Page 10 of The Naga Lord's Pretty Little Mouse

6

SEREN

The walls of my chamber breathe.

The architecture is ruthless, black stone carved with sharp angles, the design more fortress than home. No useless decorations, no fragile furniture. Even the bed is built into the rock itself, as if it has always been here, waiting for whoever is foolish enough to rest within these walls.

The night outside is not silent.

A city of warriors doesn't sleep.

The distant roar of the arena still echoes through the cliffs, a hungry sound, vibrating in my bones. Below, the jungle hums, creatures slithering through the underbrush, wings beating against thick, humid air, the unseen watching from the branches above.

Nothing here is tame.

I pace to the window, my bare feet soundless on the polished stone, and look beyond the edge of the estate. The jungle pulses beneath the moonlight, the vines and ferns swaying despite the stillness of the wind. Some of the leaves shimmer with a faint glow, a reflection of Feher’s favor, the naga’s god of land and water.

I’ve heard of them gods. Naga’s believe in them. Deep, old, and uninterested in mercy.

I flex my wrists against the lingering weight of the chains, but there’s no resistance. He left them undone.

He should not have.

Xirath doesn't treat me as lesser than dirt beneat his shoe, a slave. He has not given orders to kneel, has not stripped me of the simple clothing I was given, has not touched me beyond what was necessary. Yet I feel his presence more than any master before him.

The silence he left behind is worse than his words.

Because he is waiting.

I should have expected it. A naga doesn't give anything freely, not land, not power, not even control. They make you take it.

I will.

The exit is beyond the hall, past the open balcony where I saw him disappear earlier. I slip through the doorway, pressing against the cool stone as I move, my breath steady, my heartbeat measured.

If I don't leave now, I never will.

Each step forward is calculated, the awareness of this fortress wrapping around me like a predator that has already caught its prey, waiting for the moment I notice.

A shadow flickers across the corridor ahead.

I press myself back against the carved stone, pulse quickening. The naga guards have not been unkind, but they are still his. And I doubt Xirath would appreciate waking to find me gone.

I count my breaths. One. Two.

The figure moves beyond the archway, vanishing deeper into the estate.

I press forward.

The open hall stretches before me, leading to the jungle beyond.

I am two steps from freedom when his voice slithers through the night.

“Running so soon?”

I stop.

Not because he has commanded it. Because I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me startled.

---