Page 17 of The Naga Lord's Pretty Little Mouse

I force my expression into something smooth, unbothered, even as my body rebels against the sheer weight of him.

Of what he is about to do.

He stops just short of me, his tail shifting, circling behind me, not touching, but closing a cage I cannot see.

I lift my chin. "Is this some kind of game?"

His golden eyes flicker with something unreadable. "This is a declaration."

I hold his gaze, my heart hammering against my chest. "Of what?"

His voice is quiet, yet it cuts through the arena as if spoken like a command.

"That you are mine."

The words drag across my skin like the edge of a blade.

The crowd shifts, murmurs rippling through them like waves in a storm, but I don't look away.

I will not bow.

Not here. Not to him.

Xirath watches me, his patience like something ancient and waiting, something I don't understand.

He doesn't touch me.

But his voice settles into my bones.

"You wanted to see how my people fight for their mates?" he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear it now.

The murmuring around us is deafening.

He smiles, slow and dangerous. "You will have your answer soon enough."

9

XIRATH

Seren stands before me, her expression carved from stone, but I see the tension in her throat, the taut set of her shoulders.

She doesn't speak, doesn't break, but her body tells its own story. She understands what this is now. What I have done.

The other naga don't look at her the same way anymore.

The moment I stepped into the pit, they saw her as mine. The shift was instant, absolute. Some in the crowd had considered her a curiosity. A spectacle.

Now?

Now they see a challenge.

The fight will begin soon.

Not for her, they would never dare.

Not after I have claimed her.

But the other warriors, they will want to see if I am still worthy of holding what I take.

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