Page 9 of Naga Warlord’s Mate (Nagas of Nirum #3)
Andear
Andear waited impatiently for Priscilla in the indoor training center, his black scales gleaming in the early morning light that filtered through the high windows. The space felt emptier with just him in it, his tail sweeping across the floor as he moved restlessly between the weapon racks.
“Where is she?” The words escaped in a low growl. His muscles tensed as another wave of need coursed through him. The mate bond pulled at his core, an insistent ache that grew stronger with each passing moment away from her.
He grabbed a training staff, testing its weight. “This is about correcting her form. Nothing more.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue.
A warrior shouldn’t feel this way. He’d commanded armies, led charges into battle, faced down enemies without flinching. Yet here he was, watching the door like some lovesick fool.
The first sun hadn’t even fully risen. Shadows still clung to the corners of the training center, and the morning air held a crisp bite. He’d chosen this time deliberately. No other warriors would arrive for hours. No distractions. No witnesses.
“Foolish,” he muttered, moving through a series of defensive positions. His tail carved elegant arcs across the floor as he worked to focus his mind on anything but her. The way she moved. The defiant tilt of her chin. The fire in those green eyes when she refused to back down.
The mate bond pulsed again, more insistent this time. His grip tightened on the staff until the wood creaked in protest. This wasn’t like him—this loss of control, this... yearning. He was a warlord, not some untested youth ruled by his instincts.
“She’s a human,” he reminded himself harshly. “Fragile. Temporary.” But even as he said the words, he knew they were lies. Nothing was fragile about Priscilla’s spirit. Nothing temporary about the way she’d carved herself into his thoughts.
The sound of approaching footsteps made his whole body go still, every scale tingling with anticipation.
Priscilla slipped into the training center, her golden hair catching the early morning light. The moment she entered, Andear’s scales rippled with awareness. Her scent—a mix of sun-warmed honey and something uniquely her—hit him like a punch to the gut. His tail twitched against the floor as dizziness swept through him.
Since that moment he’d caught her during training, everything about her seemed magnified. The graceful way she moved, the slight sheen of sweat on her skin as she began her warm-up routine, the soft sounds of her breathing—it all threatened to overwhelm his senses.
Andear gripped his training staff harder, forcing himself to maintain distance as she stretched. The mate bond demanded he close the gap between them. He fought it, watching as she attempted a defensive stance.
“Your form needs work.” The words came out rougher than intended.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, her green eyes sparkling. “Then teach me.”
Those three words broke his resolve. In one fluid movement, he was behind her, his broad chest nearly touching her back. His hands found her arms, and electricity shot through him at the contact. Her skin was impossibly soft under his palms.
“Like this.” He adjusted her position, fighting back a groan as she pressed back against him. His primary member throbbed under his training clothes, and he shifted his tail to hide his reaction. “Arms up. Shoulders back.”
Her scent surrounded him, making it hard to think. The mate bond sang between them, urging him closer. His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “Your stance is wrong.”
She turned her head slightly, and he caught a glimpse of those green eyes that filled his dreams. His hands tightened on her arms, unable to let go despite knowing he should. The heat of her body seeped into his scales, making them tingle uncontrollably.
“Is this better?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Andear swallowed hard, fighting the urge to pull her fully against him. His scales burned where they touched her skin. The mate bond thrummed between them, a living current that made his primary member pulse with desperate need. Her back pressed against his chest, soft and warm, sending sparks of electricity through his entire body. His tail coiled restlessly behind him as he struggled to maintain his composure.
“Keep your arms up,” he growled, his voice rough with barely contained desire. His hands slid along her arms, adjusting her stance. The simple touch sent another wave of heat coursing through him.
Her scent filled his lungs, and his primary member throbbed harder. He shifted his weight, trying to create space between them without actually stepping back.
“Just like this?” She pressed back further against him, and his vision blurred at the edges.
The training center suddenly felt too small and too hot. His scales rippled with excitement as she turned within the circle of his arms, her eyes meeting his. Her lips parted slightly, and the sight of her pink tongue darting out to wet them nearly broke his control.
The mate bond screamed at him to claim her, to press her against the nearest wall and—
No.
“You are dismissed.” The words came out fast and harsh. He stepped back, breaking his contact from her, his tail lashing behind him in agitation.
She blinked, confusion and hurt flashing across her face. “But we just started—”
“I said you are dismissed.” He turned away quickly, unable to look at her, knowing if he did, his control would snap completely. His primary member ached, and his scales felt too tight and too hot.
The sound of her retreating footsteps echoed in his ears, each one both a relief and a torture. Only when the door closed behind her did he let out a deep breath, his massive frame shaking with the effort of restraint.
The mate bond urged him to follow her, to explain, to claim what was his. But he couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
His tail slammed against the floor in frustration as her scent lingered in the air, tormenting him with what he couldn’t have.
He moved to the window. Through the glass, he watched her small form moving slowly down the street, her shoulders slumped. His chest tightened at the sight of her defeated posture. She’d come to him early this morning, per his request, ready to learn, and he’d thrown her out like a common annoyance.
“Damn it all.” His fist connected with the stone wall, his scales scraping against the rough rock. Pain shot through his knuckles, but it did nothing to dull the ache of the mate bond.
The memory of her body pressed against his chest and the softness of her skin under his hands tortured him. His scales rippled with need, and his tail lashed hard against the floor.
“This cannot happen right now.” The words came out in a growl as he pressed his forehead against the cool glass. But even as he said it, his body betrayed him. His primary member twitched, desperate for her touch. Every instinct screamed at him to chase after her, to wrap her in his arms and never let go.
His claws dug into the windowsill as he watched her disappear around a corner. The sight of her walking away from him felt wrong on a primal level, and he growled in frustration.
“Focus,” he commanded himself, but his body refused to obey. All he could think about was the way she’d felt, the soft gasp she’d made when he’d touched her, the fire in those green eyes when she looked at him.
“Stop it!”
He suddenly snatched a training staff from the rack. The mate bond burned through his veins like molten metal. He spun toward the training dummy, striking it with enough force to splinter the wooden staff.
“Weak,” he snarled at himself, grabbing another staff. His tail lashed behind him as he launched into a series of brutal attacks. The dummy’s stuffed form shuddered under each blow, straw spilling from fresh tears.
Her scent still lingered in the air. Sweet. Intoxicating. Wrong.
He roared, channeling his frustration into a devastating strike that nearly decapitated the dummy. His scales burned where they’d touched her skin, the phantom sensation driving him mad. The staff cracked against the dummy’s chest, sending more straw floating to the floor.
“I am a warlord.” Each word was punctuated by another blow.
Blood welled where splinters had pierced his palms, but the pain barely registered. He welcomed it, hoped it would drown out the insistent pull of the mate bond. His primary member pulsed traitorously, refusing to let him forget how she’d felt pressed against him.
The second staff shattered. Andear hurled the broken pieces aside, his chest heaving. Sweat dripped down his scales, but the exercise had done nothing to cool the fire in his blood.
“She’s human.” His voice echoed off the stone walls as he grabbed a third staff. “Temporary. Nothing.”
But even as he spoke the lies, her defiant green eyes haunted him. The way she’d pressed back against his body, trusting and warm. His tail slammed against the floor as another wave of need crashed through him.
The dummy’s head snapped back under his assault. More straw rained down, mixing with drops of his blood on the stone floor. Still not enough. The pain couldn’t match the agony of denying the mate bond.
His scales felt too hot. Every breath brought her scent deeper into his lungs. The staff became a blur as he struck again and again, trying to beat the wanting out of himself.
“I will not claim her,” he growled, but his body screamed otherwise. The mate bond pulsed stronger with each denial until his vision blurred at the edges. “I will not...”