Page 17 of Claimed By the Drakarn Warrior Lord

The injured male coughed, blood specklinghis lips, and attempted to spit out a few words. Whatever pathetic excuse or plea he hoped to offer never left his mouth. Rath seized him by the arm, wrenching him upright with a strength that belied his calm demeanor.

“Your orders?” Rath asked me, his tone neutral, but his eyes glinted with the expectation of blood.

“Banishment,” I said, the words clipped, deliberate. I would have flayed the skin from his bones for what he tried, but Rath was right. We had rules here. Laws. And I had my duty. "If he sets foot here again, his life is forfeit."

Rath nodded once. He knew as well as I did that this couldn’t be about my personal vengeance or the insult to Terra—this had to be about Scalvaris, the council, the laws that bound us.

Still, the beast inside me seethed, unhappy to let the matter go so easily.

Rath dragged the warrior down the corridor, his claws digging into his captive’s shoulder with enough force to make him limp. The sounds of their retreat faded, leaving only the faint vibration of my breathing and the subtle crackle of heat crystals above.

I turned back to Terra.

She stood there, her shoulders squared, her chintilted up in that infuriatingly stubborn way that made it impossible to look away. Her fire was undimmed, even after what she’d endured. Perhaps even because of it. The faint tear in her robe revealed a sliver of thigh, her skin marred by a scrape that sent a fresh wave of fury surging through me.

My claws flexed involuntarily at my sides, aching for something—someone—to shred, but there was no one left to punish.

Not here. Not now.

She stared up at me, unflinching. She was a strange, fragile-looking creature by Drakarn standards, but in that moment, she felt as indomitable as the crystal peaks of Volcaryth. My mate.

"Why?" I demanded, the single word cutting through the silence like the edge of my blade. My voice came out rough, still jagged with the remnants of my rage. I repeated one of the few words she had learned in my tongue. “Why?”

She folded her arms across her chest, her movements tight and deliberate, as if shielding herself from the weight of my anger. She didn’t answer, not in words.

Instead, she looked past me, her jaw tight, her throat working as she swallowed. Anger flared in me, unbidden and illogical. She wouldn’t even meetmy eyes. After all I’d just done—after I’d torn apart that bastard for daring to touch her—she stood there, defiant and distant.

I stepped closer, the heat from my body radiating between us. I wanted her to look at me. Needed it. For all her fire, her courage, her maddening refusal to submit, there was something about her silence that was … unbearable.

I lifted my hand to her cheek, my claws careful not to hurt her delicate skin. She was warm beneath my touch, nothing like the rage simmering in me. She flinched, just barely, but didn’t pull away. That defiance of hers again—burning, stubborn, and maddeningly intoxicating. She hadn't submitted to the bastard who had dared to touch her, and she wouldn’t submit to me, either. Not without a fight.

Good.

“Why?” I repeated, softer this time, but no less demanding. My thumb traced the line of her jaw, brushing against the faint smudge of blood that wasn’t hers. The sight of it made my wings twitch.

My mate—my woman—had been hurt in my city, under my watch. The guilt clawed at me as fiercely as the rage had moments ago.

Her eyes finally snapped to mine, sharp and unrelenting as a blade's edge. She said nothing, butthe tension in her posture spoke volumes. She was angry—at me, at this place, at the circumstances that had forced her into this position.

“Do you seek to test me, fierce one?” I asked, my voice low, a dangerous rumble that carried more than a hint of warning. “I’ve already had to restrain myself once today. Do not tempt me to lose control again.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but I saw the spark in her eyes—the spark that told me she was on the verge of spitting something back at me. She didn’t, though. Instead, she tore her gaze from mine and yanked her arm free of my touch, turning her back to me in a deliberate act of rebellion.

The air between us crackled with tension, thick and suffocating. My claws twitched at my sides, and my wings unfurled slightly, the instinct to dominate, to claim, warring with the rationality that told menot now.

“You think you’re strong enough to walk these halls alone?” I growled, stepping around her to block her path. “You think your ferocity will protect you from men like him?”

Her eyebrows scrunched together, and she opened her mouth again, hesitating over the words. "Warrior. Me. Fight."

It took me a moment to understand,and everything within me rebelled at the thought. I didn't want a weak mate. I'd always assumed my heart would one day belong to another warrior.

But Terra had no claws to slash, no scales to protect her, no wings. She was more helpless than the lowliest servant.

And had a warrior's fire in her heart.

Could I really deny her this?

"You want to fight, luvae?" I let the word slip before I could stop myself.Luvae.Not just "woman." Not just "mine." Something far more intimate. A word reserved for a bond so deep it was carved into a Drakarn's very bones.

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