Page 19 of Naga Warlord's Mate

He moved to the window. Through the glass, he watched her small form moving slowly down the street, her shoulders slumped. His chest tightened at the sight of her defeated posture. She’d come to him early this morning, per his request, ready to learn, and he’d thrown her out like a common annoyance.

“Damn it all.” His fist connected with the stone wall, his scales scraping against the rough rock. Pain shot through his knuckles, but it did nothing to dull the ache of the mate bond.

The memory of her body pressed against his chest and the softness of her skin under his hands tortured him. His scales rippled with need, and his tail lashed hard against the floor.

“This cannot happen right now.” The words came out in a growl as he pressed his forehead against the cool glass. But even as he said it, his body betrayed him. His primary member twitched, desperate for her touch. Every instinct screamed at him to chase after her, to wrap her in his arms and never let go.

His claws dug into the windowsill as he watched her disappear around a corner. The sight of her walking away from him felt wrong on a primal level, and he growled in frustration.

“Focus,” he commanded himself, but his body refused to obey. All he could think about was the way she’d felt, the soft gasp she’d made when he’d touched her, the fire in those green eyes when she looked at him.

“Stop it!”

He suddenly snatched a training staff from the rack. The mate bond burned through his veins like molten metal. He spun toward the training dummy, striking it with enough force to splinter the wooden staff.

“Weak,” he snarled at himself, grabbing another staff. His tail lashed behind him as he launched into a series of brutal attacks. The dummy’s stuffed form shuddered under each blow, straw spilling from fresh tears.

Her scent still lingered in the air. Sweet. Intoxicating. Wrong.

He roared, channeling his frustration into a devastating strike that nearly decapitated the dummy. His scales burned where they’d touched her skin, the phantom sensation driving him mad. The staff cracked against the dummy’s chest, sending more straw floating to the floor.

“I am a warlord.” Each word was punctuated by another blow.

Blood welled where splinters had pierced his palms, but the pain barely registered. He welcomed it, hoped it would drown out the insistent pull of the mate bond. His primary member pulsed traitorously, refusing to let him forget how she’d felt pressed against him.

The second staff shattered. Andear hurled the broken pieces aside, his chest heaving. Sweat dripped down his scales, but the exercise had done nothing to cool the fire in his blood.

“She’s human.” His voice echoed off the stone walls as he grabbed a third staff. “Temporary. Nothing.”

But even as he spoke the lies, her defiant green eyes haunted him. The way she’d pressed back against his body, trusting andwarm. His tail slammed against the floor as another wave of need crashed through him.

The dummy’s head snapped back under his assault. More straw rained down, mixing with drops of his blood on the stone floor. Still not enough. The pain couldn’t match the agony of denying the mate bond.

His scales felt too hot. Every breath brought her scent deeper into his lungs. The staff became a blur as he struck again and again, trying to beat the wanting out of himself.

“I will not claim her,” he growled, but his body screamed otherwise. The mate bond pulsed stronger with each denial until his vision blurred at the edges. “I will not...”

Chapter 10

Priscilla

TheXirathshipdescendedfrom Nirum’s amber sky, its silver hull catching the light of both suns. Priscilla’s stomach knotted as she watched it land. Her steps faltered slightly on the path to the palace. The vessel’s sleek design spoke of wealth and power, but something about it made her skin crawl.

“Move aside, human.” A Niri guard brushed past her, heading toward the landing pad where the Xirath delegation emerged.

The aliens moved with military precision, their scaled armor gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Though similar in height to the Niri, their builds were leaner, more serpentine. Their eyes seemed to track everything with cold calculation.

“This way.” Another guard gestured to Priscilla. “The council awaits.”

She clenched her jaw, squaring her shoulders. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting for their human show-and-tell.”

The guard’s expression darkened. “Watch your tongue.”

A familiar presence materialized beside her—Andear. His massive frame blocked out the suns, casting her in shadow.

“I’ll escort her,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.

The guard retreated immediately.

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