Page 42 of Naga Warlord's Mate

The officers moved away, their boots crunching on the graveled ground. Only then did Andear’s grip on his weapon relax—slightly.

“We have our proof,” Mila breathed.

“No.” Andear’s tail tightened possessively. “We need more than overheard words. The council will demand evidence they cannot deny.”

Priscilla knew he was right, but the confirmation of their fears made her stomach churn. The Xirath weren’t here for partnership. They were here for conquest.

Priscilla caught Mila’s eye and tilted her head toward the ship’s entrance. Her sister nodded, understanding the silent signal. The stolen communicator from Brivul’s desk felt heavy in Priscilla’s pocket as they crept forward, their borrowed Jorvlen robes swishing against the ground. Her heart pounded, but she forced her movements to remain fluid and purposeful.

The metal hull of the ship loomed before them, its surface reflecting the moonlight in strange patterns. The acrid smell of engine fuel burned her nostrils, bringing back unwanted memories of transport ships and slave markets.

Just a few more steps. They’d rehearsed their cover story thoroughly—two informants from Jorvla with valuable intelligence about Nirum’s defenses. The kind of betrayal the Xirath would eagerly welcome.

Behind them, Andear’s presence radiated tension. She could almost feel his disapproval burning into her back, but he had agreed to let them try. The mate bond between them thrummed with his barely contained protective instincts.

“Who goes there?”

The sharp voice cut through the night. Priscilla’s muscles locked, her breath catching in her throat. A Xirath guard emerged from the shadows, his weapon trained on them with deadly precision. The crystalline core of his rifle pulsed with an ominous blue light.

Mila’s fingers dug into Priscilla’s arm. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. They needed to approach on their terms, not be caught like thieves in the night.

The guard’s scaled face twisted into a suspicious snarl. “Identify yourselves. Now.”

Priscilla’s mind raced. Their carefully planned introduction was useless now, but perhaps—

“I said identify yourselves!” The guard’s finger tightened on the trigger.

Priscilla barely had time to blink before Andear surged forward, his massive body a blur of red scales and lethal grace. The guard’s threat died in his throat as Andear’s hand closed aroundhis neck, slamming him against the ship’s hull with enough force to dent the metal. The crack of bones echoed in the night air.

“No one threatens my mate,” Andear snarled, his gold eyes blazing with primal fury.

The guard’s weapon clattered to the ground, but the noise had already done its damage. Shouts erupted from inside the ship, and the heavy thud of boots on metal announced the arrival of more soldiers.

Priscilla spun as she caught movement in her peripheral vision. A Xirath soldier lunged at her, his blade whistling through the air. She dropped and rolled, just as Andear had taught her during their training sessions. The dagger in her hand felt alive as she slashed upward, catching the soldier across his exposed throat.

“Cilla, behind you!” Mila’s warning cut through the chaos.

Priscilla ducked, feeling the rush of air as another blade passed over her head. Her muscles burned with the movement, but weeks of training with Andear had honed her reflexes. She pivoted, driving her elbow into her attacker’s solar plexus.

More Xirath poured from the ship’s entrance, their weapons glowing with deadly energy. The air crackled with the hum of charging rifles.

“There are too many,” Mila gasped, pressing her back against Priscilla’s.

Andear’s tail whipped through the air, sending two soldiers flying. His movements were fluid, deadly, but even he couldn’t hold back the tide forever. “Form up,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the din. “Triangle defense.”

Priscilla fell into position, her body remembering the countless drills. Her back pressed against Andear’s scales, feeling the vibration of his growl through her spine. The mate bond thrummed, electric with shared adrenaline.

“You were right,” she admitted, ducking another strike. “This was reckless.”

The ship’s alarm pierced the night, its wailing screech making Priscilla’s ears ring. Her heart hammered as Andear’s massive hand closed around her wrist.

“Run!” His command brooked no argument. Priscilla grabbed Mila’s wrist, forming a chain as they sprinted into the darkness.

Energy blasts sizzled past them, turning patches of ground into smoking craters. The acrid smell of burned earth filled Priscilla’s lungs as she pushed herself faster, her muscles burning from the effort. Andear’s tail whipped behind them, deflecting debris and providing cover.

“Left!” Mila gasped as another blast narrowly missed her shoulder.

They ducked behind a row of cargo containers, the metal still warm from the day’s heat. Priscilla’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. The sound of pursuing footsteps grew closer, accompanied by sharp orders in the Xirath’s guttural language.

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