Page 50 of Naga Warrior's Mate

Dernin met his gaze coolly.“I don’t lose to cheaters.”

“What did you say?”Bariv’s filaments bristled.

“You heard me.”

The spotlights continued to sweep across them as Fyret detailed their fighting records to the crowd.

“When I win,” Bariv growled, “I’m going to make sure you watch while I claim my prize.”

Dernin’s tail lashed against the ground.“Touch her and it’ll be the last thing you do.”

“Big words from someone about to lose.”

“This circus act ends today.”Dernin’s eyes narrowed.

His gaze drifted to where Alaysia sat.This wasn’t about some rigged championship.This was about protecting what was his.

The announcements reached their crescendo as attendants entered to prepare the ring.Dernin maintained his stoic facade, but inside his warrior’s heart burned with purpose.He wasn’t fighting for their entertainment, the corrupt games, or even his own survival anymore.He was fighting for Alaysia’s future.

Fyret gestured for both fighters to come to the center of the ring.Dernin’s tail moved with grace as he approached.The noise of the crowd faded as he focused on maintaining his composure.His warrior’s training demanded honor, even in this corrupt arena.

An attendant presented ornate crystal glasses filled with deep red wine.“A toast!”Fyret’s voice cut through the din.“To our champions!”

“To glory,” Bariv sneered, raising his glass.

Dernin took his glass, his eyes fixed on Bariv.“To honor,” he countered, voice low and controlled.The irony of toasting to honor in this dishonorable place wasn’t lost on him.

“Drink, fighters!”Fyret commanded.

Dernin watched Bariv drain his glass without hesitation.The wine in Dernin’s own glass swirled as he pretended to take a long sip, letting most of it run inconspicuously down his scales instead.

“May the strongest fighter prevail,” Fyret proclaimed, stepping back.

“Getting nervous yet, snake?”Bariv’s slimy skin gleamed under the lights.

“No, but you should be,” Dernin replied.

They circled each other as attendants cleared the ring.Dernin’s tail glided across the ground in smooth, controlled movements.He caught a hint of Alaysia’s rose scent lingering on his skin.His mate.The thought steeled his resolve.

“Remember the rules,” Fyret announced.“Fight continues until submission or unconsciousness.No killing—these fighters are valuable property.”

Property.The word made Dernin sick.He focused on Bariv, studying his opponent’s stance.The Jorvlen was already showing signs of whatever had been in his wine—his movements were more aggressive, less controlled.

The bell hadn’t rung yet, but tension crackled between them like lightning before a storm.

Fyret sauntered out of the ring, leaving Dernin and Bariv to face each other.The arena lights cast harsh shadows across Bariv’s bulging muscles, his filaments wiggling with unnatural energy.

The bell rang.

Bariv charged forward uncontrollably with a roar.Dernin’s warrior instincts took over as he pivoted, his tail providing perfect balance as Bariv’s wild swing missed by inches.

“Stand still and fight!”Bariv’s voice carried a slurred edge.

Dernin responded with a swift combination—two strikes to Bariv’s torso followed by a tail sweep.“A true warrior doesn’t need enhancements to win.”

Bariv staggered but recovered quickly, his enhanced strength evident as he shrugged off blows that should have dropped him.His filaments whipped through the air, trying to entangle Dernin’s arms.

Dernin weaved around the attack, his movements fluid and controlled.The warrior training of his homeland guided every motion.He landed a solid hit to Bariv’s jaw, satisfaction coursing through him as the Jorvlen’s head snapped back.

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