Page 23 of Claimed By the Drakarn Warrior Lord

I stretched across the smooth, heat-warmed stone of my sleeping platform, my wings draping over its edges like smoldering shadows. Its surface, carved from volcanic rock, radiated the comforting warmth of my people’s fire-born home. Around me, my chambers glowed faintly with light from the heat crystals, their molten orange veins crawling through the blackened stone like living things. Shadows flickered across the ceiling, the dance of firelight a reflection of the restless energy pulsing through me.

She stirred beside me, her copper hair spilling across my obsidian scales in a cascade of molten light. Her hand rested against my ribcage, delicate fingers curling as if she sought to anchor herself to me even in sleep. Her warmth sank into me, more potent than the heat that surrounded us.

I should have let her rest. Should have allowedher this brief reprieve from the chaos of this world that was not her own. But responsibilities loomed beyond these walls—duties that would not wait, threats that would not yield. My people. My enemies. The council. All of them circled like carrion birds, waiting for any sign of weakness, any crack in my armor. And Terra … Terra was no ordinary crack. She was a blaze, wild and beautiful, and I knew it would take all my strength to shield her from what was to come.

A faint shift in the chamber’s light caught my attention. The massive doors at the far end, carved with the sigils of my house, groaned open with deliberate slowness. A figure stepped inside, silhouetted against the low glow of the hall beyond. Tall, crimson-scaled, and exuding the confidence of a predator who knew his place in the hierarchy.

Rath.

He entered without hesitation, his wings tucked neatly against his back and his molten ruby-red scales shimmering faintly in the light. His sharp amber eyes swept the room, lingering briefly on the sleeping form of Terra before meeting mine. His mouth curved into a smirk—the kind that had earned him more than one scar in his years as my subordinate.

“Darrokar,” he greeted, his voice low and rough. “I see you’ve been … busy.”

I rose slowly, careful not to disturb Terra. Her hand slipped from my chest as I shifted, and though her warmth lingered, the absence left a quiet ache in its wake. She murmured something soft, a garbled word that I couldn’t quite catch, before settling once more into stillness.

“Speak,” I ordered Rath, my voice low and clipped. My wings flared slightly as I stepped away from the platform, the movement stirring the heavy air of the chamber. “And make it quick.”

Rath’s smirk widened as he came closer, his taloned feet clicking softly against the stone floor. “The exile is done,” he said simply, his tone casual. “Thekervashwon’t find shelter in the wastes. And if he does, it won’t last long.”

A growl rumbled deep in my chest at the memory of that bastard’s audacity. His hands on Terra, his challenge to my claim—it had taken more restraint than I cared to admit not to end him myself. My claws flexed, scraping against the stone. “Good,” I said darkly. “If he values his life, he’ll stay gone.”

Rath nodded, though the gleam in his eyes told me he hoped to meet thekervashagain. “Andif he doesn’t, I’ll gladly remind him why that was a mistake.”

The words might have been a joke, but his gaze drifted again to Terra, and though there was no malice in his curiosity, it still set my instincts on edge. I stepped closer, my wings flaring wider in a reflexive show of dominance.

“She’s … different,” Rath said at last, tilting his head as he regarded her. His tone was cautious, but not entirely free of judgment. “Not what I expected.”

“You expected nothing,” I snapped, my voice sharp as the edge of a blade. “You know nothing of her.”

Rath raised his hands in mock surrender, the smirk fading from his face. “The council will want to know more,” he said carefully. “You know they’ll question this. Question her.”

“Let them,” I growled, stepping closer. The heat of my anger flared in the air between us. “I have no interest in their doubts or their traditions. Terra is mine, and no council, no law, will take her from me.”

Rath studied me for a long moment, his amber eyes narrowing slightly. “Traditions run deep, Darrokar,” he said quietly. “You’ve always walkedthe line between honoring and defying them. Just be certain which side you stand on.”

I didn’t respond. I held Rath's gaze, the weight of his words settling uneasily in my chest. Loyalty was etched into his bones, but his caution was not without merit. The council would not let this go unchallenged. They would see Terra as a disruption, an unknown, perhaps even a threat. And to them, threats were meant to be eliminated.

But the fire that burned within me—the bond that tethered us—was unshakable. Terra was no threat. She was strength. Resilience. Defiance. And she was mine.

Rath must have sensed the resolve in my silence, for he shifted, his wings folding more tightly against his back. “For what it’s worth,” he said, tilting his head, “I’ve never seen you like this. It’s … unsettling.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Unsettling?”

He nodded, his smirk returning, though it lacked its earlier edge. “You’re quieter. Less … predictable. Whatever she’s done, it’s making the rest of us nervous.”

“Good,” I said, my voice low and deliberate. “You should be nervous.”

Rath gave a short laugh, more breath than sound, and inclined his head. “As you say, WarriorLord. But nervous warriors make rash decisions. Keep an eye on your council—they’ll be watching.”

Without another word, he turned and strode toward the door, the click of his talons echoing off the chamber walls. His wings brushed lightly against the frame, and the heavy door groaned shut behind him, leaving me alone with my mate once more.

I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, my thoughts uneasy. Rath’s words were an unwelcome specter in the back of my mind. He was right—nervous warriors did make rash choices. And the council was nothing if not a collection of nervous old fools.

But I would deal with them if and when they became a problem. For now, my priority was here—beside me, stretched across the sleeping platform like she belonged in this world carved from fire and stone.

“Who was that?” Terra’s voice startled me, soft but steady, tinged with curiosity.

She was propped up on one elbow. The red waves of her hair framed her face, and her green eyes glinted with humor. She was watching me closely, her gaze as sharp as ever. She was my mate; I should have expected nothing less.

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