Page 95 of The Naga Lord's Pretty Little Mouse

Dark elves.

I unsheath my blade, fangs bared.

She is running straight into their hands.

Not again.

Not when I just got her back.

I will not let her go.

Mate or not.

She is mine.

41

SEREN

The town is a shadow of civilization.

Low buildings sag under the weight of years, wooden beams cracked with time. The streets, packed with carts and bodies, reek of desperation, merchants barking their wares, workers hauling crates of goods, children darting between wagons with quick, practiced feet.

A border town, caught between the fringes of Nagaland and the unknown beyond. A perfect place to disappear.

I slip into the crowd, hood drawn low, movements calculated.

Every muscle in my body screams for rest, but stopping is not an option. Not yet.

I weave through the press of bodies, sticking to the edges, watching. Here, humans and naga mingle under an uneasy truce, the market bustling with trade. Stalls overflow with dried meats, bolts of rough-spun fabric, glinting blades sharpened for a price. A pair of naga warriors stand near a blacksmith’s forge, tails coiling lazily, eyes sharp despite their easy stance.

None of them pay me any attention.

Good.

The scent of burning oil and unwashed bodies clogs my throat as I near a group of humans loading supplies onto a wooden carriage. They work with efficient movements, exchanging terse words, the kind spoken by those who live too close to danger.

One of them, a thick-shouldered man with deep-set eyes glances up.

"Looking for work?" His voice is rough, worn.

I nod. "Looking for passage. Where are you headed?"

"East," he grunts, securing a crate. "Materials run to the next town. You can ride in back, long as you don’t slow us down."

Relief cuts through me like a blade.

This could work.

I open my mouth to agree.

Then the energy in the market shifts.

The noise dulls.

Merchants lower their voices, heads turning toward the street’s entrance. The air, once buzzing with trade, thickens with unease.

A group of dark elves step into the square.

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