Page 27 of Daring the Drakarn Warrior Lord
He snorted. As if Rath was any more sane when it came to his own mate. He'd been lucky she was no warrior.
The sanctum fell silent again.
Somewhere in the labyrinth beyond, Terra would soon be fighting. Climbing. Surviving. Proving herself to people who would never see her worth no matter what she accomplished.
And I was stuck here, playing my role, maintaining my position, being the Warrior Lord instead of the mate who wanted to burn down anything that threatened her.
Nyx would keep her safe. I had to trust that. Had to believe in his skill and his judgment and Terra's own capability.
But trust didn't make the waiting easier.
My claws flexed again.
One hour until the Skalanth began.
One hour of not knowing if my mate was safe.
One hour of forced stillness while everything in me demanded action.
One hour of understanding exactly why Terra had done this, even as I wanted to lock her in our quarters and never let her face danger again.
"She's going to be insufferable if she succeeds," Rath observed.
"She's already insufferable."
"You love it."
I did. And I couldn't stop from grinning.
The waiting continued.
My fury simmered.
I couldn't believe she'd done something this stupid.
Except I knew my mate. And, of course she had.
8
TERRA
The gathering squareat the river's edge was packed with Drakarn bodies. Massive and scaled and radiating heat like living furnaces. I stood among them, human-small and feeling every inch of the difference. My palms were slick with sweat despite the heat.
This was possibly the stupidest thing I'd ever done.
And I willingly slept with a seven-foot-tall alien warrior, claws and wings every night, so the bar was high.
The underground river rushed past the square's eastern edge, its surface glowing faintly from the algae that clung to the rocks below. The sound of it filled the space, a constant roar that should have been soothing but instead it was amplifying every anxious thought in my skull.
I smoothed my palm over the blade at my hip. The leather wrapping on the hilt was worn smooth from use, familiar under my fingers. It helped. A little.
Around me, Drakarn warriors stretched and tested their weapons. Wings flared and folded. Tails lashed. Claws flexed. They moved with the kind of casual confidence that came from a lifetime of knowing exactly what their bodies could do. Knowing they belonged here.
I didn't belong here.
Not like I had a choice.
The decision had felt clearer last night. Lying awake while Darrokar slept, running through every conversation, every slight, every moment of being dismissed or challenged or treated like I was only relevant because of who I'd mated. The Skalanth had seemed like the answer. A way to prove I could compete on their terms, in their world, by their rules.
