Page 36 of Naga General's Mate

Brivul set his cup down with a sharp click. “You what?”

“I downloaded proof from his terminal. Communications, transfer records—everything.” She pulled a small data chip from her pocket. “That’s why he wanted to kill me. He suspected I knew something, but I never admitted it.”

Pride swelled in his chest. His clever, brave mate had outmaneuvered a kingpin. “You’ve been carrying this the whole time?”

“Are you angry I didn’t tell you sooner?”

“Angry? This is perfect. The council takes embezzlement seriously. With evidence like this, they’ll arrest him immediately.”

“And then we can get Priscilla out more easily.”

“Exactly.” His mind raced with possibilities. This changed everything. “No guards, no security. Just walk right in and take her.”

“You’re really not mad I kept this from you?”

He caught her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up. “You survived. You protected yourself and your sister. That’s what matters.”

The tension melted from her shoulders. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you. Trust isn’t… easy for me.”

“But you’re telling me now.”

Her eyes met his, determination replacing uncertainty. “Yes. I am.”

Silence settled over the room. Brivul watched Mila’s fingers trace patterns on the bedsheet. The data chip sat between them, a tiny thing to hold such power.

“Thank you.” Her voice came soft but steady. “For believing me. For helping me to take down Kurg.”

“He’ll pay for what he did to you.”

“But we need a solid plan first.” She pressed her palm against his bandaged wound. “And you need to heal.”

The warrior in him wanted to protest, to declare himself fit for battle. But the warmth of her touch grounded him, reminding him that rushing in half-healed would only put her at risk.

“A few more days of rest won’t change anything.”

“Exactly.” Her smile carried a hint of victory. “Kurg’s not going anywhere, and neither is Priscilla. We do this right, or we don’t do it at all.”

We. Such a simple word, yet it carried the weight of her trust, her faith in him. After a year of questioning his own judgment, this remarkable woman put her life—and her sister’s—in his hands.

“You’re right.” The admission came easier than he expected. “We plan first. Then we strike.”

Her shoulders relaxed, tension he hadn’t noticed until it disappeared. “Good. Because I’m not letting you out of this bed until that wound closes properly.”

“Is that a promise?”

Pink dusted her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “Don’t push your luck.”

Night crept across the room as Mila adjusted Brivul’s pillows for the tenth time. Her scent wrapped around him and made his scales tingle.

“The pillows are fine.”

“You keep shifting.” She tucked the blanket around him. “Does it still hurt?”

His wound barely registered compared to the ache in his chest whenever she touched him. “I’m a warrior. Pain means nothing.”

“Right. That’s why you winced when I changed the bandage earlier.”

“I did not wince.”

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