Page 36 of Naga Warlord's Mate

She turned fully in his arms, her hands coming up to rest against his chest. Her eyes met his. Before she could say anything, he kissed her, his lips claiming hers with a fierceness that left no room for doubt. She was his, and he was hers.

Andear broke the kiss, his breath heavy as Priscilla’s delicate fingers traced the network of scars across his chest. Her touch was light, curious, sending ripples of awareness through his body. When she reached the deep scar that ran from his shoulder to his elbow, she paused.

“This one looks like it nearly killed you,” she whispered, her fingertips following the jagged line.

Andear tensed, his tail coiling tighter around her legs. No one had ever touched his scars like this—with tenderness instead of fear. It made him feel exposed in a way combat never had.

“Tell me about it?” Her voice was soft, but he heard the strength behind it. She wasn’t afraid of his past.

He caught her hand in his, stilling her exploration. “You want to know about war?”

“I want to know about you.”

Andear’s jaw clenched. The memories surfaced like blood in water, sharp and spreading. “That scar came from the Battle of the Twin Moons—a Xirath blade, designed to tear through scales.” His voice dropped lower. “I was leading a charge against their frontline. They’d taken one of our outposts and were using it to stage raids on civilian settlements.”

Priscilla’s fingers intertwined with his. “What happened?”

“I killed them all.” His gold eyes darkened at the memory. “But their commander got close enough with that blade. Nearly took my arm.” His tail shifted restlessly. “I finished him with my other hand.”

She pressed closer, her body warm against his scales. “You protected your people.”

“I did what warriors do.” He traced her cheek with his free hand. “We fight so others don’t have to. We bleed so they stay safe.” His expression hardened. “But peace came, and now we train for battles that never come while threats like the Xirath hide behind politics.”

“Is that why you let me train? Because you saw something in me worth fighting for?”

Andear’s grip tightened on her hand. “I let you train because you refused to be weak. Because you fight like you have fire in your blood.” He leaned closer, his breath like fire against her neck. “And because watching you prove everyone wrong makes my warrior’s heart burn.”

A blush crept across Priscilla’s cheeks at his words, but her eyes held steady. His tail coiled closer around her, drawing her nearer as she began to speak. Her voice was quiet but carried the weight of memories he could tell she’d never shared.

“Back on Jorvla, Mila was everything to me. When our mother died, she became my shield.” Priscilla’s fingers traced absent patterns on his scales. “She’d take beatings meant for me, work double shifts.”

Andear’s muscles tensed at the mention of beatings. His protective instincts flared, even though the threat was long past. He wanted to hunt down every person who’d ever harmed her.

“Kurg—our master—he was cruel but calculating. He knew hurting one of us was the best way to control both.” Her voice hardened. “But he underestimated us—Mila and me. We learned to be strong in different ways. She became fierce. I became quick. We survived because we had each other.”

“And Brivul?” Andear prompted, his tail flexing slightly at the mention of another male, even one mated to her sister.

“He saw what was happening. He and Mila... their connection was instant. But instead of just taking her and leaving, he helped us both.” She shifted in his arms, looking up at him. “That’s why we can’t let the Xirath bring that evil here. Nirum is supposed to be different. It’s supposed to be safe.”

Andear’s hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “You speak of safety, yet you challenge the Xirath openly.”

“Because someone has to.” Her eyes flashed with that fire he’d grown to crave. “Mila protected me then. Now it’s my turn to protect others.”

The warrior in him understood this completely. His chest rumbled with approval as he pulled her closer. “Then we will protect them together. But know this—” his voice dropped lower, possessive, “I will not let you face them alone.”

Priscilla pressed her palm against his chest, right over his heart. “I know. That’s why I trust you.”

Those words hit him harder than any blade ever had. Trust. From a woman who had every reason never to trust again.

The mate bond pulsated between them, stronger than ever, a connection he could no longer ignore or deny. His tail coiled around her protectively as he brushed a strand of golden hair from her face.

“There’s something you need to know,” he said, his voice deep and rough. “About why I’m drawn to you. Why I can’t stay away.” His finger traced her jaw. “The Niri have what we call a mate bond. When we find our true mate, we feel it. Like lightning in our blood.”

Priscilla’s eyes widened slightly. “Is that what this is? This pull I feel toward you?”

Andear’s heart thundered in his chest. She felt it, too, even without knowing what it was. His mate. His. The possessiveness surged through him like a tide.

“Yes,” he growled, pulling her closer. “You’re my mate. The only one meant for me.” His tail tightened around her legs. “I tried to fight it at first. Warriors aren’t supposed to seek softness.”

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