Page 13 of Claimed By the Drakarn Warrior Lord

“Here,” I growled softly, reaching for something else to distract from my rising instincts. “Redclaw,” Iexplained, pulling it slowly from the tray. She mimicked the word, though her accent mangled it more than the last. I didn’t care. Each broken syllable warmed me in ways I didn’t think possible.

Piece by piece, she sampled the foods I handed her, every repetition of my language satisfyingly imperfect and wholly hers. The tension in her posture eased, her guard dropping under the weight of small kindnesses she clearly hadn’t expected.

So when I reached to wipe the juice from her lower lip, the act surprised us both.

The angle of her jaw fit perfectly in my palm as I brushed the pad of my thumb against her skin, careful not to scratch her with my claw. Soft. Too soft for a warrior and yet utterly captivating. Warmth sparked across her flesh and into mine, lighting a fire that demanded to be fed.

Her lips trembled almost imperceptibly, her body leaning forward ever so slightly, a conflict she likely couldn’t name flickering in those eyes.

She was aroused. And afraid.

I withdrew my hand before she could pull away, ripping my palm from her jaw with such force it was as if I were severing the bond itself. She blinked, the moment broken as confusion colored her features once more. The mate-bond screamed at thedistance. My discipline howled at the thought of pushing her too fast. I exhaled heavily, standing with my wings slightly mantled in frustration.

“Rest,” I said gruffly, motioning to the food cart before kicking the impulse down further into silence. My gaze lingered just a second longer before I climbed out of the tub and stalked toward the adjoining chamber.

SIX

TERRA

After five freaking days of captivity that was unlike anything I'd ever encountered, I was going crazy. Darrokar kept me in his rooms. He fed me, sometimesby hand, and looked at me with desire clear enough to cross the galactic boundary of our species.

But he didn't try to touch me.

The bar was so low if I was thankful my alien captor wasn't a rapist.

I needed to get out of his rooms and dosomething. And, finally, the opportunity presented itself when Darrokar was called away by one of his men in a flurry of wings and weapons. It didn't look like he'd be back soon.

I’d been in plenty of hostile environments in my time. Cities brought to ruin by coordinated strikes.Desert strongholds besieged by the enemy. Forests turned death traps by insurgents who knew the terrain better than they knew their own names.

But Scalvaris? This place was something else entirely.

It wasn’t just the eerie beauty of it that unsettled me—or the fact that it was alien in every conceivable way. It was the pulse of the place, the way the underground river moved with purpose, the jagged obsidian towers looming like silent sentries, the faint vibration underfoot that hummed with a life of its own. The city wasn’t just alive; it was watching.

So was he.

Even with Darrokar gone, I felt him everywhere. In the heavy air, the flicker of heat crystals set into the walls, the faint scent of something smoky and dark that clung to my skin after we’d shared that damned bath days ago. Distraction was a luxury I couldn’t afford, and yet, there he was, burrowed under my skin.

I shook the thought loose, tightening the sash of the thin, draping garment Darrokar had left for me in the wardrobe. It felt too delicate on my skin, like I ought to be lounging in a palace and being hand fed grapes rather than skulking through this fortress of stone. The fabric shifted with every movement,whispering against my legs in infuriating contrast to the thick combat gear I was used to. But there wasn’t time to curse my outfit.

I had a team to find.

Slipping out of Darrokar’s private quarters had been easier than expected, though the tendrils of unease in the back of my mind warned me not to trust that. Doorways gave way to dark passageways, and I clung to those shadows like a thief, moving soundlessly as I’d been trained to do.

This wasn’t just about survival. This was about Hawk, Kira, and the rest of the women who had trusted me with their lives. I hadn’t heard from them since Darrokar dragged me into his world. Were they even alive?

I swallowed that thought before it could take root.

My boots—dry now, thankfully, after my stunt in the bath—muffled against the stone floor as I moved. Scalvaris unfolded around me, a labyrinth of volcanic beauty and alien architecture, no corner of it offering even the faintest illusion of safety.

The corridors opened onto a busy thoroughfare. Drakarn guards with pierced wings and painted claws stalked the perimeters while warriors sparred in open courtyards. Merchantsbartered and bickered under glowing banners of some strange kind of fabric that shimmered like the skin of an oil slick. The air was thick—hot and metallic, tinged with the scent of scorched earth and something faintly sweet that might’ve been food.

I slipped into the crowd, keeping my head low and shoulders square, projecting an air of purpose. If you looked like you belonged somewhere, you could avoid most questions. It was a trick that worked for just about any Earth city. Alien strongholds, though? I had to hope it was a universal concept.

The Drakarn were taller than me—and broader—and their movements carried an innate predatory grace. I avoided their gazes as best I could, though I sensed the curiosity trailing me like a weighted cloak. No matter how I acted, I didn't look like I belonged.

Human female.

Alien.

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