Page 115 of The Naga Lord's Pretty Little Mouse

The spell forces my body to still, but my mind is a storm of rage.

I meet his gaze, hatred blistering behind my eyes. "I will never be yours."

Jalith chuckles, as if my resistance is nothing more than a child’s tantrum. "You already are. The moment you ran, you ensured this would happen. You should have accepted my kindness when you had the chance."

I snarl, my teeth bared like an animal.

He reaches for me, his fingers brushing my cheek, and the spell burns beneath my skin, urging me to lean into his touch.

No.

My vision swims. The runes beneath my feet pulse harder, their glow winding around my ankles, binding me.

The pull intensifies. My heartbeat stutters, my ribs threatening to cave in under the pressure. The mate bond. It’s forming.

No. No. No.

A scream builds in my throat, raw and agonized.

I don’t want this.

Not with him.

The pain drives deeper, clawing at my lungs, wrapping around my soul.

Somewhere in the haze, I feel it, a tether, faint but unyielding, pulling in the opposite direction.

It’s not Jalith.

A name rips from my lips, shattering the chanting, cutting through the magic like a blade.

"Xirath!"

The chamber trembles.

Gasps rise from the gathered elves as the glow of the binding spell flickers, the magic quivering like a beast sensing its first wound.

Jalith’s expression sharpens, his amusement vanishing. "What did you say?"

My body convulses against the spell, against the unseen hands trying to wrench me toward him. The pain threatens to splinter me apart, but I cling to the single truth that surges through my veins with undeniable certainty.

I scream again, the words ripped from my very soul.

"Xirath is my mate!"

The entire hall shudders.

The runes crack, jagged fractures splitting the stone. The magic’s hold falters, just for a moment, but it’s enough.

A vicious growl tears from Jalith’s throat, his calm composure shattering like glass. "You stupid girl," he snarls. "You think shouting his name will change your fate? You are mine!"

The magic slams back into me, harder, crueler. My legs buckle. The collar flares with agony, burning deep into my skin, forcing me to my knees.

I taste blood.

But I do not take it back.

I do not surrender.

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