Dark hair cascading over her shoulders, noble robes too fine for a mere visitor.
She belongs here.
My stomach clenches.
Xirath doesn’t look at me as he gently shifts me off him, standing in one smooth motion.
I sit there, still catching my breath, still burning from his touch, as he steps toward her.
The female’s gaze flicks to me, her expression unreadable before she turns back to him.
"You're early," Xirath says, voice steady, unreadable.
She smiles.
"I couldn’t wait to see you."
Something in me snaps.
I push to my feet, fists clenched at my sides.
He does not look back at me.
He does not acknowledge what just happened.
The kiss still lingers on my lips, but this moment is already slipping away.
Maybe that’s for the best.
36
XIRATH
The heat from Seren’s body consumes me, even as I step away from her, even as I force every fiber of control back into place.
The kiss still burns on my lips, searing through the wall of restraint I’ve spent decades building.
But I do not look back.
I do not let myself glance at the human woman standing in the private arena, the one who just tried to kill me, then tried to claim me.
Instead, I turn to the naga woman waiting at the entrance, the one who has every right to be here.
Talyra stands with her arms crossed, one elegant brow arched, emerald-green scales shimmering under the torchlight. Her tail flicks once against the stone floor, the movement slow, measured.
It’s not anger in her eyes. Not judgment.
Just curiosity.
She doesn’t speak right away, waiting for me to close the distance between us, waiting for me to be the first to acknowledge what just happened.
I sigh through my nose, flexing my fingers, trying to rid them of the memory of Seren’s skin beneath them.
Talyra tilts her head. "That’s the human, then?"
There is no need to ask which human.
I run a hand down my face. "You have no idea how little patience I have for this conversation right now."