Page 23 of Naga Warlord's Mate

“I can handle myself,” she said firmly, that familiar defiance sparking in her green eyes.

“This isn’t about your training or your capabilities.” His voice dropped lower, meant only for her ears. “You’ve challenged the Xirath openly. They don’t forgive such things.”

“I’m not afraid of—”

“You should be.” The words came out harsher than intended, his protective instincts overwhelming his usual restraint.

Andear’s gaze swept the chamber, noting the lingering shadows where attackers could hide. His warrior’s instincts screamed danger at every corner. When he looked back at Priscilla, something in his expression must have conveyed his urgency.

She sighed, relenting. “Fine. But just this once.”

His tail uncurled slightly as relief washed through him. “Of course. You’re perfectly capable of handling yourself against trained killers who can move through shadows.”

“Was that sarcasm from the mighty warlord?” A small smile played on her lips.

“Merely an observation,” he replied flatly.

He gestured for her to walk beside him, his massive form positioned between her and any potential threats as he escorted her to her sister’s dwelling. His senses remained razor-sharp, scanning every shadow, every corner, and every possible threat along the way. The mate bond hummed with her stubborn confidence, making his scales bristle with frustration.

“I want you to stay inside after dark,” he insisted, his tail coiling protectively near her door.

Priscilla’s eyes flashed. “I’m not going to hide.”

“This isn’t about hiding. The Xirath are dangerous,” he rumbled low.

“I can handle—”

“No.” His voice dropped lower, commanding. “You cannot handle trained assassins who move through shadow. Your combat training, while impressive, won’t save you from them.”

She crossed her arms, that familiar defiance radiating through their bond. “So what, I’m supposed to live in fear?”

“No, but you’re supposed to live.” His tail curled tighter, betraying his anxiety. “Just... be vigilant. Please.”

Something in his tone must have reached her because she nodded, though reluctantly. “Fine. I’ll be careful.”

Andear watched her disappear inside before turning away. His warrior’s instincts barked at him to stay, to guard her through the night, but he forced himself to move.

Back at his den, he moved around restlessly, his tail leaving marks across the stone floor. The council chamber’s political implications should have consumed his thoughts—the Xirath’s proposal, the potential threat to Nirum’s sovereignty, the military implications. Instead, all he could see was Priscilla’svulnerable form standing before Zarlok, painting herself as a target.

His claws scraped against stone as another wave of protective fury washed over him. Let them try to harm her. Let them dare to touch what was his. He would tear through armies to keep her safe, politics and duty be damned.

When did this tiny, stubborn human become more important than his sacred duty as warlord? The mate bond pulsed in answer, reminding him that some things transcended duty.

Chapter 12

Priscilla

Priscilla’smusclesburnedasshe struck the training dummy again and again. The empty training center echoed with the sound of her fists connecting with the padded leather. Sweat dripped down her neck, her tank top clinging to her skin in the humid night air.

The doors suddenly crashed open. She spun around to find Andear filling the entrance, his massive form coiled with tension. His golden eyes blazed in the dim light.

“What are you doing here?” His voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“Training.” She turned back to the dummy, refusing to meet his gaze. Her next punch landed harder than intended, making her knuckles sting.

The whisper of scales across stone told her he was moving closer. “I told you it wasn’t safe to be alone.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have defended me today,” she blurted out, whirling around to face him.

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