Page 3 of The Naga Princess’s Soldier Mate (Serpents of Serant #7)

Reid

“Ah, come on, Erish!” I said. “Just a small trip outside. These walls are driving me crazy.” I’d been awake for three days, and I was starting to think I’d dreamed my angel while struck down by the fever that had gripped me. I swore she was real, but despite asking Erish, the Shaman healer, who she was, I had learned nothing. This was my next attempt to find her. Sure, I was going a little crazy stuck inside a med bay, but it was killing me not to know if she was real or not.

“You are not strong enough yet,” the Shaman elder said, but he was laughing, his blind white eyes somehow managing to twinkle. For a male who supposedly couldn’t see a thing, he got around very easily. When I quietly raised a hand so I could lever myself out of the nest, his tail was there. “No, you don’t, boy. You are staying put until I say otherwise.” When he got stern like that, I felt both inexplicably scolded and cared for at the same time. It was a very odd combination.

I curled my lip and crossed my arms, sulking over being thwarted, but the truth was that he was right. My body was a mess, and everything hurt; even my fucking hair ached. The memories of how this had happened were still tangled up inside my brain with memories from the past. I didn’t like how unbalanced that made me feel—when I couldn’t even trust my own mind. It made me feel even more insecure about the existence of my angel, but there was no way I’d imagined those pretty blue eyes.

Erish sighed as he smoothed the furs back over my leg with gentle hands, his expression kind and a little melancholic as he settled himself on the edge of the medical cot—or “nest,” as he called it. “I know you want to find her,” he said, “but what if she does not want to be found?”

My heart soared in my chest at those words, and the pain that burned in my nerves every minute of the day was briefly pushed to the back of my mind. So she was real. This was as close to an admission from Erish as I was likely to get, but it was enough. In my mind, I pulled up the image of her. It was engraved in my brain; I’d never forget it: her long, dark blue hair lying in soft waves around her face and shoulders, the paler blue of the fine scales that covered her delicate features, and the intelligent gleam in her beautiful azure eyes. I never knew I was that partial to blue, but I really, really was.

“Tell her that I’d never harm her, Erish,” I said, exhaustion pulling at me as the elation ran its course. “Not my angel. I’d protect her till the day I die, and beyond.” I laughed hoarsely. “I’ve done death a couple of times now, so I really mean that.” Three times, by my count, I had died and somehow escaped its greedy jaws: first on Scrak-4, ending my normal military career for the UAR; then on Exrata, which ended my career as a soldier in the Shadow Unit; and then here, on Serant, as UAR-designed nanobots waged war with nanobots designed by the ancient Naga of the past.

Either I was a cat, or death really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. I was starting to grow an admirable set of whiskers at this point, but I wasn’t ready to go with cat, just yet.

“That’s not something one says to a Naga female,” Erish murmured thoughtfully. “You would be better off staying away from this one. She has a particularly fierce and cruel reputation.” The words made me laugh, which made me cough, and I tasted copper in my mouth. Her? Fierce and cruel? There was no way. My angel was the kindest, gentlest of them all. She was nothing like the Naga females described by my friends back at Haven. Maybe Erish didn’t realize he’d slipped up even more, but I sure had. He was talking about her now. Pretty soon, I’d pry her name from his lips.

“I mean it,” I told him, tapping my chest in vain to ease the cough still tickling the back of my throat. Raised bumps sat beneath my skin in odd, geometric patterns there, and I still hadn’t gotten used to it. They hadn’t been there when I’d passed out in the caverns beneath Haven. They weren’t part of what made me a Shadow Unit soldier, but they were there now, a permanent reminder of the damage these conflicting nanobots were causing inside my body. “Tell her she’s safe with me. I will protect her.”

Erish did not comment on how unlikely that offer was. I was in absolutely no shape to keep anyone safe, let alone a beautiful, powerful Naga female like the one I remembered. That’s what she was: a Naga, with scales and fangs, a delicate horn jutting from her chin, and a long, sinuous tail. She was still an angel in my mind, and I doubted anything could shake that faith.

“Very well,” Erish said with a nod. “If you promise to take the sleeping medications to rest, I will pass along your message.” His smile was wry, his sightless eyes locked on a point above my head rather than my face. He wasn’t supposed to see it when I nodded, but testing him was exactly what I did. “Good,” he agreed, and his hands flew to the control unit beside my bed. Before I could process the new information I’d learned about my healer and about my angel, drugs flooded my body through my IV. It was lights out in seconds.

My vision narrowed, darkness creeping in from around the edges. Just before it closed all the way, I swore I saw her: blue scales, a lock of silky blue hair, and a sharp, intelligent gaze as her azure eyes met mine. I dreamed not of memories this time but of my beautiful angel—and all the very non-angelic things I wanted to do to her.

***

Sazzie

“You can’t keep them waiting forever,” Elder Chen said, his arms crossed over his dark blue scales, and the even darker blue robes framing his lean body. He followed me into the medical skyship, his scales making a soft, whispering sound against the metal flooring, where mine made none. As the head of the triumvirate that ran the training grounds, he was probably the most important male on the planet. Turning my back on him was rude, and it was exactly the kind of thing my mother would have done—a power play to let him know he was not the only important person around, and as a male, he was far inferior to a Queen.

But I was not a queen, and the last thing I wanted was to be like my mother, which was precisely why I was ignoring the Thunder Rock escort that waited on the outskirts of the Training Grounds—far enough away not to be sacrilegious, but close enough to be there the moment their Queen decided to leave. I’d killed their Queen, so they were waiting in vain. There was no reason for them to linger, and I was certain that a Shaman had gone out to meet them and tell them the news of the Thunder Rock Queen’s death.

“Watch me,” I snarled in frustration. I was not going back to Thunder Rock; there was nothing waiting for me there but more violence, more death, more pain. Zathar’s advice from long ago had been right; it had been the only way to survive. If not for his push, I would have died at the hands of Astrexa or one of my other female peers before long. I was done with that kind of life, and even if it meant living in exile with the Shamans, it would be better than continuing to live a sham. I couldn’t recall when I’d been happy—certainly not since my father died when I was eight summers old, maybe not even since Zathar left with the injured Ayala. I had never dared to ask my brother if the poor creature had survived.

My mind flashed with a pair of warm brown eyes—eyes that belonged to a human face. Rugged, despite not having any scales to cover his features and protect his fragile skin. Powerful, even though he had no tail and appeared to be lying dying inside a medical nest aboard the medical skyship. Reid. I wanted to see him, but I didn’t want him to see me. It was stupid, but I was filled with fear over meeting him. What if he saw me again, and he didn’t look so full of admiration? And was it vain to want that? It wasn’t something a Naga female ever concerned herself with. I was convinced that if he saw me again, he’d see the Sazzie everyone else saw: the violent female who conquered all those who challenged her, the Queen’s favorite heir after Astrexa’s fall from grace.

“Khawla has already sent back messengers to Thunder Rock. You can’t put this off, Sazzie. Before long, challengers will start to show up here. We can’t have that.” Elder Chen sounded stern as he said this, and I felt a deep sense of shame wash over me. I was putting off the inevitable by not facing Khawla and his warriors—hiding like a coward again, seeking a shield to protect me from what fate seemed to have in store for me, despite how hard I tried to deny it. Zathar had taught me that no one in this world could shield me except me, and dread over what the future held clawed deep into my flesh.

“But not yet,” I said to Chen, and it was the lack of bite, of fire, that made him snap his mouth shut and nod. I liked the elder very much, even when he pushed me to act like the Naga I was. His eyes were kind now, very gentle, and the laugh wrinkles at the corners made it obvious he was rather merry than fierce. It was with kindness that he looked at me now, understanding dancing in his eyes, that made me feel hollow inside. He saw my weakness. And, being of Thunder Rock originally himself, he knew well the challenges a female there faced.

“All right, Sazzie. Not yet,” he agreed. “Are you going in today?” He gestured at the doorway to the primary healing room. I hissed, upset when I realized just how much the Elder Shaman had seen, but my hiss only made his smile grow wider. He was not a male easily intimidated, as my mother had discovered to her great frustration the previous week. My stomach flipped as I recalled the events that had taken place—the shift of my world as I ended the one female who had controlled my life, and that of many others. No, I was not going in. There would be no kindness or admiration from the human male once he learned what I’d done.

The temptation to steal a glance was too much, though, and I ducked my head around the corner. Our eyes locked, drawn by an impossible force. His eyelids dropped slowly, fluttering as though he was fighting to keep them open, and then he was out, asleep—his warrior body tense, like he was in a battle even when he was supposed to be resting. His fists curled into the furs, his head tossed back to expose the corded column of his throat. He looked like he was in pain, and, throwing all caution to the wind, I hurried into the room.

My hands found his balled fist, and it was instinctive to stroke my fingers over his heated skin, smoothing out the tension. It seemed to help when I uncurled his fingers and ran my palms up his arm to his even tenser shoulder. With several deep, shuddering breaths, his body eased. Rolling to his side, with his face aimed my way though his eyes remained closed, he finally appeared to be resting peacefully.

“Remarkable,” Elder Erish murmured, his hands lying on the blinking panel on the other side of the nest. His white gaze was aimed at the wall, but I could see from the tilt of his head that he was listening to every move I made. “That seems to help him, Sazzie. He hasn’t rested this peacefully before. I think I might finally be able to try the next part of his treatment. Could you stay?”

Stay? I didn’t want to leave. It felt good to help, and it was very obvious that what I’d just done had helped. There were days when it felt like all I did was destroy things; this was a novel change, and it felt good. “He will remain asleep?” I asked, and when Erish confirmed this, I settled down on the edge of the cot. “Then I’ll stay.”

“Good,” Erish nodded. “I must boost his native nanobots—juice them so they start to replicate and overtake the invaders.” None of that made sense: replicate? Invaders? And what in the blazing suns was a nanobot? They had used that word a lot around Reid, but I still had no explanation for what it was or why it was harming him. I didn’t ask, though—partially because it was ingrained not to, but also because I feared I wouldn’t understand anyway.

“He wanted me to pass on a message, by the way,” Erish said with a thoughtful hum in the back of his throat. He shifted his head and looked at the doorway, though his white eyes wouldn’t be able to see that Elder Chen was still there, observing us. My scales shivered along my spine, nerves fluttering in my belly. Erish expected me to ask what, but I could not bring myself to speak.

“He said he’d protect you. That you’d be safe with him,” the Shaman eventually said, unable to keep the words to himself. I saw the smile that flitted at the corner of his mouth and felt a surge of instinctive, protective anger. Protect me? He thought that was funny, did he? A Naga female who needed a protector? But I swallowed those feelings as quickly as they rose, because neither Shaman would mock me—it wasn’t in them. That was a female thing to do, and I needed to unlearn those instincts if I wanted to be allowed to stay here.

“Thank you for letting me know,” I said as politely as I could, my throat dry. It wasn’t until he nodded and returned his focus to whatever he was doing on the strange, ancient machine that the words sank in. Protect me, keep me safe? That’s what Reid had said to Erish? It was such a strange, unheard-of offer that I struggled to wrap my head around it. Had I seen Corin and Zathar’s protectiveness of their human mates? Yes. Had I envied that? Also yes. But I was Naga and though it was my greatest wish, I was deviant for desiring that kind of thing. How had Reid known to say that? To have an answer to the biggest desire that weighed on my heart?

As soon as he started to stir, I had to leave. I couldn’t stay around a male who tempted me this much. I couldn’t put him in danger, and I couldn’t let him discover that I wasn’t who he thought I was.

Of course, nothing ever went as planned. It seemed that this human in particular liked to throw us for a loop, doing the unexpected—the impossible. Erish had only just finished the next stage of his treatment and left when he blinked open his eyes. He caught me in that gaze, and I felt unable to move, trapped. “Ah, angel. You’re here,” he said, his voice low and husky, but every word perfectly clear. My hand was still around his wrist; that was why. I knew what it meant, but…it was impossible.