Page 14 of Fated to the Drakarn Commander (Drakarn Mates 4)

"What was necessary," he said simply.

"Necessary?" The word echoed, bouncing off the stone, twisted. "Necessary forwhat? To mark your territory? What the hell happened in that meeting?"

First Darrokar, now him. Was this some alien mating ritual bullshit again?

"There was no time for consultation." His tone hardened, wings spreading slightly. Unconscious display of dominance. Making himself bigger. "Plaktish intended to take you. To Ignarath."

"So you decided to 'claim' me instead," I stated, bitterness sharp on my tongue. "How is that any different?"

"I didnotclaim you," Khorlar growled, the sound vibrating through me. His wings flared wider, webbing flushing darker. Heat? Anger? Something else? "Ipreventedthem from taking you."

"By saying I was yours," I shot back. Heart pounding, a frantic drumbeat—rage, confusion, and that other thing. That damn heat making my skin feel too tight.

"By stating you were under my protection," he corrected, eyes darkening, amber turning to burnished, terrifying gold.

Deep breath. Steady. Try to steady. This was … too much.

And one glaring issue remained. My eyes snagged on the sleeping platform, large enough for … two? A sudden, suffocating tightness gripped my chest. "One bed," I stated flatly, the words clipped. Don't look at it. "Wasthatpart of your grand protection strategy?"

His gaze followed mine, then snapped back to my face. Pupils dilated, then contracted to slits. "Yes." A beat. He cleared his throat. "No. There was no time … for servants to rearrange."

That first syllable. Yes. Neutral, yet loaded. Sent fresh heat crawling over my skin. "Well, that's not happening," I stated firmly, eyes locked on his, refusing to glance back at the bed. "Ground rules. If I'm stuck here."

His brow ridge lifted. Silent. Waiting. The intensity of his focus was unnerving. A predator deciding.

"One," I began, ticking fingers off. Hands steady, thank god. Insides churning. Talking too fast, need to control this. "I'm not sharing that bed."

"Two, no touching. Not unless I'm literally about to be skewered. Three—" I stepped closer, invading his space, forcing him to look down at me. Close enough to see the gold flecks swirling in his irises. Close enough for his heat to radiate against my skin. "You tell meeverything. No half-truths. No convenient omissions. I need the whole damn picture."

He regarded me silently. Long moments stretched. The air thickened, suddenly heavy, charged with static … or something else. Something I refused to name. His scent—that impossible mix of hot stone and wild spice—wrapped around me, coiling in my lungs. My head spun. And my mouth … my mouth watered. A bizarre, unnerving reaction that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the predator standing too close.

Finally, a slight inclination of his head. "Acceptable terms."

"Good." Some tension eased from my shoulders, immediately replaced by a new, prickling awareness. "Now. Where areyousleeping?"

"The floor will suffice." He paused, gaze sweeping the room, then returning to me. "If I am to protect you—and youdorequire protection," he added, cutting off my objection before it formed, "then I must remain. In this room. On this, I must insist."

"Perfect." No sympathy. He made this bed … or rather, this situation. I grabbed my pack, exhaustion hitting me like a physical blow. Emotional whiplash. Limbs heavy. Thoughts sluggish. "I'm resting. Long day."

Khorlar nodded once. Paused in the doorway, silhouetted. Light caught his scales, shifting gray to silver.

"Sarah," he said, using my name again. That careful tone tightening my chest.

"Hawk," I corrected, automatic, weary.

"Hawk," he acknowledged. "You are not claimed. You are not property. But youareprotected." His eyes locked with mine, molten gold holding me captive. I felt the heat of his gaze like a physical touch, unwanted, unsettling. "Do not mistake one for the other."

The words hung there, a promise and a threat, stirring that damned treacherous warmth deep inside me all over again.

5

KHORLAR

Two days.

A lifetime trapped in shared quarters. Her scent—alien sweetness, sharp and clinging—wasn't just in the air. It had burrowedundermy scales, sunk into the ancient stone, woven itself through the stifling silence between us.

I spent two days watching her move. She had quick, contained energy. A predator penned. Each clipped step was a friction against my fraying restraint. Her voice rang deep in my bones. It clawed its way inside and took root where I couldn't dig it out.

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