Page 78 of The Naga Lord's Pretty Little Mouse

A third voice, louder, more mocking. "Imagine it—Lord Xirath taking a proper mate at last. One of our own. Not some human who doesn’t even belong here."

Laughter follows.

My grip tightens until my knuckles ache, but I do not turn.

I do not give them the satisfaction of my anger.

But I am listening.

They know it.

"Five noble daughters," one of them continues, his voice edged with smug amusement. "Gifted to him to undo the mistake he’s been toying with."

A coldness curls through me.

Five naga females.

Not just human offerings, not just a batch of disposable women meant to serve as test subjects for a bond that will never form.

Five noble-born naga women.

Warriors. Heiresses. Daughters of powerful houses.

Not just meant for testing.

Meant for claiming.

Meant for bearing heirs.

The truth sinks in, sharp and unforgiving.

Xirath did not tell me.

Not a word. Not a warning. Not even the decency of a lie.

The breath in my lungs turns to stone.

I want to pretend it doesn’t matter, that I never cared what he did, what choices he made.

But this is different.

This is final.

I feel it crack something deep inside me.

"She’s awfully quiet today."

The voice, closer this time, dripping with amusement.

I glance up in time to see Jhoren step into my line of vision, arms crossed over his broad chest, golden reptilian eyes gleaming with something too knowing.

The crowd shifts, tension thickening.

"You look like you’re about to break, rat," he murmurs, tilting his head. "Shall I help?"

My stomach knots.

They do not want me here.

---