Page 3 of Naga Warlord’s Mate (Nagas of Nirum #3)

Andear

Andear drew himself to his full height near the ancient column of the training grounds. His black scales gleamed in the sunlight as he loomed over the small human female. The same one had caught his attention at the palace gates, though he’d hoped to dismiss that moment as nothing more than idle curiosity. Now, with her standing before him, that pull intensified tenfold. Her scent—like sun-warmed honey and something uniquely feminine—threatened to cloud his judgment.

“These grounds are restricted to warriors and those in training.” His voice dropped to a dangerous rumble. “You endanger yourself and distract my warriors. Leave. Now.”

The human lifted her chin, a gesture that should have been laughable, given their size difference. Her throat worked, betraying her nervousness, but she held her ground. The defiance in those green eyes sparked something deep in him—a challenge he hadn’t faced in far too long.

Her continued silence grated against his patience. “Why are you here?” The words came out as a growl.

“Because no one else will let me do anything that matters,” she finally replied.

The raw honesty in her voice struck him like a physical force. Something unwelcome stirred in his chest—an echo of his own search for purpose in these times of peace. Their eyes locked, neither willing to look away first.

A foreign emotion—was it pity? Understanding?—twisted in his gut, making him want to snarl. He didn’t care for the way it made him feel, how it made him want to...what? Help her? Protect her? Ridiculous.

Andear circled her, his large frame casting a shadow over her small form. The sunlight caught the gold undertones of his black scales, a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her scent—that damned distracting scent—grew stronger as a bead of sweat rolled down her neck.

“Humans do not train with Niri warriors. That is not our way.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue, too close to the council’s rhetoric about tradition and proper places.

“Your way?” She spun to face him, her golden hair whipping around her shoulders. “Your way keeps humans in neat little boxes. Cook. Clean. Bear children. Is that all we’re good for?”

The challenge in her voice stirred something in him—respect, perhaps, though he’d never admit it.

His tail shifted against the ground, betraying his unease. “You mock our traditions without understanding them. These warriors train to protect our people—all our people, including humans like you.”

“Then let me protect myself.” She stepped closer, close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in her green eyes. “I won’t sit around waiting for someone to hand me a life worth living.”

Her words echoed his own restlessness. The similarity unsettled him. He wanted to dismiss her, to send her away with sharp words about knowing her place. Instead, he found himself recognizing the determination in her stance, the way she held herself like a warrior despite her size.

“You have no training, no experience in combat. You would break like a twig against even our youngest recruits.”

“Try me.”

The words hung between them, charged with defiance. His warriors watched the exchange with poorly concealed interest. Andear’s muscles twitched. This small human female dared to challenge him, to question centuries of tradition. He should have been outraged.

Instead, he felt alive for the first time in months.

Andear’s tail coiled with anticipation as he studied the human female. Her defiance awakened something in him—a desire to test, to challenge, to dominate. His warriors had stopped their drills entirely now, gathering at the edge of the training grounds like shadows.

“You want to prove yourself?” He circled her again, letting his massive presence emphasize the difference between them.

“Name your challenge.” Her quick response pleased him, though he kept his expression stern.

He gestured toward the far wall where smooth black stones lay stacked. “Those weights. You’ll carry them across the field and back.”

“That’s it?”

“Those stones have broken warriors twice your size, little human.” The endearment slipped out mockingly. “Each weighs almost as much as you do. The heat will sap your strength. The ground will burn your feet.”

Her eyes narrowed at his condescending tone. “How many trips?”

“Until you break.” He bared his teeth in what might have been a smile. “Or until you prove yourself worthy of my time.”

“And if I succeed?”

“If?” He laughed, the sound echoing across the stone courtyard. “When you fail, you’ll leave these grounds and never return. But should you somehow endure...” He paused, savoring the moment. “You may stay and watch.”

She stepped closer, craning her neck to meet his gaze. “I want to participate, not watch from the sidelines.”

His tail lashed. “Prove you can endure this task first. Then we’ll discuss what you’re worthy of.”

The human’s jaw clenched, but she nodded. “When do we start?”

Andear glanced at the twin suns climbing toward their peak. The heat already shimmered off the cracked stone ground. Perfect conditions to break this foolish female’s spirit.

Andear crossed his arms, his scales glinting in the harsh sunlight. “How about right now?”

The human female stepped forward without hesitation, her chin lifted in that infuriating display of defiance. His warriors gathered closer, their whispers carrying across the training ground.

“Look at her size—”

“She won’t last five steps—”

“The warlord will break her—”

Andear silenced them with a sharp glance. He watched as she approached the first stone, her small hands wrapping around its rough surface. The stone was nearly as wide as her torso. She planted her feet, her muscles straining as she lifted.

Something shifted within him as she took her first steps. Her determination radiated off her in waves, mixing with that intoxicating scent. His tail twitched, betraying his interest.

“Your form is wrong,” he called out, circling her as she struggled forward.

She adjusted without acknowledging him, her breathing already labored. The twin suns beat down mercilessly, but she pressed on.

His warriors’ whispers changed tone.

“She’s still going—”

“Stronger than she looks—”

Her arms shook violently, her steps becoming uneven, yet she refused to drop the stone. The spirit of a warrior burned in those green eyes—untrained, untapped, but unmistakable.

The pull toward her intensified with each step she took. His instincts screamed at him to stop this, to protect her from this brutal test. But the warrior in him recognized this moment for what it was—the forging of something new, something unexpected.

“Your body’s giving out,” he rumbled, noting how her knees threatened to buckle. “There’s no shame in knowing your limits.”

She shot him a glare that could have melted steel. “I’m. Not. Done.” Each word came out between gasping breaths as she forced herself forward.

The scent of her determination, her pain, her refusal to yield—it all combined to drive him half-mad with the need to claim her. To protect her. To break her and rebuild her into something magnificent.

What was this tiny human doing to him?

Andear’s tail swished across the ground as he watched the human female make her first return trip. Her muscles trembled with each step, but her grip on the stone remained firm. The sight stirred something primal in him—a mix of admiration and the urge to dominate.

“Your shoulders are dropping,” he called out, circling her like prey.

She adjusted, her jaw clenched in concentration. The second trip began, her feet dragging slightly against the scorched ground. Sweat darkened her golden hair, plastering it to her neck. The scent of her filled his nostrils, making his scales ripple with an unfamiliar tension.

“Getting tired already?” He kept his voice sharp, challenging.

“Not even close.” Her words came out breathless but defiant.

On her third attempt, her knees finally gave out. The stone slipped from her grasp as she crashed onto the burning ground. The sound of her body hitting the stone sent an unexpected surge of protective rage through his chest.

“Get up,” he growled, fighting the urge to help her. Warriors earned their strength through pain. Even if every instinct screamed at him to catch her before she fell again.

“I can do this,” she growled through gritted teeth, her voice raw with exhaustion.

Something fierce and protective surged through Andear’s chest as he watched her struggle. Her determination blazed brighter than the twin suns overhead. Against every instinct of his position, of his traditions, he found himself believing her.

She pushed herself up, her muscles quivering. The stone scraped against the ground as she lifted it once more. Three more steps. Two. One.

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.