Page 29 of Naga General's Mate

“Hard not to when you parade around half-naked.” She stabbed a piece of meat with more force than necessary.

“I didn’t hear any complaints.” His expression held no malice, just warmth and something that made her pulse quicken.

“The food’s getting cold,” she muttered, focusing on her plate.

“It’s delicious.” He took a bite of bread. “Almost as sweet as your blushing.”

“I don’t blush.” But her cheeks burned hotter.

“No? Must be the lighting then.”

Their eyes met across the table. His lips curved into a smile that did dangerous things to her insides. She should look away. But his gaze held her captive.

“You have sauce on your chin.” His voice dropped lower.

“Where?” Her hand flew up.

“Other side.” He leaned forward, reaching across the table. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, lingering a moment too long. “Got it.”

The simple touch sent electricity through her veins. She grabbed her cup, needing something to do with her hands. The spiced tea scalded her tongue, but she welcomed the distraction.

This was madness. He’d saved her life, yes, but that didn’t mean she should trust him with her heart. Even if his smile made her forget how to breathe.

Mila set down her empty cup, savoring the last hints of the rich meal. Her muscles ached less now, wrapped in the comfort of good food and relative safety.

“We should get some rest.” Brivul gathered their plates. “I’ll take the floor.”

“The floor?” The massive bed could easily fit three people. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I insist.” He pulled extra blankets from the wardrobe. “I’ve slept in worse places during my time as a general.”

The casual mention caught her attention. “General?”

His shoulders tensed as he arranged the blankets. “Yes, on Nirum.”

“Did something happen?”

“A civilian transport. Pirates.” Pain etched across his features. “We thought we had them cornered. My team was exceptional. We forced the pirates to land.”

The blankets forgotten, he stared into the distance. “The fight moved to the ground. We were winning. Then…” His fists clenched. “One of their ships launched a missile. Hit the civilian transport. All those people…”

Mila’s chest tightened at the raw anguish in his voice. This explained so much—his protective instincts, his willingness to help her.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I was their general. Their safety was my responsibility.” He shook his head. “I resigned the next day. Couldn’t bear to wear the uniform anymore.”

“Is that why you came to Jorvla and took a job at the clinic?”

“Seemed fitting. A failed protector guarding a shady clinic.” His bitter laugh held no humor. “At least until I met you.”

Heat bloomed in her cheeks. She watched him settle onto his makeshift bed, struck by how much trust he’d just shown her. Maybe she wasn’t the only one learning to open up.

The dim lamplight cast shadows across his face. Her heart ached at his self-loathing. This warrior who’d risked everything to save her saw himself as a failure?

“You’re wrong, you know.” Her voice came out softer than intended. “About being a failed protector.”

His eyes met hers, questioning.

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