Page 21

Dernin

Dernin circled the ring after his victory in the semifinal match. He acknowledged the crowd’s roars with a warrior’s composure. His tail swept gracefully behind him as he moved, and his muscles rippled under his golden scales.

Fyret soon strutted into the ring toward the center of it, his gaudy clothes catching the lights overhead. “Ladies and gentlemen, your finalists!”

Bariv walked out to join them, his filaments quivering with each thunderous step. The crowd’s cheers intensified.

“Tomorrow night, these two champions will battle for the ultimate prize!” Fyret gestured up toward the viewing box where Alaysia sat.

Dernin gritted his teeth as he caught the smug look Bariv and Fyret exchanged. The memory of their secret conversation made his blood burn hot in his veins. But beneath his stoic exterior, a new power thrummed through him, the growing connection to his mate strengthening his resolve.

“Who will claim victory?” Fyret worked the crowd. “Our reigning champion?” He gestured to Bariv, who raised his arms triumphantly. “Or our rising star?”

Dernin stood tall, his eyes finding Alaysia. The sight of her fueled the warrior’s spirit that coursed through his blood. Let them think they had this fixed. They didn’t understand the power of a mating bond, how it enhanced his natural abilities with each passing hour.

“Tomorrow night, we will find out!” Fyret declared.

“Looking forward to it,” Bariv growled, stepping into Dernin’s space. “Hope you’re ready to lose, snake.”

Dernin met his gaze coolly. “We’ll see who’s standing at the end.”

The threat in Bariv’s answering smile confirmed everything Dernin had overheard. But Dernin felt the surge of strength flowing through him, drawn from Alaysia. His mate filled him with purpose beyond mere victory.

They had no idea what they were truly up against.

The celebration hall buzzed with activity, filled with the wealthy elite of Jorvla’s underground betting on tomorrow’s championship match. Dernin’s tail twitched with irritation as another group of gamblers approached him, their eyes roving over his form like he was livestock at auction.

“Look at those big muscles.” One bettor whistled. “The scales alone must give him incredible defense.”

“But Bariv’s got more experience,” another argued. “Plus, he’s never lost a championship.”

Dernin’s jaw clenched as he stood stoically, forced to endure their assessment. A server passed by with a tray of exotic delicacies that probably cost more than he earned in a year.

“Care to give us a demonstration of your strength?” A drunk patron swayed closer. “Just a little show?”

“No,” Dernin growled, his golden eyes flashing.

The drunk patron backed away, but others continued to circle and stare. His muscles coiled with tension beneath his scales. He hated being displayed like this, being treated as property rather than the warrior he was.

Then his thoughts turned to Alaysia. This was her life—constantly on display, objectified, seen as nothing more than a prize. His mate had endured this treatment her entire existence yet still maintained her fierce spirit. If she could endure it, so could he. For her.

“That’s some fire in those eyes,” a bettor observed. “Might put my money on this one after all.”

Dernin straightened to his full height, letting his warrior’s presence fill the space. But his breath caught in his chest as Alaysia entered the celebration hall.

Her black satin dress clung to every curve of her body, the neckline dipping low to reveal her creamy skin. Her red hair cascaded in waves down her back.

Her blue eyes sought his across the crowded room, and his blood surged hot through his veins. The mating bond roared between them, making his scales ripple with barely contained need. His tail lashed behind him as he watched other males’ gazes follow her movements. A low growl built in his chest.

She walked past him, close enough that her scent of roses filled his senses. Their eyes locked for a heated moment.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said.

A blush crept across her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze drinking him in.

The wealthy patrons continued to circle them both, but Dernin focused only on her. The way the dress hugged her hips as she walked. How her throat moved when she swallowed. The slight tremble in her hands that told him she felt this too—this primal pull between them tonight.

As the night wore on, Dernin’s tail wound up with tension as he watched another drunk patron stumble too close to Alaysia.

His mate handled herself with grace, but the protective instinct within him surged.

The celebration hall had grown rowdier by the hour, the air thick with smoke and the sharp scent of expensive liquor.

He tracked Alaysia’s movements through the raucous crowd, noting how she navigated the space with careful precision. Her black dress caught the light as she moved, drawing more unwanted attention. His scales rippled with agitation each time someone’s gaze lingered too long.

He couldn’t fight back his protective urges anymore. He needed to whisk her away from this charade.

“Getting crowded in here,” Marcella appeared at his side, her voice low. She carried a tray of empty glasses, playing her role perfectly.

“I need your help.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, collecting another empty glass from a nearby table.

“Create a distraction. Something to draw attention away from the main hall.” His eyes never left Alaysia. “I need to get her somewhere private.”

“To talk strategy for tomorrow?” Marcella’s knowing smile made his tail twitch.

“Among other things.” He crossed his arms over his chest, muscles flexing. “Can you do it?”

“Please.” Marcella balanced her tray expertly. “I’ve been causing diversions in this place since before you got here.”

“So, you’ll do it?”

“Give me fifteen minutes. When you hear the commotion, head for the east corridor.”

He watched Marcella disappear into the crowd and then made his way closer to where Alaysia stood. His height allowed him to tower over the other patrons, clearing a path through the drunken masses. The mating bond pulled at him, growing stronger with each step closer to her.

Every instinct screamed at him to simply grab her right this moment and carry her away from all these leering eyes. But he’d learned patience in his warrior training. Fifteen minutes. He could wait fifteen minutes to get his mate alone.

A crash echoed through the celebration hall, followed by shouts and the sound of breaking glass. Dernin’s keen hearing picked up Marcella’s voice rising above the chaos, directing servants to clean up what sounded like an entire cart of expensive liquor.

He seized his chance, moving swiftly through the crowd to Alaysia’s side.

His tail swept a protective arc behind them as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Come with me.”

Alaysia’s breath hitched, but she gave a slight nod. Dernin guided her with a light touch at the small of her back, steering them away from the commotion and through a set of ornate double doors.

The hallway beyond dripped with wealth—gold-threaded tapestries lined walls covered in deep red silk. Their footsteps were muffled by thick carpeting that probably cost more than most homes back on Nirum. Crystal sconces cast intimate pools of light every few feet.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Alaysia whispered, though she didn’t pull away from his touch.

“I’ll protect you.” His voice rumbled low in his chest as they passed beneath a glittering chandelier. The scent of her—roses and feminine warmth—filled his senses, making his scales rise with need.

They turned down another corridor, this one lined with carved wooden doors. Dernin’s warrior instincts mapped each turn, each potential escape route. But the mating bond thrummed stronger with every step closer to her, threatening to overwhelm his tactical mind.

“Wait.” Alaysia pressed closer as voices echoed from around the corner. Dernin’s tail curled protectively around her waist, drawing her against his chest as they waited in the shadows.

Two drunk patrons stumbled past, oblivious to their presence. Dernin held perfectly still, hyperaware of Alaysia’s curves pressed against him, her pulse racing beneath her skin.

“We need to go somewhere more private,” he said once the coast was clear. His hands tightened possessively on her hips.

“There’s a parlor just ahead,” she breathed, tilting her face up to his. “I saw it earlier when they were showing me around.”

Dernin tasted the air, checking for any other approaching threats as they continued down the hall. His warrior’s discipline warred with the primal need to claim his mate, to keep her safe, to…

Footsteps approached from another direction. They needed to find that parlor. Now.