among us.”

The familiar heat of defiance rose in her chest. She’d felt it countless times before—in her former master’s estate, in the markets, in every moment someone had tried to make her feel less than what she was. But this time was different. This time she wasn’t powerless.

“Then fight me.” The words left her mouth before she could second-guess them.

A ripple of murmurs spread through the gathered warriors. Andear shifted his weight, his scales catching the light as he moved slightly forward. But Priscilla met his gaze, silently pleading. She needed this—needed to prove herself, not just to them, but to herself.

Something in Andear’s eyes changed—understanding, perhaps. Or respect. He stayed where he was, giving her the slightest nod.

Vren laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. “You want to die so badly, little human?”

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