Page 37 of Naga Warlord's Mate

“But you feel it, too? This connection?” Her fingers traced his scales, sending shivers through his body.

“Like fire in my veins.” He captured her hand, pressing it against his chest where his heart beat steadily. “Every time you’re near,it burns brighter.” His eyes locked on to hers. “You’re mine, Priscilla. My mate. And I will never let you go.”

She smiled, that radiant expression that made his warrior’s heart clench. “I felt it from the beginning. Even when you were being impossible in training.”

Andear rumbled a laugh, but his expression remained intense. “You challenged everything I thought I knew. About humans. About myself.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

The mate bond hummed, strong and undeniable. Andear had never felt more complete and more certain. His mate. His to protect. His to cherish.

Chapter 20

Priscilla

AsharpknockjoltedPriscilla from her sleep. The warmth of Andear’s body curled around her smaller frame made her want to burrow deeper into his embrace, but his muscles tensed at the sound. The knock came again, more insistent this time.

Andear’s tail unwound from her thigh as he rose, the bed shifting under his weight. The cool air rushed against her skin where his heat had been. She watched through half-lidded eyes as he pulled on loose training garb. His powerful frame moved with lethal grace even in the predawn darkness.

He yanked open the door, revealing one of his warriors. The young Niri’s scales were slick with sweat, as if he’d run here.

“Warlord, the council demands your presence. The Xirath...” The warrior’s voice dropped as he stood outside the door, where he couldn’t quite see Priscilla around Andear’s large frame. “Zarlok has demanded we accept their terms. If we refuse the moon base, they declare war.”

A low growl rumbled from Andear’s throat. His claws extended, scraping against the door. “Those serpents planned this from the start.”

Fear clawed its way up Priscilla’s throat. She slipped from the bed, wrapping one of Andear’s shirts around herself as she padded to his side. The mate bond thrummed with his rage, but underneath it she felt something else—a grim satisfaction. He’d been waiting for this fight.

“You can’t go,” she whispered, touching his arm. His scales burned hot beneath her fingers.

He turned those molten gold eyes on her. “This is what I am, mate—a warrior, a warlord.”

“You’re mine,” she shot back, gripping his arm harder. “I won’t let you—”

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I am your mate, but I am also the warlord of Nirum. And I will not let these monsters threaten what’s mine.”

Priscilla’s chest tightened. She’d just found him, just learned what it meant to be cherished instead of owned. The thought of losing him to war made her want to scream.

“Then I’m coming with you to the council’s chamber.”

“No.” His grip tightened fractionally. “You stay here where it’s safe.”

“If you think I’m going to just sit here, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Priscilla’s fingers curled into fists as she stood beside Andear in the council’s chamber. The massive room echoed with heated debates, the air thick with tension and the scent of Niri scales. Torchlight cast dancing shadows across the carved walls, making the ancient runes seem to writhe with each flicker.

She glanced up at Andear, noting how his jaw clenched tightly enough to crack his teeth. His tail moved in sharp, agitated motions—a warning sign she’d learned to read during their training sessions. The bond between them thrummed with his barely contained rage.

“The Xirath offer us advancement,” Elder Merat argued from his elevated seat, his aged scales dulled to a pale gray. “Their technology could secure Nirum’s future for generations.”

“At what cost?” Andear cut in. “Our independence? Our souls?”

Priscilla’s stomach churned.

Elder Keth, his dark green scales gleaming in the torchlight, fixed his gaze on Andear. His lip curled in a sneer that made Priscilla’s blood boil. “You clearly speak with too much emotion, warlord. Do you fight for Nirum’s honor or for the human woman at your side?”

The chamber fell silent. Priscilla felt Andear’s muscles coil beside her, ready to strike. Through their bond, she sensed his fury spike. Her own anger flared in response. These pompous politicians, safely nestled in their chamber while others suffered. They knew nothing of real honor or sacrifice.

She wanted to scream at them, to make them understand what the Xirath truly were. She’d seen their kind before, back on Jorvla—the way they’d look at humans, the casual cruelty in their eyes. The memory made her throat tight.

The deep rumble of Andear’s growl vibrated through Priscilla’s palm as she placed her hand on his arm. His scales burned hot beneath her touch, his rage radiating through their mate bond. She could feel his murderous intent toward Elder Keth, the desire to tear into the councilor’s throat for the insult.

---