Page 17 of Naga Warlord's Mate

Heat crept up Priscilla’s neck. She risked a glance at Andear, whose expression had hardened into something dangerous. His massive hands clenched at his sides, but he remained still.

“What’s wrong, pet? Lost your tongue?” Vren circled her. “Or do you only speak when your master gives permission?”

The wooden staff creaked under Priscilla’s white-knuckled grip. She focused on her breathing, on the burn in her muscles, on anything but the urge to swing at Vren’s smug face.

She straightened her spine and met his gaze directly. “I earned my place here.” Her voice came out steady and controlled. “Just like everyone else.”

Vren’s laugh was ugly. “Earned? You’re nothing but an unworthy distraction—a novelty that our warlord will tire of soon enough.”

Before Priscilla could respond to Vren’s taunts, a massive shadow fell between them. Andear moved with the fluid grace ofa predator, his powerful frame blocking Vren from her view. The air around him crackled with barely contained anger, and the training grounds fell silent.

“If she is unworthy…” Andear’s voice cut through the tension like a blade, each word precise and deadly. “Prove it in the ring. If not, hold your tongue.”

Priscilla’s breath caught in her throat. The warlord’s presence dominated the space, his broad shoulders tensed as if ready to strike. She’d never seen him quite like this—radiating such raw power and... protectiveness?

Vren took a step back, his scales shifting from aggressive green to a more submissive shade. “Warlord, I merely—”

“You merely question my judgment,” Andear growled. “Are you prepared to back your words with action?”

The challenge hung in the air. Priscilla watched as Vren’s gaze darted between her and his warlord, calculation warring with pride on his features. Finally, he lowered his head in submission.

“No, warlord. Forgive my... outburst.”

Understanding dawned on Priscilla as she watched the exchange. All this time, she’d thought Andear’s recent distance meant disapproval or regret. But now, seeing him tower over Vren, hearing the steel in his voice as he defended her right to be here, she realized she’d misread everything.

He wasn’t pushing her away. He was creating space for her to prove herself while ensuring she had the chance to do so. Every time a warrior had gone too far in sparring, every time whispers of dismissal had threatened to become actions—Andear had been there, a silent guardian maintaining the delicate balance that allowed her to continue training.

“Return to your drills,” Andear commanded, and the warriors scattered. He turned slightly, his eyes meeting hers for just a moment. In that brief connection, Priscilla saw something that made her heart beat faster—not just protection but pride.

Priscilla lay in her bed that night, staring at the ceiling as moonlight filtered through the gossamer curtains. Her muscles ached from training, but a different kind of pain kept her awake now. The memory of Andear stepping between her and Vren replayed in her mind, making her heart flutter in a way that both thrilled and terrified her.

Down the hall, she heard Mila moving around in the kitchen. Her sister’s voice drifted through the walls, probably talking to Brivul about her day at the university. Guilt gnawed at Priscilla’s conscience. She still hadn’t told Mila about the training. How could she explain that she’d found purpose in the last place anyone would expect?

She rolled onto her side, wincing as her bruised ribs protested. The way Andear had looked at her today... His golden eyes had burned with something fierce and protective, yet he’d let her stand her ground. He hadn’t swooped in to fight her battle—he’d simply ensured she had the chance to fight it herself.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. “Cilla?” Mila’s voice came through the door. “You’re usually reading at this hour. Everything okay?”

“Just tired,” Priscilla called back, trying to keep her voice casual. “Long day at the art studio.”

“You’ve beentireda lot lately.” The door creaked open, and Mila’s concerned face appeared. “Are you sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard?”

Priscilla sat up, careful to keep her movements fluid despite her sore muscles. “I’m fine, really. Just... finding my way.”

Mila sat on the edge of the bed. “You know you can tell me anything. Right?”

The weight of unsaid words pressed against Priscilla’s chest. But how could she explain about Andear? And how that every time he looked at her, she felt seen in a way she never had before? That his presence made her feel both vulnerable and invincible?

“I know,” Priscilla said softly. “I just need to figure some things out for myself first.”

After Mila left, she closed her eyes, but all she could see was the way Andear moved today—powerful, commanding, a warrior born to protect. To protect her.

Chapter 9

Andear

AndearwaitedimpatientlyforPriscilla in the indoor training center, his black scales gleaming in the early morning light that filtered through the high windows. The space felt emptier with just him in it, his tail sweeping across the floor as he moved restlessly between the weapon racks.

“Where is she?” The words escaped in a low growl. His muscles tensed as another wave of need coursed through him. The mate bond pulled at his core, an insistent ache that grew stronger with each passing moment away from her.

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