Page 7 of Naga Warlord's Mate

She crossed the finish line one last time.

The training yard fell silent. His warriors stared in disbelief as the tiny human dropped the stone and collapsed onto her hands and knees, her chest heaving.

When she lifted her head, her smile lit up her entire face. The sight of it sent an unfamiliar warmth coursing through his veins.Pride—he realized with a start—pride in her achievement mixed with something deeper, more dangerous.

“Well?” She pushed herself to her feet, still grinning despite her exhaustion. “Do I get to stay?”

Andear fought to keep his expression stern. “You may train here.” The words came out before he could stop them. “Under my supervision only.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Dawn tomorrow,” he growled, his tail lashing at the way her joy made his chest tighten. “Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.” She bounced on her toes, wincing slightly at her sore muscles. “Thank you, warlord.”

As she turned to leave, Andear caught himself watching the sway of her hips. He snarled under his breath, forcing his gaze away. What was he thinking, allowing this? Yet the memory of her determination, her strength, her smile—it refused to leave him.

Chapter 4

Andear

Andear’stailtwitchedashe waited in the shadowed entrance of the indoor training center. The first rays of dawn barely penetrated the high windows, casting shadows across the combat arena. His scales rippled with irritation—at himself, at this situation, at the way his body tensed with anticipation.

Light footsteps soon approached. The human female appeared, her golden hair pulled back tightly, wearing a fitted training tunic and pants that highlighted her lean frame. That pull slammed into him again, making his scales bristle.

“Priscilla Hess,” she said, lifting her chin. “I didn’t properly introduce myself yesterday.”

The sound of her name sparked something in him. He tamped it down with a growl. “Follow me.”

She matched his pace as he led her inside, her presence entirely too distracting. The training clothes revealed the graceful line of her neck, the subtle strength in her arms. He shouldn’t notice these things. He was a warlord, not some fresh recruit unable to control his base instincts.

“These drills were designed to break seasoned warriors,” he said, gesturing to the obstacle course ahead. “You’ll start with fifty push-ups, followed by wall climbs, rope swings, and combat rolls. No breaks.”

“That’s all?” Her green eyes sparkled with challenge.

His tail lashed. The audacity of this tiny human, acting as if his training was nothing. “When you fail—”

“If,” she corrected.

Heat surged through his blood. “Begin.”

She dropped into push-ups, her movements precise despite her lack of training. Andear crossed his arms, forcing himself to focus on her form rather than the way her body moved. This was training, nothing more. Yet with each rep, that pull grew stronger.

“Your form is sloppy,” he snapped, though it wasn’t. “Again.”

She shot him a knowing look but complied, sweat already beginning to shine on her skin. The scent of her filled his nostrils, making his fingers flex involuntarily.

What had possessed him to allow this?

Warriors began filtering into the training center as the morning progressed. Andear kept his focus on Priscilla’s form as she executed a series of defensive stances, but his awareness stretched to every whispered comment.

“A human playing at being a warrior?” Fik, one of his younger soldiers, sneered. “What next, teaching fish to fly?”

Priscilla’s jaw tightened. She maintained her stance, her breathing controlled despite the strain.

“Higher,” Andear commanded. “Your guard leaves your throat exposed.”

She adjusted without complaint, even as more warriors gathered to watch.

---