Page 3 of Naga's Mate

A soft, distinctive hissing freezes me in place, my hand still pressed against my neck where I've applied the neutralizer. Not the ambient hiss of climate systems, but something organic. Something alive.

No. This isn't happening.

The inspection wasn't scheduled until tomorrow. The guard rotation should remain routine tonight. Unless?—

Another wave of tingling washes over my skin, stronger than the first. My suppressant is deteriorating faster than anticipated, the formula breaking down under the greenhouse's specialized environment. And somewhere nearby, moving with predatory silence through the dense foliage I'd hoped would conceal me, lurks something far more dangerous than standard security.

I press deeper into the shadows, using the massive leaves of theEpipremnumas cover. Through gaps in the vegetation, I detect movement—fluid and powerful. A massive form navigates between specimen tanks with sinuous grace impossible for human anatomy.

Commander Nezzar. Unmistakable. His size alone identifies him—larger than standard naga security, his upper torso powerfully muscled where it transitions to his serpentine lower half. Even in the diffuse bioluminescent lighting, the iridescent quality of his scales is distinctive, shifting between emerald and sapphire as he moves.

The facility's fearsome guardian, conducting an unscheduled pre-inspection tour. On the precise night I require access to restricted specimens.

My hand instinctively presses against my abdomen, where another wave of tingling signals my body's accelerating betrayal. If my suppressant fails completely in his presence, with his enhanced chemosensory capabilities...

I close my eyes briefly, compressing my panic into a tight, controlled knot. I've survived five years by outsmarting their systems, by understanding the science of scent and biology better than my captors. I won't fail now.

Section G stands less than thirty meters away. TheOphidia sedativaI need grows in the northwest quadrant. Commander Nezzar's current position places him in the eastern approach, moving with deliberate slowness as he examines specimens.

I face a choice: retreat to relative safety and confront the consequences of suppressant failure, or advance forward and risk immediate discovery by the most dangerous predator in the facility.

No choice at all, really.

I draw a deep breath, confirm my scent neutralizer remains active, and begin to move—silent as twilight, desperate as only the hunted can be.

CHAPTER2

SCENT IN THE AIR

POV: NEZZAR

The greenhouse throbswith vitality around me, its atmosphere dense with moisture calibrated precisely for naga physiology. I navigate through the lush vegetation with practiced silence, my serpentine lower half flowing across polished stone pathways like liquid shadow. Security personnel straighten as I approach, their scales catching the ethereal glow of bioluminescent flora that illuminate our domain. They maintain respectful silence, well-trained in proper protocols. Five years since the Conquest, and my cultivated reputation ensures inspections proceed without trivial interruptions.

This preliminary assessment was intended as mere formality. Elder Xylem arrives tomorrow with his contingent of specialists, and New Ophidia's premier research facility must be impeccable. The Agricultural Research Complex stands as testament to naga superiority—merging human botanical expertise with our refined understanding of chemical compounds. A model of integration that other territories in the Serpent Dominion would be wise to replicate.

My muscular coils adjust their position as I examine the security logs at the monitoring station. Everything appears orderly, as expected from a facility under my command. The lower portion of my body contracts subtly, an unconscious recalibration of musculature that humans find disconcerting to observe. Their discomfort provides quiet amusement, though I maintain the impassive expression befitting my rank.

I prepare to continue my inspection circuit when something arrests my attention. A disturbance in the atmospheric composition, so faint that momentarily I question my sensory perception.

My forked tongue extends instinctively—sampling the moisture-laden air, drawing microscopic particles across specialized chemoreceptors. Information floods my neural pathways with primal clarity.

Omega.

The signature is peculiar—artificially subdued, chemically masked, yet unmistakable. Impending heat. Fertility and biological promise encoded in molecular markers that trigger ancestral hunting responses. My pupils contract to narrow vertical slits, vision sharpening as predatory instincts activate without conscious decision.

"Report," I command the nearby guard, voice maintaining its measured cadence despite the heightened alertness coursing through my system. "Which omega has authorization for Section G tonight?"

The guard's bewilderment appears genuine. "None, Commander. No omegas have clearance for restricted sections."

Precisely as I suspected. I taste the air again, separating the omega signature from the botanical symphony of chemical compounds. The scent carries distinctive markers—female, unmated, approaching fertility cycle. But beneath these, something unprecedented. Chemical suppressants, sophisticated enough to nearly obscure her biological designation. Nearly, but not completely.

"Maintain standard patrol patterns," I instruct the guard. "I will personally investigate a potential security breach."

My body transitions to hunting mode, pursuing the elusive scent trail deeper into Section G. This particular quadrant houses our most valuable botanical specimens—rare flora with properties essential for medical applications, breeding enhancement formulas, and territorial defense mechanisms. Access remains strictly limited, security protocols designed under my direct supervision.

Yet someone has penetrated them. Not merely someone—anunregistered omega.

My tongue samples the air again, mapping my quarry's movements. Swift, methodical progression. Not random wandering, but purposeful navigation of someone with clear objectives. This omega knows the facility intimately. Not an external intruder, but someone concealing their true nature within our established hierarchy.

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