Page 4 of Naga Warrior's Mate

Something inside Dernin snapped.His tail whipped out, catching the Kraxen’s legs.As his opponent stumbled, Dernin struck.His fist connected with the creature’s thorax, finding the weak spot between armor plates.The Kraxen wheezed.

Dernin pressed his advantage.He grabbed one of the Kraxen’s arms, using the creature’s momentum to slam it into the arena wall.His tail wrapped around another arm, immobilizing it.

“Yield,” Dernin growled.

The Kraxen spat and thrashed.Dernin tightened his grip, his muscles straining against his opponent’s strength.

“I said yield!”

The Kraxen’s free arm went limp.“I...yield.”

The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and angry shouts as guards rushed in to separate them.Dernin’s chest heaved as they grabbed his arms, but he didn’t resist.He’d won without killing—small comfort.

As they led him from the arena, Dernin caught Fyret’s calculating stare.The kingpin’s smile promised this was only the beginning.

The guards shoved Dernin into a larger holding area, his tail sliding across the rough stone floor.The room stank of sweat and desperation, mixed with the distinct odor of various species crammed together.Other fighters lounged on metal benches bolted to the walls or paced in tight circles, their movements carrying the restless energy of caged predators.

A Jorvlen approached, his bulky form rippling with each step.Filaments along his slimy skin twitched as he moved.The creature’s scent carried notes of violence and old blood.

“Fresh meat.”The Jorvlen’s deep voice gurgled.“I’m Bariv.That was quite a show you put on.”

“I don’t perform for anyone’s entertainment,” Dernin growled.

“That’s what they all say.”Bariv’s form pulsed with amusement.“Yet here you are, same as us.Fighting.Surviving.”

“I won’t be here long.”Dernin’s jaw clenched.

“Planning an escape?”Bariv leaned closer, his voice dropping to a wet whisper.“Three fighters tried last month.Want to know what happened to them?Their pieces decorated the ring for days.Made quite an impression on the crowd.”

Dernin’s muscles tensed, but he held his ground.“I’m not like the others.”

“No?”Bariv circled him, filaments writhing.“You’re exactly like us.Property.The sooner you accept that, the longer you’ll live.Fyret owns you now, warrior.Your honor, your pride—none of that matters here.Only the fight matters.”

“You sound like someone who’s given up.”

Bariv’s form rippled violently.“I sound like someone who’s survived.But by all means, keep your delusions.They’ll make it more entertaining when Fyret breaks you.”The Jorvlen then moved away.

Dernin coiled his tail under him as he settled into a corner of the holding cell, his golden scales scraping against the rough stone wall.The constant drip of water from somewhere above matched the rhythm of his mounting frustration.

“Stupid,” he muttered, running a hand over his face.“So damned stupid.”

The taste of his own failure lingered bitter on his tongue.A warrior’s first lesson: Never patrol alone.Yet he’d dismissed it like some fresh recruit.

His jaw tightened as he watched the other fighters mill about the cell.The air hung thick with the stench of fear and resignation.

“I’m a warrior of Nirum,” he whispered to himself.“And warriors find a way.”

He flexed his muscles, testing the soreness from his recent fight.The Kraxen had landed some solid hits, but nothing was broken.He could work with that.

“They expect me to break,” he said under his breath, his tail tightening with renewed determination.“But they don’t understand what it means to be Niri.”

He’d find a way out—not through brute force like the others had tried but with patience and precision.The warrior way.

Chapter 3

Alaysia

Theroughfabricofthe blindfold scratched against Alaysia’s eyelids as unseen hands guided her forward.Her bare feet padded across what felt like polished stone, cool and smooth beneath her toes.The air shifted—warmer, stuffier—suggesting they’d entered a room.

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