Page 102 of The Naga Lord's Pretty Little Mouse

"Merciful?" My laugh is hollow. "You’re a liar."

He tilts his head, unbothered. "You wound me, little one. Have I not been patient?"

He steps closer.

I step back.

"You belong to me." His voice drops to something dark, possessive. "You always have."

I grip my dagger tighter. "I belong to no one."

Jalith chuckles. "Say that all you want. But we both know the truth, don’t we?"

My heart pounds.

"You feel it, don’t you?" he murmurs, his eyes gleaming. "The pull."

"Go to hell," I spit.

He exhales slowly, as if my defiance is an inconvenience rather than an obstacle.

"Enough of this," he says. "Come, and we will finish the ceremony. Once the bond is sealed, there will be no more running. No more pretending."

His hand extends.

Not in kindness, but in certainty.

"You have a choice," he tells me. "Come to me, or be dragged to me. Either way, the result is the same."

The wind roars around us, whipping my hair against my face.

My fingers tremble around the blade.

I will never be his.

Jalith watches me, already victorious.

But he doesn’t understand.

I will not be claimed.

I take a step back.

His gaze hardens.

"Seren," he warns.

The precipice of the cliff crumbles beneath my heel.

I exhale.

"Goodbye, Jalith."

I leap.

44

SEREN

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