Page 11 of Claimed By the Drakarn Warrior Lord

I turned sharply on my heel and stalked toward the tub, determined to do this my way if I was doing it at all. Rebellion was futile in the grander sense, but there was power to be found in the smaller victories.

Without pausing, I stepped directly into the steaming water, my boots sinking into its depths with a faint splash that echoed in the silent room. The fabric of my pants clung to my skin, the sensation cloying and uncomfortable as I lowered myself fully into the bath, clothes and all.

When I leaned back against the edge, crossing my arms defensively over my chest, I finally let myself look his way. His expression was … unexpected.

No anger. No disappointment.

Amusement flickered faintly at the edges of his golden gaze, and the sight of it made me press my teeth together in frustration.

Then he tilted his head back and laughed.

FIVE

DARROKAR

The sight of her, drenched and defiant in my bath, sent a blade of desire straight through me.

She didn’t cower. She didn’t plead. Instead, she faced me with those striking green eyes, her chin tilted in a warrior's challenge, shoulders squared as if daring me to push her further.

Water streamed from her soaked clothes, rippling around her, but she gave no sign of discomfort. She was magnificent—a contradiction of softness and steel, fragility and stubborn defiance.

I couldn't stop the grin before I let a low, rumbling laugh escape, filling the chamber with its echo. It wasn’t a sound I often made, and it caught even me off guard. Her head tilted slightly at the sound, her eyes narrowing, but not before I caught aflicker of something—confusion? Surprise? Perhaps something deeper that she hadn’t meant to show.

Desire warred with my warrior-strong self-control. Everything about her—her scent, her defiance, her very presence—tested my patience in ways nothing had before.

It wasn’t just the mate-bond roaring beneath my skin, demanding I claim what was mine. She wove herself into my senses, made me hyper-aware of every breath, every subtle change in her expression.

This was a battle, but not one I could fight with claws or sword.

I turned away, stalking toward the massive window that overlooked my city, my back to her now. The pull she had on me was maddening, but I needed the distance to collect myself. My wings flexed as I drew a breath that seared hotter than molten rock, willing my control back into place.

Below us, Scalvaris sprawled out in all its harsh beauty. The rushing river snaked through the city, our lifeline and what made Scalvaris habitable. Great towers of obsidian rose high, their jagged spires glistening in the glow from the water and sky shafts that let in the light. Warriors trained in the combat pits, the sound of steel cutting through the air even faintly audible here.

I pointed out the window. “Scalvaris,” I said firmly, the weight of the word sharp in the chamber. It fell heavy between us, and I stopped myself from glancing back at her, curious to see if she would recognize the significance of the gesture.

She’d shifted in the bath, her eyes now fixed on the scene beyond the window. Something shifted in her expression—curiosity, maybe even wonder—as her gaze swept over the city. I could tell she tried to suppress it, but the faint parting of her lips, the way her brow softened for just a moment, betrayed her. And then it was gone, neutral steel replacing it once more.

“Scalvaris,” I repeated, louder now, drawing her attention away from the view. Her eyes darted to me, wary again as if she thought I might try something. I lifted an arm to gesture toward the city and held her gaze. When I spoke the word a third time, her eyes narrowed slightly, as if realizing my intent. And then, slowly, she attempted to repeat it.

It wasn’t a perfect approximation. Her voice rounded the edges, softened the harsh crack of the "v" sound. But it was enough to make the mate-bond snap taut within me, the word sparking something dark and deep. It didn’t matter how far she’d come, how different herpeople might be.

There she was, speakingmylanguage, standing inmycity. Nowhere in all the stars could fate weave something more potent.

I nodded slightly, encouraging her.

“Scalvaris,” she said again, more force this time. My chest rumbled with satisfaction. The mate-bond burned brighter, tighter. My mate. My future. All I had to do now was convince her to accept what I already knew.

I crouched low beside the edge of the bath, close enough to feel the tension radiating from her body. That scent—wariness tinged with fear—hit me again, sharp and unwelcome. It was a knife pressed against my warrior's instincts, demanding I tread carefully when every fiber of my being told me to act. My claws scraped against the stone tiles beneath me, but I forced my hands to remain steady, curved inward to show that, for now, I meant no harm.

The bond howled within me, insistent and unrelenting. Soothe her, it demanded, shield her, claim her.

My instincts roared their agreement in a frenzy, but I smothered them the way I had hundreds of times in battle—as a leader, not a beast. This wasn’t the moment for dominance or possession. Not yet.Not until I could strip the fear from her gaze and replace it with something far more potent.

My eyes drifted to the tray of food one of the servants had brought earlier. Crystal fruit, redclaw meat, lava-crusted bread—sustenance meant for warriors, each piece glistening and steaming in its fresh preparation.

Her eyes darted to the meal, then back to me. I saw it then, flickering just beneath her defiance—a flash of carefully guarded hunger. She wanted it, needed it, though she wouldn’t dare reach for it. Not yet. There was too much uncertainty between us, too much unknown.

And still, she watched me, her jaw tight, her battered resolve holding firm even as her body betrayed her needs.

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