Page 51 of Naga Warlord's Mate

“They will earn their place,” Andear cut in, his deep voice silencing the chamber. “As she did. Through combat, through proof of worth. I will accept nothing less in my training grounds.”

Priscilla’s lips curved into a small smile. She understood. He wasn’t just protecting tradition. He was ensuring that any who followed her path would truly deserve it.

The ceremony dragged on, but Andear’s mind was already racing ahead. He needed to make things clear with Priscilla. She was his mate, and he would have her properly claimed and properly honored. No more hiding in training centers or stolen moments between battles.

His hand found the small of her back, possessive yet gentle. Soon, he would tell her everything. Soon, she would understand exactly what it meant to be the mate of a Niri warlord.

Andear’s grip tightened on Priscilla’s wrist as he led her through the palace corridors. The ceremony’s murmurs faded behind them, replaced by the sound of their movement across polished stone. His blood burned with need, with possession, with everything he’d held back during the formal proceedings.

He pushed open the door to his den, drawing her inside. The familiar scent of leather and steel enveloped them, mixed now with her presence—a softer note that somehow made everything sharper. The morning light filtered through high windows, casting patterns across the weapons mounted on the walls and across the massive bed where he’d claimed her.

Andear released her wrist but didn’t step back. He towered over her, drinking in the sight of her—battle-worn clothes, fierce eyes, the slight flush in her cheeks. She had fought beside him, killed beside him. His mate. The thought sent a surge of heat through his body.

“You’re staring,” Priscilla said, her voice carrying a hint of challenge.

Andear didn’t respond. He moved closer, backing her against the wall, caging her with his arms. Her breath hitched—not in fear but anticipation. The mate bond hummed, electric and demanding.

The air was thick with tension as he studied her face, memorizing every detail. The curve of her lips, the flecks of gold in her green eyes, the way she tilted her chin up in that stubborn defiance that had first drawn him to her.

His scales rippled with need, but he held himself still. Let her feel the weight of his presence, the intensity of his focus. She had earned this—earned him—through blood and steel. Now she would understand exactly what that meant.

Priscilla’s fingers twitched at her sides, but she didn’t touch him. Didn’t break the heavy silence between them. She matched his stare, refusing to back down even as her pulse raced beneath her skin.

The mate bond demanded completion. But Andear remained motionless, letting the tension build. He had waited this long. He could wait a little longer.

Andear’s eyes burned into Priscilla’s, the intensity of his gaze like molten metal. She was pressed against the wall of his den, her back flat against the cool stone, her chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. The scent of her filled his senses, driving him closer to the edge of control. His hands framed her shoulders, caging her in.

“You could have been taken from me,” he growled, his voice low and rough, each word laced with a possessiveness that surprised even him. The thought of her in Zarlok’s grasp, of her being ripped away from him, had haunted him since the moment he’d seen her on that battlefield. It wasn’t just the mate bond that had driven him to protect her. It was her. Her defiance, her fire, her refusal to back down even when the odds were stacked against her. She had carved a place in his life, in his very being, and he would burn the suns before he let anyone take her from him.

Priscilla lifted her head, her eyes meeting his without flinching. “But I wasn’t.” Her voice was steady, but he could hear the faint tremor beneath it, the way her pulse quickened when he leaned in closer. She was fearless but not immune to him. Good. He wanted her to feel the weight of his presence, the raw, unrelenting need that thrummed through him whenever she was near.

Andear exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound almost a snarl. She was infuriating, this human woman who had somehow become everything to him. Her stubbornness, her recklessness, her refusal to see the danger she’d been in. It all drove him to the brink of madness. Yet those very qualities had drawn him to her in the first place. She was a fighter, a warrior in her own right, and he couldn’t deny the pride that swelled in his chest when he thought of how she’d stood her ground against Zarlok.

Before she could say another word, he moved. His hands slid down her arms, gripping her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly, pinning her against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist,her body pressed flush against his. The heat of her, the softness of her curves against the hard planes of his chest, sent a jolt of desire through him. He could feel her heartbeat, rapid and wild, matching the rhythm of his own.

“You don’t get to be reckless with your life,” he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through her. “Not when you’re mine.”

Priscilla’s breath hitched, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance. “Yours?” she challenged, though her voice wavered slightly. “I don’t recall signing up for that.”

Andear’s lips curled into a feral grin, his fangs glinting in the dim light. “You didn’t have to. The moment you stepped into my training grounds, you were mine. The moment you fought beside me, bled beside me, you became mine.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails scraping against his scales. “You’re awfully possessive for someone who didn’t want me here in the first place.”

He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “I didn’t want you here because I knew this would happen. I knew you’d get under my skin, into my blood, and I’d never be able to let you go.”

Priscilla’s breath caught, and for a moment, she was silent. Then, her lips curved into a small, defiant smile. “Guess you were right.”

Chapter 28

Priscilla

BeforePriscillacouldsayanother word, Andear’s hands slid down her arms, gripping her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly, pinning her against the wall. Her legs quickly wrapped around his waist, and her body pressed flush against his.

His mouth crashed onto hers, all fire and desperation. There was no hesitation, no restraint—only raw, undeniable need. Priscilla met him just as fiercely. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer and refusing to let him go. He carried her to his bed. The weight of war, of everything they’d endured, melted away in the heat between them. This time, there was no battle to fight. No world to save. Only them. Only this.

Andear’s hands roamed over her body, claiming every inch and memorizing her like she was his salvation. His touch was both possessive and reverent, as if he couldn’t decide whether to devour her or worship her. Priscilla’s breath hitched as his claws grazed her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She arched into him, her body responding to his every move with a hunger that surprised even her.

“Andear,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

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