Page 45 of Naga Warlord's Mate

“The reinforcements are getting closer,” Mila warned, her head turning at the sound of distant pursuit.

Andear’s tail coiled tighter around both women as he reached for his comm device. The movement sent fresh pain lancing through his side, but he ignored it. A warrior did not show weakness, especially not before his mate.

“Jorek,” he growled into the device, “gather the warriors. Emergency council session. Now.”

“At this hour, warlord?” Jorek’s voice crackled through the comm.

“Drag them from their beds, if you must.” His voice dropped lower. “The Xirath have shown their true colors. And they’ve drawn first blood.”

Priscilla’s hand pressed against his wound again, trying to stem the bleeding.

“The council needs to see exactly what their ‘peaceful delegation’ tried to do,” she murmured, her eyes fierce in the darkness.

Andear’s tail flicked in agreement as he guided them deeper into the safety of the forest. His warriors would come. And the council would learn what happened when someone dared to attack a warlord’s mate.

Chapter 24

Priscilla

Priscillaburstthroughthecouncil chamber’s doors. Blood and grime streaked her clothes, evidence of their narrow escape from the Xirath. Behind her, Andear’s imposing form filled the doorway. His black and gold scales gleamed with sweat, one hand pressed against the wound in his side. Mila followed.

The council members’ conversations died mid-sentence. Their shocked expressions might have been amusing under different circumstances, but Priscilla’s hands shook with rage as she slammed the stolen communicator onto the polished table.

“Listen,” she commanded. She pressed play before anyone could object.

The Xirath commander’s cold voice filled the chamber: “Surrender the humans, warlord, and we might let you live.”

Andear’s tail wrapped protectively around her waist as he spoke next, his deep voice resonating through the chamber despite his injury. “That’s not all. We heard them with our own ears, planning their betrayal.”

Priscilla’s fingers dug into Andear’s scales, steadying herself as much as him. Blood seeped between her fingers where she pressed against his wound. The memory of what they’d overheard made her stomach turn.

“Two officers,” she continued, meeting each council member’s gaze. “One said, ‘The council’s hesitation works in our favor. They debate while we prepare.’”

Andear’s grip tightened on her waist. “And then the other revealed their true plan: ‘Once the moon base is established, we will begin phase two—subjugation.’”

The words hung in the air. Priscilla watched the council members’ faces, searching for any sign of the outrage she felt. Some looked shocked, others skeptical. But none spoke. The silence stretched, broken only by Andear’s labored breathing beside her.

Under her hand, his muscles tensed. She could feel his restraint and knew he wanted to roar at them for their continued hesitation. But they needed the council’s support. They needed them to understand what was coming.

Mila stepped forward, medical supplies ready that a Niri guard had given her, but Andear shook his head slightly. He wouldn’t show weakness, not now. Not when everything hung in the balance. Priscilla’s heart swelled with pride and fear for her mate, even as his blood continued to seep between her fingers.

Elder Caenz’s weathered hand slammed against the council table. “The evidence is irrefutable. The Xirath seek to destroy everything we’ve built.”

Priscilla’s shoulders sagged with relief as murmurs of agreement rippled through the chamber. Her fingers remained pressed against Andear’s wound, sticky with his blood. The mate bond pulsated, making her acutely aware of his pain despite his stoic expression.

Another elder, Merat, rose from his seat. His tail coiled beneath him as he straightened to his full height. “We must prepare for war. The Xirath cannot be allowed to gain any foothold on our moons.”

Andear’s muscles finally relaxed under her touch. He sank into a nearby chair, his tail curling protectively around her ankles even as he winced. The mighty warlord might try to hide it, but Priscilla felt his exhaustion through their bond.

Mila appeared at her side with the medical supplies, her familiar presence comforting. “Let me see that wound, you stubborn warrior,” her sister said, already pulling out antiseptic.

“I am fine,” Andear growled, but Priscilla shot him a look.

“You’re not fine. Let us help you.” She pressed her hand against his chest when he tried to rise. “The council is finally listening. You’ve done enough.”

His golden eyes locked with hers, fierce even through the pain. “A warrior doesn’t show weakness.”

“Good thing I’m not asking the warrior,” Priscilla said softly. “I’m asking my mate.”

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