Page 19 of Naga General's Mate

“Now.” He gripped Mila’s hand and pulled her through the crowd. She ran behind him to keep up with his speed.

The press of bodies provided cover as they darted between stalls. Sweet-scented smoke from food vendors masked their scent. His muscles coiled tightly, ready to fight at the slightest provocation.

“Left.” Mila tugged his arm toward a narrow alley. “The transport station’s this way.”

Smart woman. He followed her lead through the maze of back streets. Rust-stained walls towered above them, blocking out most of the artificial light. The stench of decay and refuse filled his nostrils.

“Down.” He pushed her behind a dumpster as voices echoed ahead.

Two station guards passed. Brivul’s hand stayed firm on Mila’s shoulder until the sound faded.

The transport station loomed ahead, its gleaming facade a stark contrast to the grimy surroundings. Security cameras swept the main entrance in regular patterns.

“Service entrance.” Mila nodded to a small door half-hidden behind cargo containers. “Less security.”

They slipped inside. The service corridor hummed with machinery. Brivul guided them through the maintenance tunnels, avoiding the passenger terminals entirely.

“Here.” He pulled her into a maintenance closet as footsteps approached.

The tiny space pressed them close. Mila’s breath tickled his chest and sent heat radiating through him.

“The cargo hold’s our best bet.” Mila’s whisper broke through his thoughts. “They load the trains at night.”

“Agreed. We’ll need to time it right.”

“A schedule’s posted near the loading dock.”

His lips curved. “You’ve thought this through.”

“Had to. Been planning an escape for years.”

The fierce pride in her voice made his chest tighten. His mate was not just beautiful but clever—a dangerous combination.

Brivul pressed against the cold metal wall, scanning for threats as they exited the maintenance closet. The corridor stretched ahead, harsh fluorescent lights casting strange shadows. His warrior instincts screamed at how exposed they were.

“Clear.” He guided Mila forward.

They rounded the corner. His breath caught. Their faces stared back from every display screen—his stern expression, Mila’s defiant gaze. The bounty numbers scrolled beneath.

“That’s… a lot of credits.” Mila’s voice wavered.

From former general to wanted criminal, he thought. The irony twisted his mouth into a bitter smile. One choice had erased decades of service.

He’d do it again.

“Loading dock schedule’s there.” Mila pointed to a terminal.

The schedule glowed on the screen. Next cargo load—midnight. One hour.

A door slammed nearby. Brivul yanked Mila behind a storage container as heavy boots marched past.

“Kurg’s men.” Her whisper brushed his scales.

Two guards stopped at the wanted poster screens. Their weapons gleamed under the harsh lights. After a few moments, the guards moved on. Brivul’s muscles unclenched slightly.

“Midnight,” Brivul said in a low voice. “We need somewhere to lay low until then.”

“Service shaft access is through there.” Mila gestured to a narrow door. “Nobody checks them.”

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