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XIRATH

T he scent of her absence is a wound carved into my ribs.

Every breath I take tastes wrong.

Every corner of the stronghold feels hollow.

The moment I step into her chambers, the truth slams into me with the strength of a hammer to the gut. She is gone. The room is empty, stripped of warmth, stripped of her.

A growl rumbles through my chest, deep enough to shake the walls. The guards outside do not move fast enough.

"Where is she?" My voice cuts through the silence like the tip of a dagger.

The two naga warriors standing at her door exchange uneasy glances, their tails twitching. Cowards.

"My Lord," one of them dares, shifting uncomfortably. "We?—"

I don’t let him finish.

My fist connects with his jaw before he has the chance. Bone cracks beneath my knuckles, and he crumples like a broken thing, gasping in pain as he clutches his face.

The other steps back, fangs bared in reflex, but he doesn’t run. Smart.

"She left through the tunnels," he blurts out. "We, we didn’t notice until she was already gone?—"

Another hit. This time, I grab him by the throat, slamming him against the stone wall hard enough to make the torches flicker. His breath chokes off, his claws scrambling at my grip.

"You let her walk out of my stronghold?" I snarl, my golden eyes burning into his.

He wheezes. "She—she’s fast."

"Not faster than me."

I release him with a shove, sending him staggering forward. He gasps for air, tail curling in submission.

The rage in my blood is uncontainable.

She ran. Again.

She thinks she’ll get away.

"That’s enough, Xirath."

Talyra’s voice cuts through the madness, calm but firm.

She steps into the room, her scales glinting under the torchlight, arms crossed. Those sharp eyes assess the destruction in an instant, the bruised guards, the shattered remains of my restraint.

"Beating them to a pulp won’t bring her back."

I turn to her, chest heaving. "She’s out there alone."

Talyra sighs, exasperated. "Yes, because you’ve made this place so welcoming."

I narrow my gaze, but she doesn’t back down. She never does.

"She’s human, Xirath. She can’t survive out there for long, not with Jalith hunting her."

The mention of that filthy dark elf’s name stokes the fire inside me into an inferno.

"If he touches her, I’ll skin him alive," I snarl.

"Then stop wasting time." Talyra steps closer, voice lowering. "You can be mad at her later. Right now, you need to get to her first."

The words snap me into motion.

The moment I step outside the stronghold, I breathe her in.

Faint traces of her cling to the earth, leading east, toward the jungle’s edge, toward the lands beyond. Too far already.

I move.

The hunt is instinctual, primal, a drive as natural as breathing. My muscles coil and release, my tail cutting through the underbrush, my body moving with purpose.

She has a head start, but she doesn’t know the land like I do.

She doesn’t know that the paths she takes will betray her.

The forest ahead whispers secrets in the wind, the trees bending toward the distant mountains. I follow her path through the jungle, feet barely touching the ground, my movements swift and efficient.

But something shifts.

The signs of her trail are too fresh.

Which means…

He isn’t the only one tracking her.

A dark stain marks the ground ahead. A footprint too heavy to be hers, too broad, the edges sharper than a naga’s.

Minotaurs. Or worse.

Dark elves.

I unsheath my blade, fangs bared.

She is running straight into their hands.

Not again.

Not when I just got her back.

I will not let her go.

Mate or not.

She is mine.