Page 13 of Naga Warlord’s Mate (Nagas of Nirum #3)
Andear
Moonlight filtered through the windows of the training center, casting silver patterns across the stone floor. Andear’s tail coiled protectively around Priscilla as she lay nestled against his chest, her breathing now soft and even.
His fingers traced idle patterns along her arm, memorizing every curve and detail. The mate bond hummed contentedly between them, a steady warmth that filled the hollow places he hadn’t known existed within him.
The restlessness that had plagued him for years was finally quieted. The warrior in him, always searching for the next battle, found an unexpected peace in simply holding her. His eyes studied her face in the dim light, noting how the shadows played across her features.
A cool breeze whispered through the training center, and she instinctively pressed closer. His arms tightened around her, his scales shifting to provide more warmth. The warrior in him thrilled at how perfectly she fit against him, how naturally she sought his protection.
The stone floor beneath them should have been uncomfortable, but Andear barely noticed. His focus remained entirely on the small human who had somehow breached every defense he’d built. His tail adjusted its grip, keeping her secure against him.
In the distance, night birds called to each other, their songs echoing off the palace walls. The familiar sounds of his domain continued around them—the shuffle of guard patrols, the rustle of wind through the training banners—but for once, Andear paid them no attention. His world had narrowed to this moment, to the steady rise and fall of her chest against his own.
Priscilla shifted against him, her soft skin sliding against his scales. She tilted her head up, and his breath caught at the sight of her radiant smile. No fear clouded those green eyes—only warmth and something deeper that made his chest tighten. The mate bond hummed, a constant reminder of what he’d just done, what he’d taken.
His warrior’s instincts suddenly screamed at him. She was human. Fragile. The council would never accept this. His position as warlord demanded certain things, certain traditions be upheld. The weight of duty pressed down on him like a physical force.
The moonlight caught the slight sheen of sweat still on her skin, highlighting the small scars that marked her past. Each one made his protective instincts surge, even as his rational mind fought against it. He couldn’t protect her. He shouldn’t protect her. This wasn’t meant to happen.
His tail wrapped tighter around her thigh, betraying his inner conflict. Even as his mind rejected this, his body refused to let her go.
“This should not have happened,” he said, his voice rough with suppressed emotion. The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but duty demanded he speak them.
Priscilla’s eyes locked on to his, challenging and direct. “Then why did you let it?”
The question hit him like a physical blow. His body still burned where she’d touched him, the taste of her lingering on his tongue. He’d taken her with a desperate hunger he’d never known before, claimed her with a ferocity that should have frightened her. Instead, she’d matched his passion with her own, surrendering and demanding in equal measure.
The mate bond pulsated stronger, mocking his attempt at distance. His fingers skimmed along the curve of her shoulder unconsciously, his scales rasping gently against her skin. Andear’s tail coiled tighter around her, betraying his need to keep her close even as his mind warred with itself.
“Why did you let it happen?” Priscilla pressed again, her eyes searching his face.
The question twisted something deep inside him. The mate bond sang through his blood, demanding he claim her fully, marking her as his own. But the words stuck in his throat. How could he explain what she was to him? What this meant for a Niri warlord?
His hand slid up to cup her face, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone. She leaned into his touch, trusting and open. The gesture made his chest tighten. No one had ever looked at him like that before—without fear, without reservation.
“You should fear me,” he growled, even as his body curved protectively around her smaller form. “I am not gentle.”
“I’ve never wanted gentle,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the scar on his arm.
Andear’s eyes darkened at her words, his pupils dilating until only a thin ring of gold remained. The warrior in him roared to life, wanting to show her exactly how dominant he could be. His tail shifted, his scales sliding against her soft skin as he pulled her even closer.
The mate bond throbbed between them, demanding recognition, but he held back. She deserved to know everything before he claimed her completely. Before he marked her as his mate in ways that could never be undone.
She pressed herself against his chest, fitting perfectly against him as if she’d been made for him. The action nearly broke his restraint again. His arms tightened around her, one hand tangling in her hair as he fought against telling her everything.
Not yet. Not until he was sure she was ready to hear it. Not until he knew she wouldn’t run from what it meant to be bound to a Niri warlord for life.
Andear’s head snapped up at the sound of approaching footsteps outside the training center’s windows. His warrior instincts kicked in instantly. His muscles tensed as he calculated the distance and time until whoever it was would reach the training center’s entrance.
“Clothes. Now,” he commanded, already moving with fluid grace. His tail unwound from Priscilla as he snatched up her scattered garments, tossing them to her with precise accuracy. The mate bond thrummed with shared urgency as she caught them mid-air.
His clothes lay in pieces around them. He quickly dressed while scanning the room for any evidence of their encounter. The footsteps grew closer—just one set, he realized.
Priscilla struggled with the ties of her training vest. Without hesitation, Andear slithered behind her, his large hands making quick work of the laces. “Your hair,” he murmured, noting how disheveled she looked.
She ran her fingers through the golden strands, trying to smooth them. Andear’s tail coiled restlessly as he listened to the approaching steps. Twenty seconds, maybe less.
“Training stance,” he ordered, moving to position himself across from her. His scales rasped against the stone floor as he adjusted his posture to appear as if they’d been practicing defensive forms. “Look exhausted.”
“That won’t be hard,” Priscilla muttered, falling into the stance he’d taught her earlier that week. The corner of his mouth twitched despite the tension.
The slithering halted just outside. Andear’s hands found Priscilla’s shoulders, adjusting her form as any instructor would. His touch lingered a fraction too long, the mate bond making it nearly impossible to maintain professional distance anymore.
“Your guard is too low,” he said, his voice carrying just enough for anyone entering to hear. “Again.”
The training center door swung open, and Andear’s scales bristled at the interruption. Jorek, one of his younger warriors, slithered in with practiced silence. The warrior’s eyes widened slightly at finding his warlord training here at this late hour, but he maintained his composure.
“Warlord, the council has summoned you.” Jorek’s gaze flickered briefly to Priscilla before returning to Andear. “They say it’s urgent.”
The council. Of course they would interrupt now. Andear’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he considered the timing. The Xirath were likely behind this late-night summons.
“Very well,” Andear replied, his tone holding the weight of command despite the lingering heat in his blood. He turned toward the door, his powerful tail propelling him forward with grace.
But he couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not without making sure she understood.
He paused, twisting his upper body to look back at Priscilla. She stood exactly where he’d left her, maintaining the training stance with perfect form. Pride and possession surged through him at the sight.
“Stay,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear the rough edge of need in it. The word carried more meaning than a simple command. It was a promise and a claim.
The mate bond pulsed as their eyes met. Priscilla gave a slight nod, her face carefully neutral, but Andear caught the slight quickening of her breath.
His tail twitched with the effort of turning away from her. He reluctantly followed Jorek out of the training center, every scale on his body aware of the distance growing between him and his mate.
Andear’s tail moved swiftly across the polished palace floors as he followed Jorek. Every muscle in his body tensed with the growing distance between him and Priscilla. The mate bond tugged at him, urging him to return to her.
“The timing of this summons concerns me,” he said, his voice low enough that only Jorek could hear. The younger warrior’s tail twitched nervously.
“The Xirath delegation was seen entering the council’s chamber not long ago,” Jorek admitted.
Andear’s jaw clenched as he fought to turn back. Priscilla was alone in the training center—vulnerable. The thought made his blood burn. He’d left her there, exposed, when the Xirath were prowling about.
“Send Krav to guard the training center,” he ordered, his voice carrying the edge of a growl. “Tell him to stay out of sight but watch for any... unexpected visitors.”
Jorek’s eyes widened slightly at the command, but he knew better than to question his warlord. “Yes, sir.” He slithered away quickly to relay the order.
The mate bond throbbed insistently as Andear approached the council’s chamber. His protective instincts commanded him to return to Priscilla, to wrap his tail around her and keep her safe from whatever game the Xirath were playing. But duty called, and a warlord could not ignore the council—even if every scale on his body urged him to do just that.