Page 40 of Naga Warlord's Mate

Mila’s hands clenched. “And you didn’t think to tell me? After everything we’ve been through?”

“I wanted to protect you,” Priscilla said softly.

“Like I protected you?” Mila’s voice was sharp, but Andear caught the undertone of hurt.

“You understand the mate bond,” Andear interjected, his deep voice filling the room. “You felt it with Brivul. Would you have denied it?”

Mila’s shoulders slumped slightly. “No. But this isn’t just about the mate bond. Is it? You’re planning something dangerous.”

Andear’s tail tightened around Priscilla’s chair as she outlined their plan to infiltrate the Xirath ship. Every word felt like poison in his ears, but he remained silent. His mate had made her choice, and he would rather be by her side than watch helplessly from afar.

“You want me to hack their systems?” Mila’s eyes narrowed. “Do you remember what happened the last time we tried something like this on Jorvla?”

“This is different,” Priscilla insisted. “We’re not slaves anymore. We have training, resources, and support.”

Andear watched the sisters, noting the same stubborn set to their jaws, the same fire in their eyes. His gut churned with dread. They would do this with or without his blessing, and that knowledge ate at him like acid.

“If anything happens to her...” he growled, leaving the threat unfinished.

Mila met his gaze steadily. “She’s my sister. I’ve been protecting her longer than you’ve known her.”

The silence stretched, filled with unspoken fears and determination. Finally, Mila nodded slowly. “I’ll help. But we do this my way.”

Andear’s jaw clenched tightly as he listened to Mila outline her plan. His scales rippled with tension, each word making his protective instincts surge stronger. The small living space felt suffocating, filled with the scent of his mate’s determination and her sister’s calculated precision.

“The outer encampment has weak points here and here.” Mila’s finger traced lines on the crude map she’d drawn. “Their security protocols are predictable. They expect submission, not resistance.”

Andear’s jaw clenched tighter. “And what story will you spin to gain their trust?”

“We pose as informants, dressed in clever disguises, saying we have details about the council members who oppose the Xirath presence.” Mila’s eyes gleamed with a cunning that reminded him of Priscilla. “They’ll be eager for any advantage they can get.”

His tail lashed out. The thought of Priscilla anywhere near those monsters made his blood run hot. But the mate bond sang, reminding him of her strength and her capability.

“Once inside,” Mila continued, “I can access their communication systems. Every empire keeps records of their true intentions. The Xirath won’t be any different.”

Priscilla leaned forward, her golden hair falling across her shoulder. “How long will you need?”

“Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen.” Mila’s expression hardened. “But if we’re caught—”

Andear’s hand shot out, gripping Priscilla’s chin. He turned her face toward him, his eyes burning into hers. The mate bond pulsed with his fear and his need to protect her.

“If anything goes wrong,” he growled, his thumb brushing her lower lip, “you run. You do not hesitate.”

Priscilla held his gaze, defiant even in submission. She nodded slowly, but Andear saw the lie in her eyes. His mate would never abandon him or her sister. It was one of the things he loved about her—and one of the things that terrified him most.

His tail wrapped possessively around her, pulling her closer. She was his to protect. And now she was asking him to let her walk into danger without him.

Andear suddenly rose up to his full height in the small living space, his scales rippling with barely contained fear. The discussion of this suicide mission had gone on long enough. His mate and her sister sat there, calmly plotting their own deaths while he watched.

“Enough.” His voice cut through their planning like a blade. Both women turned to look at him, Priscilla’s eyes narrowing at his tone. “I will not sit here and listen to this madness any longer.”

“Andear—” Priscilla started, but he silenced her with a look.

“If you insist on this foolish plan, I will accompany you,” he growled, leaving no room for argument. “I am a warlord, trained in stealth when needed. My presence will increase your chances of survival.”

Mila’s eyes widened slightly. “A Niri warrior of your size isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“Better conspicuous than dead,” he growled. “I can move silently when required, and my strength will be necessary if things go wrong.”

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