The Naga Warlord's Virgin Mate: A

Sci-Fi Monster Romance (Serpents of

Serant Book 3) Robin O'Connor
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The Naga Warlord’s
Virgin Mate
Robin O’Connor
Table of Content
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Epilogue 2
Appendix
Author’s Note
Robin’s Mailing List
About the Author
Books by Robin O’Connor
 Chapter 1
Naomi
I was about to die for the third freaking time. I was so angry about it that I was growling back at the monstrous creatures
that surrounded me. Maybe facing death multiple times had broken my ability to be scared. A girl could start to think she was
invincible if this kept happening. Just a glance at my useless legs dissuaded me of that notion, a mocking laugh escaping which
I followed up by baring my teeth at the nearest monster.
Less than thirty minutes ago I’d woken up from my second ‘death’ to discover that I’d ended up stranded on a strange alien
planet. What should have been my sacrifice to my family, taking the place of my brother, had turned bizarre in a flash.
For me it seemed like only just today, I’d been thrown into a small room to face an execution I hadn’t deserved. One
moment I was panicking and berating myself for making this rash choice, then consoling myself that at least Josh got to live.
The next, Vera Clayborne was standing over me, waking me from a stasis pod.
My first brush with this alien planet had been crazy and terrifying but it had been tempered by seeing familiar human faces.
Like the rich heiress, Vera, who had supposedly been executed for committing fraud. There had also been Kalani, a beautiful
African American woman with a take-charge attitude that had made me feel safe and protected.
If not for their presence I didn’t know how I would have responded to the sight of some barely humanoid creatures. Three
of them, in several shades of blue, their scales shimmering in the strange purple sunlight. Naga, Kalani called them, mythical
creatures that shouldn’t be possible but somehow existed on this planet.
One of them had lugged me out of the crashed shuttle our stasis pods had been in, hauling me carelessly around like I was
a sack of potatoes. At that point, fear had existed, and my system was flooded with adrenaline. Instincts for survival battling
with the rational knowledge that this brutish creature was just rescuing me. It didn’t feel like a rescue when his dark blue face
was set into a perpetual scowl.
Kalani hadn’t been scared of him though. She’d squared off with him and yelled in his face as if she was scolding a
wayward teenager. That’s what had instantly made me respect the woman. She was of average height, with sleek muscles
defining her slender, athletic body. Killer cheekbones and that whole exotic beauty thing made her look badass and feminine.
The type of woman I had once aspired to be.
It was her size compared to that brute of a male that had made their face-off seem so unlikely. Then the hordes had
attacked, and I really mean hordes. Naga with shimmering red scales had raced up the mountain toward us and the crashed
ship. A ship that had vanished into a subterranean lake with a giant splash, making any kind of attempt to repair it just a vague
dream.
Now I was surrounded by those hordes while lying on the bank of a rapidly flowing river of ice-cold glacier water.
Kalani and the brute of a Naga had disappeared into its depths with a scream and a whole barrage of flying spears and arrows.
Her stricken face was engraved on my mind and I knew without a doubt that that woman would try to come to my rescue if she
survived. But that was an if with a big question mark. I didn’t think she or the blue Naga male had survived all those spears
raining down on them.
The rest of the humans, including Vera and the two other blue Naga that had pulled us from the wreck, had disappeared
into the mountain. They had been cut off from Kalani and me by an avalanche of rocks. There was no rescue coming, hence my
third round with death. I was surrounded by spears and growling Naga with blackened, needle-sharp teeth, and glowing red
eyes. From what little I could gather since I woke up, these were the hostile ones who hated technology and anything foreign. I
was completely screwed.
Guess that execution had just been delayed a little, I thought fatalistically. I’d managed to drag myself a little up the river
bank when Kalani’s grip on me had slipped and she and the blue Naga had gone into the water. My feet were soaked but I
couldn’t feel that and it was the least of my worries right now.
“Come on! Get on with it!” I yelled at them, their circle was closing in on me, but they hadn’t made any stabby motions
yet. It was going to hurt, those black shimmering spear blades looked really sharp but also made of stone. Hadn’t I read once
that flint blades broke very easily? I was no stranger to pain, so I hoped they’d break all their freaking blades on me. I hoped it
was a huge pain in the ass to remake them.
One of them bared his sharp, black teeth and snapped them like he was some kind of snapping turtle. I snapped my own
teeth back at him, “Fuck you too!” He growled, raising his weapon and I thought, finally here it comes! Only the Naga next to
him grabbed his spear and hissed something. Furious arguing broke out among them, one after the other pitching in and
gesturing with their spear at me or some towering mountain rising into the sky nearby.
Suddenly, I thought they might not be set on killing me just yet. I wasn’t sure if that was an improvement on my situation or
not. Did they think that I could tell them how to find the others? They had to be pretty pissed that the rest had escaped, even if I
did think that Kalani and that big blue Naga had bitten it in that hail of spears and arrows a short while ago.
It looked to me like they were arguing over who was going to carry me and I really hoped it wasn’t going to be Mr.
Snapping Turtle. He looked murderous over being denied killing me. Eventually, one of the others groaned in defeat and leaned
down to scoop me up. I could have tried to fight at that point, the option briefly flashed through my mind. But what would I
achieve with it? Death most likely.
I might have faced death a few times before, we were old buddies at this point I reckoned, I still didn’t actually want to
die. So I held still as he hauled me over his shoulder and I didn’t fight when another one came forward and tightly bound my
wrist with rough, purple rope. I had to stifle an entirely out-of-place giggle at how silly purple rope was. It made sense given
all the purple plants out here, but it was still so strange.
Then they were finally moving, my prone form dangling over an uncomfortable, scaly shoulder. At least the sinuous
movements of their snake-like bodies meant there were no jarring motions as they moved. I counted that as a blessing, my
pelvis still felt plenty of sensation, and my upper legs had some too. I could feel the rough scales press into my skin, bordering
on the edge of pain. I imagined that the jarring stride of a two-legged creature carrying me would make that even worse.
I held my eyes wide open, tracing the route we took and making myself seek out any recognizable landmarks. If they didn’t
kill me now, I was resolved to figure out a way to make it out of here. I might not be able to walk, but I was resourceful and I
was stronger than I looked. They were going to underestimate me and when they did, I’d seize my chance. Just wait.
*
Krashe
Crossing my arms over my chest I stared down at the crew of Bitter Storm warriors that was working on the trebuchet I’d
designed. I felt a strange mixture of excited delight at seeing my creation built at the scale it was meant to be, and niggling
worry that building this machine was crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed.
It was the only way to get the upper hand over the Thunder Rock Clan and their walled village. If we wanted to take their
territory to help accommodate our growing numbers, this was the only option. That’s why I’d designed and built the thing, but it
felt a little too much like breaking a taboo. Wasn’t this a device, technology? Wasn’t this a machine we were forbidden to use
considering our teachings?
I rubbed my fist over my sternum at a familiar ache behind the bone when I thought of my mother. When she was alive, she
was the lorekeeper, the one that made our Clan toe that line. But she was the one who crossed it all the time, and I had always
felt that the Queen had directed our Clan better in her stead after she died.
When I’d proposed the giant catapult during a strategy meeting I had fully expected looks of shock and horror. I had
expected the Queen to shoot it down and warn me never to speak of such things again. I had only proposed it because the
Clan’s need for space was so dire. Our hunting grounds were running on empty, stomachs were rumbling, and younglings were
starving.
There had certainly been some looks of shock, but the Queen’s eyes had lit up with eagerness and she’d leaped on the
idea. Now the last one was almost finished and our first set was already stealthily being moved toward enemy territory for the
planned assault. My mind was in turmoil with all the conflicting thoughts and feelings running through me.
Was I proud to see one of my creations at true scale, more than just a tiny model I built in the privacy of my home? Or
horrified that my Clan was suddenly building a device I was certain my ancestors would have forbidden? The only thing I did
know for sure was that I wanted the hungry mouths to be fed, and for that, my Clan needed more territory.
I was in a foul mood by the time I returned to the Hearth Caves. The main passageway was crowded and smelled awful
which meant the latrine area was due for a refresh and it hadn’t happened yet. Nobody wanted to pull latrine duty and it
shouldn’t be my job to assign people to the task. All of the Queen’s advisors who were responsible wanted to curry favor with
the Clan, assigning people to a hated task was the last thing they aspired to.
This couldn’t go on like this. If there was one thing I remembered vividly from the lorekeeper stories it was the
importance of cleanliness. If nobody took care of the latrines we were all going to get horribly sick. Just because there was a
palpable thread of excitement running through the Hearth Caves, courtesy of the coming territory expansion, didn’t mean we
could forsake our duties to our current homes.
 “Aser! Where are you?” I roared when I passed from the passage into the cavernous halls where we made our home. My
second in command, a male recently assigned to the position by the Queen herself, found my side only a couple of coils of my
tail later. I didn’t care for the male who was a bit too much of a sycophant for my liking, but he was effective when I gave him
a task.
“Yes, Warlord?” he drawled in a sibilant hiss that was made more pronounced because he was missing several of his
upper front teeth. He hadn’t told me how he’d managed to lose his teeth, and I hadn’t asked, but I had a feeling it wasn’t from a
fight. The male was awfully violence-averse for the second in command to a warlord.
“Find some people to fix that stink, it’s time new latrine holes were dug,” I snarled, curling my lip at the male to let him
know just how angry I was at having to deal with this detail myself. The Queen should have someone fully take-charge of the
important jobs around the Hearth Caves, food storage, drinking water, rationing, and the latrines.
“Yes Sir, of course! But Sir, you should know…” Aser started to prattle. I was crossing through the central gathering place
which was ringed by as many homes as could be squeezed together. To one side much space was taken up by the extravagant
building that housed the Queen. It was busy, Naga coming and going as they carried the freshly crafted spears and ammunition
from the crafting area to the exit of the caves. Children were playing everywhere and the sad bleating of some of the cattle we
kept for their milk and fur added to the noise.
I saw far too many thin faces and it made something hot and angry churn deep in my belly. I had been warning the Clan
about this for years but it wasn’t until the first food stores had been emptied that the Queen saw fit to listen to my demands. We
needed more space for our always-expanding Clan, the biggest Clan in all the territories.
“Why aren’t those children in school?” I demanded of Aser when I spotted a few younglings too old to just be toddling
about at this time of day. Aser spluttered since I’d interrupted him in whatever inane thing he was trying to bring to my
attention.
“How would I know, Sir?” he said. When I turned my head and pierced him with a glare he let out a squeak of fear. Of
late, too often children were skipping school or kept out of it by their parents, which was even worse. Everyone should be
learning to read and write the ancient script, learn all the lore kept by our clan, and then apprentice with a craft specialist or
hunter. It worried me greatly that things were slipping and the Queen did nothing.
“But Sir! You should know that…” Aser tried again and I paused my rapid pace to pin him in place with a look. He knew
he shouldn’t be bothering with any of the sniveling things the Queen’s advisers wanted to tell me. That was his job, to listen to
their prattling so I didn’t have to. Nothing they said was ever helpful, the Queen just kept them around because she liked how
they praised her. She kept me around so shit actually got done, and that wouldn’t happen if her goons could bother me.
“Sir,” Aser dared to try yet again, which meant that whatever he was told to convey to me was serious enough for him to
risk my wrath. The last guy they had made my second hadn’t lasted more than a couple of weeks before I’d made him quit. Aser
had actually lasted the longest yet, because he was really good at not bothering me with the suck-ups’ complaints.
“What?” I snapped out, my voice thundering across the gathering place with such force that everyone fell silent to stare at
me. The two male warriors that had accompanied me back to the Hearth Caves quietly backed up and lowered their spears
toward Aser in warning. A whole crowd of red, yellow, or orange eyes peeked at me from whatever job or play they were
doing. I flicked out my tongue, drawing in the disgusting scent of too many bodies packed into these caves. My eyes narrowed
in derision at the many dirty faces I saw.
“A patrol encountered a sky-ship falling from the skies, they captured one of the abominations alive. The rest escaped!”
Aser hissed in a low voice, aiming now to keep the information between us instead of sharing the knowledge with the entire
cave. An admirable attempt but fruitless, I could see the nearest Naga shiver with excitement, tails twitching on the dirt-
streaked, stone tiles that covered this entire area.
“Where is it?” I demanded, willpower kept my own tail from twitching or the scales on my back from rattling. They had
captured a creature from the skies? I tried to recall the lore on such creatures but I only remembered that the skies meant
danger, nothing about any creature in particular. Curiosity was stronger than fear in this case. What would such a creature even
look like? Would it have a tail like me? Scales? Or fur like the tasty Arazel I liked to hunt?
My assistant pointed with a clawed hand without uttering another sound.
 Chapter 2
Naomi
My hip ached and phantom pains were tingling up from my knees through my thighs. I had a very limited ability to move
my hips since the accident, with no feeling at all from the knee down, and only intermittent sensation on my thighs. With braces
and walking canes, I could hobble around the house on good days, but usually, I just used my wheelchair. I had none of that here
to help me.
The bastards had even tied my ankles together and I was worried about the rough rope on my skin. I couldn’t tell if it was
too tight or not, I already had no sensation in my toes, and I couldn’t wiggle them to help circulation. I definitely knew they’d
tied my wrists too tightly, my fingers were all pins and needles and my skin was abraded.
The creepy asshole that had carried me here had dumped me onto the dirt floor in this dank, dark cave without ceremony.
They hadn’t bothered to tie me up any further, just locked a heavy wooden door on their way out and that was it. Nothing was
said, I was just dumped and abandoned. I was pretty sure that meant they were saving me up for something really bad.
Visions of being tossed into an active volcano as a virgin sacrifice marched across my brain. My mind had a sick sense of
humor some days; this wasn’t helping. These creepy snake people weren’t sacrificing me, I was clearly the dirt beneath their
feet. They wouldn’t want to toss me to their Volcano God.
My stomach rumbled, telling me it was empty and my bladder told me I really needed to go. I doubted a pee break or
dinner were in the cards for me. They hadn’t even left me with any kind of light. When they’d brought me in here, I’d had just
enough time to see that it was just a small dark room carved out of the rock, empty except for some broken crates and barrels.
Rolling to my belly, I dug my elbows into the dirt and pulled myself toward what I hoped were the remains of those
wooden crates. If I was lucky, there might be nails or something there, something sharp I could use to cut the ropes. They had
tied my hands at the front and I used my elbows and fingers as much as I could to pull myself along. Reaching out to run my
hands through the dirt with each pull to search for anything useful.
I hissed with excitement when I touched the first piece of wood, it felt solid and big. Maybe I could use that as a weapon
once I got myself out of these ties. Beyond the door I knew lay a giant cavern, lit with hundreds of fires and torches. Huts and
dwellings were built around a central hub, squeezed together so tightly that everything was a maze of tiny paths and giant fire
hazards.
When Vera had woken me from that stasis pod, accompanied by three blue Naga I had been a tad worried. They were big
and scaly and muscular. Each of those males looked like they could crush even fierce Kalani in their coils like it was nothing.
But there were only three of them and they had seemed nice enough, trying to get us out of that sinking space wreck and hurrying
us to safety.
Earlier, my captors had paraded me through that central hub before they tossed me in here. I’d come face to face with so
much hatred and anger that it still frightened me to hear the noises of their many voices beyond that door. I’d been spat on, my
hair had been yanked, and people had reached out and pinched my flesh. I had bruises on my arms to show for it, and I worried
about how bruised my legs might be since I couldn’t feel that. Without light, I couldn’t properly inspect my injuries, if I was
bleeding, that was bad.
When my fingers touched something cold, a surge of elation soared through me. Yes, that was it! Wriggling with my
extended fingers I managed to get a good grip on the sharp piece only to discover that it was a bent piece of metal, not exactly a
nail but it could still work. In the dark, I couldn’t tell what it had once been and now that I thought about it, these Naga seemed
a little too barbaric to have mastered metalworking.
I was desperately sawing at the rope around my wrist, not even bothering to pull my body into a more comfortable upright
position. That was how he found me when the door suddenly swung open and light spilled into the dark cave. Sprawled on the
ground, the metal between my palms. I couldn’t have been caught more red-handed than this.
The light that spilled through the open panel briefly blinded me. Forcing me to squint while my heart raced, my body
jerking backward from the surprise, causing me to roll to my side. I saw only a big outline of a pair of shoulders and a head at
first, huge and shadowed; clearly a male. Then he raised a hand, a lantern dangling from his clawed fingers and it illuminated
him.
A Naga like the others; red scales gleaming along his long, sinuous body. He was towering on the base of his thick tail and
gold shimmered along the edges of the scales on his shoulders and belly while the deep red slowly turned darker along his tail
toward the tip.
 He wore a leather belt and a weapon harness that crisscrossed his chest; a huge sword strapped with it to his back. That
alone already said he was different from the ones that had hauled me in here, they had only carried spears and bows. The
savage expression on his face clued me in on the major jerk vibes that clung to this guy.
So this is who they saved me for, their major asshole of a boss. Instantly, my mind filled with all kinds of images of being
interrogated by this guy. My eyes already scanning those belts on his hips to see if he was carrying pliers of some kind. The
fact that I couldn’t spot them wasn’t a relief; I was sure he’d find inventive ways to make me babble all kinds of things. Which
wouldn’t help because we didn’t speak the same language.
When he slithered further into the small cave room, he didn’t make a single noise. That explained why I hadn’t heard
anything until the door suddenly swung open. This guy was exactly what he looked like, a deadly predator, a stalker. I shoved
myself off the floor with my elbows and tightened my abs so I could get into a sitting position. If I had to face the bad boss, I
was going to do it sitting at least. Maybe he hadn’t seen that piece of metal yet, so I kept my fingers tucked together and hoped
that he wouldn’t notice.
The door shut behind him and no one else followed him in. I wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. If he was going
to torture me, I suppose I was happy nobody was there to witness it. It was bad enough that his face was actually kind of
appealing if I ignored the deep frown. With sharp cheekbones, a luscious dark red mouth, bright intelligent eyes, and long
tresses of red hair pulled back into a high ponytail. I saw strips of leather, beads, and even feathers decorating the strands.
It was just my luck to discover my interrogator, and probably my executioner, was kinda sexy. Which just went to show
that I had been cooped up in the house far too much before this happened. I couldn’t possibly find this monster appealing but
for some reason, I was kinda digging his savage appearance. It made absolutely zero sense. Although, hadn’t I read somewhere
that your fear wires in the brain could get crossed with arousal? Maybe I’d managed to find yet another way to be screwed up.
He slithered up to me until he rose high above me on his tail only inches from where my feet were sprawled. His
expression was like a thundercloud as he scrutinized me. I felt that dark red glare as it glided over my skin, running over my
body as he inspected every inch. I tightened my fists and hoped he wouldn’t notice the piece of metal.
Red eyes should be really freaky, but his were like the color of dark red wine. A deep ruby that felt sharp and intelligent
but not demonic. I was really kidding myself to imagine a hint of softness in those orbs too. There was just no way this
monstrous Naga had any softness to him at all.
When he swooped down toward me on his tail, a little girly squeak escaped my throat. Hovering over my body, his abs
and tail holding him nearly perpendicular along my legs. Heat pumped off him against my thighs and belly, his face suddenly far
too close to mine for comfort. My heart was racing again, my breathing growing shallow as I froze in place. What do you
know? I could be scared after all because I was definitely terrified right now.
He hadn’t made a noise yet so when he suddenly hissed, my skin pebbled with goosebumps. I flinched back a little and
nearly toppled over onto the sand-covered floor. “Look, I don’t know what you want from me. I’m just a girl, I don’t mean any
harm. I can’t even do much harm. Have you seen me?” the words tumbled from my mouth rapidly. An embarrassing output of
nervous prattling. Right then I desperately wished I could be more like Kalani. Brief as we’d know each other, I already knew
that she’d be standing up to this jerk like she’d done with that blue one.
His hand shot out so fast I had no time to react. His fingers curled around my bound wrists and that feeling incited a panic
in my mind that just took over. I fought, screeching in fear and anger as I tried to jerk my hands from his grip. It was all over
when he found that piece of metal and the bits of frayed rope I was hiding.
Toppling backward, he followed me down. A deep growl rumbling from his chest that just made me more determined to
fight. I don’t know why my stupid brain thought that fighting this guy was a smart idea but I was single-minded now.
When the sharp metal bit into the palm of my hand in the struggle, the sharp, metallic tang of my blood filled the air.
Instinctively, I tried to jerk the metal away from my skin and it caught on the rope. In a fluke, that turned out to be the final
straw; the rope tore and my hands were suddenly free. I was like a tiny angry kitten at that point, all instinct and no finesse.
Twisting my still rope-covered wrists away from his grip, I clenched one fist around the metal, and struck. I was prone on
my back, the giant Naga male above me. I shouldn’t have been able to tear my hands from his grip but I did; he was
underestimating me. The metal cut into my palm as I jabbed but I struck him solidly in his shoulder. The blow reverberated up
my arm but the sharp metal bit into his scales, drawing blood.
“Damn it!” the male snarled, his chest lighting up with savage slash marks and curls. Blood dribbled from the wound and I
pulled back my clenched fist to strike a second time, aiming for his neck. He caught my hand in his palm, the metal harmlessly
sliding between his fingers. I roared in response, almost matching his snarl in viciousness. Then he had me pinned to the
ground with both his fists.
I could writhe and struggle but I wasn’t moving an inch. “Let me go! I didn’t do anything! Don’t torture me! I don’t know
anything and you can’t even understand!” I rambled again but this time it was different, this time the male pinning me was
staring at my mouth with his wine-red eyes, tracking their movements. His mouth was pulled in a silent snarl, displaying a set
of very sharp fangs, top and bottom.
Pinned beneath his body, I could feel that he was keeping most of his upper body lifted off me by leaning on his hands
where they pinned my wrists. Along my hips, I felt the sensation of his torso tapering into that tail, pressed against me. I
couldn’t tell if his tail was draped over my legs beyond the upper slopes of my thighs but I knew it was heavy, crushing me into
the hard ground beneath me.
“Silence!” he hissed, blood still dripping from his shoulder onto the front of my shirt. It was a reminder that I had done
something. I had struck him with a weapon, but in my mind that was definitely self-defense, not that he’d see it that way. The
fact that I could understand what he said filtered through much slower to my panicked mind. Why the hell could I understand
that word?
Confusion took over, freezing me in place as I stared at his face. He had a square jaw with a single horn jutting from his
chin, a stark bone-white compared to the crimson colors that covered the rest of him. There was a more intense dusting of gold
along the edges of the scales along his cheekbones, and also along the nubbed texture that made up the brows over his eyes. So
alien, and so pretty too. I especially took note of the long lashes that framed his eyes.
“Are you done?” he demanded and I responded by giving him a small nod. Yeah, no fighting, it wasn’t like I could even
move an inch. “Good, don’t move.” He moved when I gave him another nod, taking the metal scrap from my bloody palm and
then sliding off my body, letting me go completely.
I struggled back upright with the help of my uninjured hand, clutching the other to my chest where my own blood mingled
with the bloodstains already there from his wound. He was tucking my improvised weapon into a pouch on his belt, not even
bothering to check out his own injury. He didn’t look like that cut bothered him much.
Reaching out with a hand he leaned in just enough to curl his fingers around my ankle. I couldn’t feel that but at the touch,
his chest and parts of his shoulders lit up again with those glowing slashes and swirls. I froze in place, watching for his next
move while he just dipped his chin down to look at his own chest.
When he did make a move, I couldn’t help but beg, “Please don’t hurt me!” The knife he pulled from a sheath at his hip
was a short, stone blade shimmering obsidian black. His eyes flicked up to mine, his expression completely unreadable. The
knife came down toward my ankles, I flinched but all that happened was the rope falling away. Then he dropped my feet and
they thunked down on the floor, his gaze following them with a confused expression.
I remained frozen, watching what he’d do next. So far, this interrogation wasn’t going as I expected at all. I wasn’t even
sure if he’d hurt me, I didn’t think so. We’d struggled but my wrists were sore from the rope, not his grip. I had definitely hurt
him, but he was acting like he didn’t even notice the dripping wound in his shoulder.
Now that we weren’t touching the glow on his chest faded again until it went out; the fallen lantern to my left the only light
in the room. As if he was conducting some kind of experiment, he raised one clawed finger and poked my calf. My leg rolled to
the left a little with the motion and at the touch, the marks started to glow again. “Mate…” he hissed.
My stomach dropped. Did he just say what I thought he said? Mate? Oh boy, did this guy think I was his mate now? What
the hell? Was that a step up or down from my previous situation? I wasn’t sure but I still didn’t like it. I was nobody’s mate, I
was my own person. Besides, I seriously doubted this monstrous warrior wanted to be stuck with me. A human, a creature that
the whole crowd of Naga beyond that door seemed to abhor.
“Oh no, I’m nobody’s mate. Let’s get that through your thick skull right away!” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I
shot him a glare. I wasn’t ready to get into another physical scuffle with him, but I didn’t want him to think I was some coward
he could push around. If these were my last moments, I wanted to be proud of myself as I lived them.
His fingers closed around my calf, his too-soft-looking mouth curling into a smirk that caught me by surprise. “I like your
fire.” Then he lifted my leg off the ground and dropped again. I winced but he caught my foot before it could thud to the floor
and get hurt this time. “You are paralyzed?” he demanded.
“Gee, what do you think?” I sassed, still glaring. I couldn’t believe that he’d done that, that was just wrong on so many
levels. He tilted his head at an angle, glancing along my body again, his eyes lingered far too long on my chest where blood had
stained my shirt. Then they centered on the apex of my thighs and I squirmed.
 Why did that damn look make my body tingle? He was just inspecting the goods, seeing how damaged I was. That wasn’t
attraction in his eyes, I was his captive. Everything about this was wrong. But I was suddenly flushed between my legs, my
folds far more sensitive than they normally ever were. Stockholm syndrome didn’t strike this fast, did it? I still thought he was
a total jerk, that couldn’t be it. My body was just getting some signals crossed.
“What a curious creature, you are…” he drawled. His deep voice was husky, a growly edge to his tones but he wasn’t
snarling at me now, he wasn’t angry. Okay, definitely an improvement then, if he was curious he wasn’t going to kill me. If he
thought I was his mate, he might not want to hurt me either. I could work with that, right?
I tried to picture myself as this suave seductress who could convince him to do anything. No way, I was a virgin who
hadn’t had more than a few clumsy kisses before I had my accident. After, I’d just been locked in the house, pretty much
confined because my family couldn’t pay for the treatment I needed to walk again and society on Earth these days was anything
but accommodating. My love life had been over before it ever began. I was not seductress material.
He moved up along my side, leaning into me. I didn’t want to show him that frightened me a little so I froze in place. His
long tail coiled along my legs, I could see that from the corner of my eyes but my focus was entirely on his face. He braced his
arms on either side of me, pressing in even closer.
Then he sniffed his oddly human-shaped nose. The tip brushed along my cheek then slid to the side toward my hairline
while he inhaled. “You smell good, female.” Goosebumps broke out all along my skin, my body trembling in response to the
warm breath ghosting along my skin.
“It’s Naomi, not female. Naomi!” I said because hell no, he wasn’t going to call me that. I refused. I had also read once
that making your abductor see you as a person was a good thing. I should be insisting on being called by my name, I should tell
him things about myself. That was supposed to make them less lightly to kill you, right?
“Nomy,” he murmured softly and then his tongue flicked out and he dragged split tips along my cheekbone. Holy shit. No!
Except my body seemed to burst into flames on the spot at that touch. I didn’t even know I could feel like that, like my blood
was too warm, racing through my veins away from that point of contact. I was in so much trouble. This was not good.
 Chapter 3
Krashe
Ducking out of the door, I slammed the portal shut behind my back with force. If I’d been in turmoil before, now my mind
felt like complete chaos. How could a tiny, pale, scaleless creature like her be my mate? How could a creature other than a
Naga be my mate? That went against everything our lore taught us.
But I couldn’t deny that Nomy was an attractive little thing. I liked how soft she was everywhere I touched her, her pale
colors made her bright blue eyes more noticeable, and the long yellow tresses were completely unique. When I remembered
that I’d caught her in the middle of an escape attempt, my mouth wanted to curl into a smile.
Then reality crashed down on me. She was unacceptable as a mate, the Clan would never accept a female such as her. Not
in the least because of what she was, even if she was Naga, they would cast her out because of her paralysis. My stomach
wanted to rebel at that thought, telling me just how deep the mating drive already had its hooks into me.
“I want six guards on this door. Nobody enters but me!” I barked at Aser who was still waiting for me. The two guards
already there shared a look between themselves and I knew what they were thinking. Six guards? For a puny little thing like
her? She was no threat. I wasn’t going to tell them that I wanted the guards there to keep any Bitter Storm members out. I had
seen the mottled bruises on her flesh, I’d heard the whispering in the Hearth Caves. If any Bitter Storm females got near her,
they would tear her to shreds without hesitation.
“Yes Sir, I’ll see to it myself,” Aser said in his lisping, ingratiating manner. “The Queen sent a runner to summon you,
Warlord.” He flapped a hand at a youngling hovering nearby. There were a dozen more hanging back a little further, no doubt
hoping to catch a glimpse of my prisoner. I bared my teeth at the lot and watched as they mimicked the move, at least half of
them baring teeth that were blackened and filed down to sharp needles. A practice that was becoming more and more popular
among the Clan.
When I closed my mouth, I flicked my tongue against my own still ivory-colored teeth. I didn’t need such vain practices to
make my foes scatter at my coils. The taste of my mate flooded my senses again when I did that and I had to wrest my body
back under control before anyone caught on. My cock ached inside my pouch, flushing as if she was right there, ready to let me
mount her.
“I’ll be back to continue my interrogations,” I said as I forced myself to move away from the door. I didn’t like leaving her
but I had no choice. My warriors had never disobeyed me, they wouldn’t start now. They had no reason to believe that their
leader had a twisted taste in females, a taste they could never understand.
Her taste was fading now and I tried to memorize each little note, each distinct flavor before it was completely gone. “Six
guards, nobody gets in but me,” I snarled at Aser over my shoulder. My spine tingled at the sight of the gap-toothed, placid
smile on his face as he nodded his head eagerly in response.
I forced my thoughts away from Nomy and her beautiful yellow hair when I followed the youngling back to the central
gathering place. I needed to keep my wits if I was going to meet the Queen, she was not the youngest anymore but her mind was
still sharp and her tongue even sharper.
Either she wanted to know about the prisoner or she wanted an update on our war effort. I tried to assure myself that that
was still the right course of action as I followed the messenger through the tight warren of paths in our overcrowded Heart
Cave. We had several ancillary caves spinning off this one where more of the Clan lived, but housing wasn’t the issue. Food
was.
I had only to look at the many sunken cheeks and hollow eyes to assure myself that we had no choice. If Bitter Storm
wanted to thrive and expand, it needed more territory to hunt in. We needed Thunder Rock’s verdant, rich hunting grounds.
There was too much barren rock and mountain in ours and not enough herds to feed over a thousand Naga.
When I passed the open doorway of a tiny hut with a Naga female cradling a baby inside it, my belly clenched. No, I could
not turn my back on that. But a niggling voice at the back of my head pointed out that that female would readily take part in
murdering my mate. My belly clenched even harder at that thought, murderous rage surging through my body. I had to fight the
impulse to strike out when the hapless Naga had not even done anything.
By the time the youngling had brought me to the palace I was simmering with rage. My fists clenched, my eyes shifting
from one face to another as I tried to decipher how big of a threat they were. They were everywhere, each adult member, even
the young ones past their third molting were a threat to Nomy.
 Bitter Storm had many good, strong warriors. The females were tough and fierce, and as battle-ready as any female. On
par with those of other Clans, I had surmised from the few talks I had had with the neutral Shaman that lived on the edge of our
territory. The young were already stronger than my female was, especially considering her partial paralysis. I could either pick
my mate or pick my Clan. I could not have both.
The youngling scampered off when I passed through the doors into the slightly smokey interior of the palace. Lanterns
dangled from the rafters, the ceiling soaring up inside covered by silky fabrics to make the place brightly colored and brightly
lit. I ignored the males and females draped on pillows beyond the entrance and crossed the intricately inlaid wooden floors to
the end of the space.
The Queen sat on a wooden, carved chair, ensconced in dozens of soft pillows to support her thick, voluptuous body. Like
some of the others present, the Queen was not one of the ones going hungry in the Clan, and it showed. It was a development
that had shown up in the past year, the Queen and her sycophants growing fat while the people starved. They chose to dress
themselves in open robes or wraps, displaying rich fabrics and jewels on their bodies.
It was part of why I’d pushed hard to expand our hunting grounds. If the Queen could not lead by example, if the Queen
would not find other ways to solve the hunger growing among our people, then I had to find a way. What better way than to take
what we needed from the Clans that flaunted the rules, that willingly endangered all Naga by tampering with Relics and
Technology?
As I came to a halt in front of the Queen’s throne, my gaze lingered on her protruding, pregnant belly. She called it the
sacred duty of our people to bear many sons and daughters, to grow our Clan ever larger so that we could ensure the safety of
our world. Once, I had agreed with that. More Warriors meant a better chance at survival, or at stopping disaster should one of
the other Clans cause it. But with our food shortage…
Her thick coils cascaded down the front of the throne onto the polished, beautiful floors. Two of my best warriors stood
guard in front of her. The face of Misra on the left tight and hostile, while Ackr looked uncomfortable. The latter’s expression
was probably courtesy of the Queen who was flicking the very tip of her tail against one of his coils. She was upset, we all
knew how to recognize those signs, and we all knew you’d rather not be there when she exploded.
“Ah my Warlord, finally you have come to grace my halls with your surly expression,” the Queen drawled when I rose
from my respectful bow in front of her throne. Her bright red eyes were tinged with the slightest hint of orange at their centers
causing them to look like starbursts. Only a few years ago I would have considered her the prettiest Naga female around. She
had been in her prime then, always moving, always active. That had changed over the last handful of years, now she was fat
and growing gray streaks in her thinning auburn tresses.
“You summoned me, my Queen?” I said, tempering the growly edge to my voice just enough not to sound like I was
snapping at her. Everyone knew I had a temper, my surly attitude and dour mood were well-known. It made me a good warlord,
everyone was ready to slither when I said so. Even the Queen was generally respectful of my opinions and aware that I was not
one of her sycophant suck-ups. I got away with my lack of manners because I did my job and I did it well.
The female leaned forward in her opulent chair, the gold chains around her neck clinking together. With a coy flick of her
head, her hair, shiny from scented oils, swung over her left shoulder. Ah, so she wasn’t in an angry mood, she was feeling
frisky. That was even worse and I couldn’t blame Ackr for looking so uncomfortable.
I might blame him a little for looking so damn relieved when she flicked the tip of her tail in my direction. I moved back
out of reach before she could touch me, the move disguised as just a casual resettling on my tail. If she wanted to touch me now,
she’d have to unroll her coils and make a very visible effort. She wouldn’t be that blatant with this many eyes on us.
“You have news? Are we ready to set our plans in motion?” she drawled, her eyes narrowing at me. Shrewd woman
would know I had avoided that flicking tip. She rose from her throne with slow, lumbering movements fitting with her bulk that
nearly entirely disguised the swelling of her pregnant belly.
The words she spoke with a loud, carrying voice and around me the courtesans lying about on the pillows eagerly leaned
in to hear what I had to say. Feeling like I was on familiar ground again for the first time in hours, I bared my teeth in a grin.
“Everything is moving according to plan, my Queen. Another day and the last trebuchet will be finished. Three days and we
will stand on the field of battle, victorious!”
My words were met with eager shouting and clapping, the warriors roaring as they slapped their chests. The Queen settled
back down on her pillows with a happy smile stretching across her once-beautiful features. “Well done, Krashe…” she
drawled when the boisterous noises died down. She ran her hand over the swell of her bare breast, already thickened in
preparation of feeding her coming youngling. “I should reward you for your work.”
 The crowd, of which at least half were her own offspring, was completely silent as the Queen unspooled her coils and
started winding them around me. To move away now would be a grave insult but I could not allow this to continue either. I
hadn’t wanted to coil with her in years, and now that I had met Nomy, the thought made nausea rise in my belly.
I needed to distract her but the only thought that came to mind was to mention the prisoner; it would put an end to this
immediately. I couldn’t get those words to cross my lips, it would put my mate in direct danger. It was already a miracle that
the Queen had not heard of Nomy’s presence yet. She was unpredictable, if she knew, she might demand to see the prisoner, or
she might not care at all.
“It is reward enough to serve the Clan, to find food for our hungry younglings,” I rasped out. Tapping my fist over my chest
I added with a growl, “I serve them. Now I must leave to finish the work. Until then I am not deserving of any reward.” I
dipped into a quick, slightly disrespectful bow and shook myself free of her insidious grasp under the collective sound of many
Naga gasping in shock.
While the Queen threw back her head and started laughing, amused rather than insulted, I exited the palace. Glaring at
sycophants that seemed to get in my way as I tried to leave just reinforced my reputation. I was the only one in the entire Clan
that stood up to our ruler, and she liked it.
As soon as I was free of the palace and the stifling sweet scents that clung there, I headed for my private quarters. My
home was the same as the one I’d grown up in, a small wooden building set up against the back wall of the Hearth Caves. It
was a spot away from the wells of water and not too far from a latrine tunnel. Not exactly prime real estate and because of that
I had more space than most, and also more privacy.
Inside my home, I locked the door behind me with the mechanism I’d made for it, and then I stripped myself of my
weapons and belts and rushed for the barrel with water I kept on hand. With rough motions I started cleaning my coils, eager to
rid myself of the sensations of the Queen’s touch. My thoughts spun as I contemplated my mate.
She changed everything. She challenged everything I thought I knew was right. She was found near a sky-ship, she came
from beyond the stars, and I only knew what the lore said on that. She was supposed to be dangerous, a threat to our existence.
A threat that had once played an integral role in the destruction of our entire society.
Then I pictured Nomy’s small body, her luminous blue eyes, and her so delicate and soft flesh. She was no threat, she had
fought me at her best and all she’d done was nick my scales by sheer luck. The harm to her own hand had been far greater than
the harm she had managed to do to me. No, she wasn’t a danger to my people. The only danger was to my sanity; I already
craved to return to her side and wallow in her scent again.
Just remembering her made my cock stir in its pouch and I pressed the base of my hand to the slit to keep it from extruding.
Nothing had ever stirred me the way she did. Mates that ignited the markings on our bodies were almost unheard of, a gift
mostly remembered from the past. I knew my parents had been such mates, but they had been the last pairing like that in our
Clan.
Mostly, the Queen picked males for the females to produce a youngling. Pairings that remained together to rear those young
were uncommon. Usually a female weaned her youngling at the start of the first molting, and then handed it to the father to raise
further. Younglings were raised by combined effort, in groupings that often remained brothers or sisters for life.
My mind flashed to my own upbringing. My mother and father had cared for me till my third molting, so I had no ties to
other younglings as though they were my siblings. I was the only child they had, and they often journeyed beyond Bitter Storm
territory, traveling everywhere with me. I had seen the insides of many ancestor caves and buildings, seen the marvels of
technologies that my mother was supposed to report and destroy. And all she did was study them.
I hissed in anger. My mother had betrayed the Clan and our teachings, teachings she was supposed to uphold. And the
Queen, then just one of many princesses, had been her closest friend. It was why I’d thrown my loyalty in her camp when the
Queen, who was just called Lasra at the time, had taken out the previous Queen and assumed the throne.
Now I tried to push aside my anger at what my mother had done and focus on what I needed to discover. Lasra had taken
on the lorekeeper role when my mother had died in a scuffle with another female. As her closest friend that had made sense, but
I knew that my father had hidden all of my mother’s things from her before he’d vanished in the wilds a few years later. I
needed to find those items and search for lore about the creatures from beyond the stars. I needed to know what danger they
possessed. If the prisoner was any indication, it couldn’t be a physical threat.
Tossing the wet rag in a basket I cast my eyes about my home. I had some vague ideas of where my father would have
hidden my mother’s lorekeeping things. I suppose I should be happy with myself that I had never given to the impulse to search
for them yet so I could destroy them or hand them over to the Queen.
I had to arm myself with all the lore I could find before I faced my mate again.
 Chapter 4
Naomi
I was confused. Really, really confused. It didn’t seem to me like my captor wanted to kill me or even harm me. I just had
to glance down at the bandages wrapped around the injured palm of my hand to know this. And when I’d kept insisting on my
name he had even given me his, shocking me to hell and back when he just barked out: Crash.
Who the heck called their kid Crash? That seemed weird but I had to remind myself that though he spoke English to me, the
rest of his Clan didn’t. They spoke in weird hissing, sibilant tones that I couldn’t even begin to pick apart as a language. In his
own language, Crash probably didn’t mean what it did. Besides, he pronounced it with a hard ‘k’ and a hiss at the end.
Krashe…
Even more confusing, how had he learned to speak English? That made about as little sense as his proclamation that I was
his mate. He hadn’t tied me back up either, I was now free to move around this small chamber. He’d also left his lantern so I
had light to see by. See, confusing. Why was he treating me like that but still keeping me locked up in here?
I didn’t think the rest of the Naga outside in that big cave were going to be nearly as friendly as he had been. Actually, he
hadn’t been all that friendly either, manhandling me, growling and snapping. He also hadn’t asked any questions, just sniffed my
hair and licked my skin, and then he’d left.
I touched my uninjured palm to the side of my neck where he’d drawn that split tongue along my skin. I still vividly
recalled the sensation of those sharp fangs bracketing my throat when he opened his mouth over my flesh. For a long second I
had expected him to bite down and rip into me. Flirting with that kind of danger had made my body sing and I was thoroughly
disgusted with myself about it. I couldn’t actually like that kind of thing, could I? That wasn’t normal… Was it?
Gah! I wasn’t even sure about that, considering how limited my experiences were when it came to romance and sex. I had
barely left home for years… I barely knew how to say hi to new people, how did I deal with this?
Breathing out with a huff, I contemplated my options. I was untied, but I was pretty sure he’d only done that because he
knew I couldn’t get out anyway. Just remembering how I’d stabbed him with that piece of metal made me growl angrily. He
hadn’t even noticed. How did I fight a creature like that? Especially when my body seemed to like tussling with him. I couldn’t
trust my own feelings and that really sucked.
Sitting around on my ass wasn’t going to solve anything, and now that I was free to move around, and I had light, I could at
least explore. I still needed to pee too so the first order of business was to pick a secluded corner and do that. Relieved, I
carefully picked my way across the rough stone floor to reach the door. I was hoping to find a crack I could peer out of; I
needed to figure out what the situation was on the other side.
Holding my breath, I pressed my ear against the panel and listened. There was the constant din of many voices, the squeals
of children and animals, and the sound of hammering. Beneath all that noise I thought I could hear the sound of scales sliding
along the ground. Were those the sounds of guards standing outside this door?
I was pretty sure Krashe had yelled at people right outside my prison when he left. But he’d spoken in his own language so
I had no idea what he’d said. Locating a crack just big enough to peek through, I leaned in and had a look. Oh boy. I was pretty
sure I could see the tails of at least two Naga, no make that three. How many were out there?
There was no way I could get this door open and sneak past that many without being noticed, and where would I go if I did
get out? I couldn’t cross an entire cave village without being seen. I shivered when I remembered passing through the first time.
So many hate-filled looks, fear on the faces of the younger ones, and the pinching and stone tossing… Not fun.
I leaned over to run my hands along my legs, checking again that there was no serious damage I needed to worry about.
Bruises as far as my inspection could tell, but no cuts. I could pull my legs to my chest in a good bend and rotate my ankles by
hand. Everything seemed in working order and the pins and needles feeling was fading from around the thigh area once more.
Good, but I would feel much better if I could rest up, I just didn’t think I’d feel safe enough in here to close my eyes for a bit.
The thought had only just crossed my mind when excited voices erupted just outside my cell. Male voices rumbling and
hissing, a higher pitched one silencing them all with a sharp command. That couldn’t be good, that meant it wasn’t Krashe out
there. Not that I trusted him not to turn mean on me, but at least I knew him and he hadn’t harmed me yet.
With a sinking feeling, I used my hands to drag myself away from the door in a backward scramble. I hated how
vulnerable I was right now, if I had my wheelchair, at least I’d be more mobile… If I had one of my crutches here, I could use
that as a makeshift weapon. The piece of wood I had been hopeful about earlier had crumbled to dust in my hands.
 I braced myself for danger when the door swung open, fixing a fierce glare on my face that I hoped would make people
think I wasn’t scared. Now that the immediateness of that deadly situation on the river bank had worn off, I was finding it much
easier to be frightened. They didn’t deserve to know that.
There was a female flanked by two males at the door, and my appearance was a shock to them. I saw their eyes grow
wide, saw how they exchanged glances and rapid words between them. The female jeered and pointed as she indicated my
legs. Then she wriggled the lithe tip of her deep red tail and allowed the move to shimmy up her body in a sensuous manner. It
drew the eyes of everyone around, making it clear just how lacking I was to them. Look, she has stupid useless legs and no tail!
She can’t do this, can’t she?”
As soon as show and tell was done, the two males reached down and grabbed me by the arms. Instinctively I tried to yank
myself free from their grips but their fingers digging into my biceps were too tight. I was hauled from my cell and dragged after
the female back into the extremely crowded village. “Let go! Where are you taking me?” I demanded to know but I was ignored
by my captors this time.
Not so much by the laughing, pointing crowd of young Naga that had apparently gathered on the pathway next to my prison.
I saw far too many glowing red or orange eyes, a whole tangle of tails as they piled together to get the best look. Pointing
fingers, blackened teeth as sharp as needles, and that was soon followed by the first rock sailing through the air. It hit me in the
small of my back and I yelped in pain.
At least the narrow paths the two dragged me into, led by the callous female, made it impossible for them to follow. I
caught stares as we traversed the maze but no more rocks until I was dragged up the steps and into a big wooden building that
took center stage on the edge of the clearing at the center of the cave village.
I didn’t like the look of that building. It had to be important if they’d taken the effort to erect such a tall house. It looked as
big as a barn, with a sweeping roof and carved end beams that stuck out for dramatic and decorative effect. Light spilled warm
and bright from the open doorway and beyond the portal, I saw an abundance of colored fabrics that draped the interior.
I was so shocked to discover proper textiles in this place that for a moment that was all I could look at. Those looked like
silk and satin, shimmering in jewel-bright colors against a backdrop of the deepest of purple wood. There was no doubt in my
mind that the fabrics represented wealth, flaunted for all to see.
Then my eyes took in the many coiled bodies on the pillows that covered much of an intricately inlaid wooden floor.
Dozens of them, maybe even fifty Naga in total. Some young, some old, and nearly all of them were women. What was most
eye-catching, was the figure sitting on an elaborately carved wooden throne at the back of the rectangular-shaped room.
A Naga woman with graying hair and a strangely sallow cast to her gleaming scales. Like the deep red had lost some of its
color from lack of sunlight or something. Did she ever leave this place? She was also the first Naga I had seen who was
clearly overweight, her coils extremely thick and heavy. She reminded me of an anaconda, instead of a viper like Krashe did.
Led by the woman who had brought me here, I was dragged through the room to the sounds of horrified gasps and pointing
fingers. Straight to the slightly raised stage on which the throne was perched. There I was tossed to the floor in a heap. When I
struggled to raise myself on my hands, two big males with spears crossed them in front of the Queen as if they wanted to block
my access to her. They didn’t have to worry, I didn’t want to get any closer.
Now what? What were they planning with me? And where was Krashe? I instantly hated myself for thinking about him. He
wasn’t the good guy, he was one of my captors just like the rest of them. It was definitely Stockholm syndrome talking to think
he might help me in here. I had zero evidence to base such an assumption on other than that he’d been sorta nice to me so far.
And ‘nice’ really was a stretch to describe how he’d treated me.
The Naga on the throne had risen to a more upright position and her belly was protruding over her hips and coiled tail.
Talking with hisses and growls, her voice held this captivating, insidious tone that made me want to pay attention even if I
couldn’t understand a word she said. Everyone in the room seemed to be her eager audience, listening as she talked and
pointed at me. Sneering along with her when she bared dainty fangs my way.
I was pretty sure she was declaring my inferiority and announcing my coming execution. Even more sure when the crowd
started to cheer and clap their clawed hands together. Not again… Were they going to drag me out into that clearing and do it
right away? I wet my dry lips at the thought, racking my brain to see if I remembered anything like gallows or a guillotine out
there.
The one in charge had gotten closer, rising all the way on her tail and coming to the edge of her raised platform. The two
guards that had already been there were clenching their jaws, glaring down at me to warn me not to do anything. While the two
that had brought me here had pulled swords and aimed them at my neck.
 “Seriously?” I demanded half under my breath. “Like I’m a threat to any of you.” I rolled my eyes at the fat lady Naga
towering over me. Without a weapon, I wouldn’t be a match for her in any way, even if she was pregnant. She was twice my
size at the torso and her tail was triple my length. As soon as she wrapped me in her coils it would be all over.
She tilted her head down to shoot me a glare, probably because I had talked right through her impassioned speech. Her
eyes were freaky, an orange starburst circling her pupil that faded to dark red on the edges of her iris. Her glare was
formidable too, and I fought the urge to roll my shoulders into a hunch. No, I wasn’t going to let her see how much she
intimidated me. I didn’t want to spend my last hours alive cowering in fear, I wanted to go out feeling proud of myself.
A commotion behind me had her snap her eyes up and I twisted to have a look. Relief surged through me that I tried very
hard to squash when Krashe burst through the door and into the throne room. He wasn’t saying much, just looked fierce. When
he pushed through the two guards with their swords aimed my way he sent them both tumbling back into the crowd that filled
the room.
I had only a brief second to compare his huge shoulders to those of his male brethren and conclude that he was definitely
the biggest. Then I was suddenly wrapped up in several coils of his tail, my arms pinned to my sides. “This is dangerous!” he
said, “Don’t you know what she is?”
He wasn’t dressed the same way as before. Or rather, he was actually wearing clothing this time, as opposed to just a few
belts that crossed his upper body. A robe was tied around his waist, sleeves covering his arms all the way down to his wrists.
The black fabric was molded to his flesh, not leaving anything to the imagination and it made him look more threatening. That
could also be due to the firm collar that stood up around his neck, kinda like a certain count.
Stuck in the thick coils of his tail, I was suddenly flushed with his warmth. I hadn’t even realized that I’d gotten cold, but
my skin felt icy against his warm scales. Had I gone from the frying pan into the fire, or was he actually here to help me? My
mind was telling me one thing, but my body definitely thought Krashe was here to rescue me. My flesh was heating, my nipples
growing hard and achy.
“She is from the heavens! She came with a sky-ship to Serant. Are you all fools? Parading her in here, endangering the
Queen?” Krashe roared rather than spoke. Everyone inside the building cowered and trembled beneath his rage. The guards
when they crawled back out of the crowd looked all shame-faced and shocked.
I was raging inside but I bit my tongue this time. I couldn’t believe he was saying those things. As if I was the danger here,
the threat. That was just ridiculous. And why the hell was he saying all that in English? Why did it seem like everyone could
understand his words? That made no sense at all.
The pregnant Naga lady was watching his display with a vague smile on her face. It felt sharp and mean, conniving, and I
didn’t trust it one bit. “Aw, my sweet Warlord. What would I do without you? It looks so tiny and helpless… Surely, it is no
danger to me?” Her voice was a sibilant drawl that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. English again, her
words making perfect sense… Had I lost my mind? Why could I understand her?
Krashe’s coils around me tightened as he moved me closer to where he rose above me on the base of his tail. He had his
giant sword strapped to his back just like before, I could see the edge of the black blade gleaming at the side of his hip where it
stuck out. He hadn’t glanced at me at all, just held me tight in the loops of his tail so I couldn’t go anywhere. I should have felt
trapped, but I felt safe instead. See, I was completely deranged at this point.
“And what if she has mind gifts? Powers? What if this weak appearance is just a ruse? You are our Queen, we cannot risk
you! We are on the eve of war, let that be your focus while I take care of this abomination!” Ouch, abomination huh? Was that
what I was to them? No wonder they looked at me with so much hate. What could have possibly happened to them that made
them fear creatures from ‘sky-ships’ the way they did? The blue Naga I’d met when I’d first woken up on the planet didn’t have
any such issues…
At least I could take satisfaction in seeing the smug Queen’s face grow paler along the cheeks, her eyes growing round
with worry. “You are right, I should consult the lorebooks to discover what this creature is before we interact with it.” Then
her eyes narrowed on me, on my head and shoulders which were pretty much the only part of me visible beyond Krashe’s
coiled tail. “Maybe we should just kill it right now. What do you think?”
“Consult your lore, my Queen,” Krashe rasped back, leaning his body closer to her over the crossed bars of the spears her
personal guard were holding. “We must make sure we do it right on the first try,” he hissed at her in a conspiratorial whisper.
His words made her eyes narrow at me even further while she nodded. My warlord captor didn’t waste another moment, he
turned around, snarling at the crowd behind us, and the curious faces leaning in through the open door.
His tail moved and then I was freed from his coils but instantly yanked up in his arms, cradled tightly against his chest.
One arm pinned my arms to his body tightly, my legs dangling down without ceremony. He moved fast, speeding from the
Queen’s throne room while people had to dive out of his path or risk getting crushed. I was pretty sure most were as scared of
being touched by me as they were of being in his warpath.
 Chapter 5
Krashe
We were followed all the way to my home, warriors and curious younglings tracing along my path or taking parallel
roads. I glared or hissed out warnings if anyone dared to come too close and my reputation did the rest. Let them think I was
warning them away from a grave danger as I’d blustered inside the palace. Let them think Nomy was a threat, I knew better.
Once I shouldered open the door to my home I ducked inside and with a sigh of relief closed the portal between all those
prying eyes and my mate. It was dark inside my dwelling but enough light came from the banked embers in my hearth to let me
see her face. Such a pale circle of round curves and soft, defenseless skin. She was so very different from a Naga female and
after my research this afternoon, I was also convinced that she was as harmless as a babe.
Well, maybe not quite that harmless I conceded. She was lethal to my senses, but I was also certain that was the mate
bond talking. Her brows were these soft slashes of short little hairs and that intrigued me. When she made expressions they
moved so much it was baffling. I wanted to keep her soft, slight form curled in my arms; so I did even if that made lighting the
lanterns a little more difficult.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asked softly, her voice pitched low so it didn’t carry but there was a hesitancy to
that hadn’t been there before. She sounded worried and scared, not full of fire like when she’d attacked me in that holding cell.
I didn’t like that but I also understood it, if I was small and weak like her, I would probably be scared too… I just couldn’t
really picture it, I had always been stronger than my peers.
“I don’t know,” I told her truthfully while I settled down on the edge of my nest, the strange female from the sky-ship
cradled in my lap. My arms were absolutely refusing to let go of her and she wasn’t trying to get away this time. She was a
conundrum and a huge problem. I couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to do now.
“You don’t know?” she said incredulously. “What is that supposed to mean? You’re the one holding me captive… You’re
the one with all the choices here!” Ah, there was that fire. Her blue eyes were sparkling at me, sharp as chips of ice. Her soft,
full lips pressed into this thin line as she glared.
I rolled a shoulder and looked away, casting my eyes about my small home. It was a mess in here, my desk covered in
several of my projects. Wood chips and shavings cluttered the floor beneath the desk and the rack against the wall was
lopsided, most of my scrolls and books stacked haphazardly or just piled on the floor and desk. The only things I’d kept neat
were my armor stand and the weapons hanging from my walls.
Then I snorted in frustration, why was I even worried about that? And though it felt like I was pulling stone chips from a
wound, I still pried my arms apart and pushed my mate off my lap and into my nest. She went with a yelp as she tumbled
backward, the long pale strands of her hair fanning out across my furs. My cock instantly stirred in my pouch, the tips writhing
against the slit as they swelled.
I spun away from the far too tempting sight of all that softness in my own nest, mingling with my scent. She was talking to
my back, her tone angry and accusatory but without touching her, all I heard was melodic tones drawn together into endless
singsong strings I couldn’t decipher. The temptation to curl the tip of my tail around her wrist or ankle was great but I
refrained.
The chest I’d dug up earlier beneath the loose flagstone in front of the hearth was where I’d left it. I approached slowly,
raising myself higher on my tail to peer inside it as though I expected a Rakworm to leap from it at any moment.
I’d already picked up the lorebook that had been at the top and read through the entries about the sky-ships. A lot of it
didn’t make any sense to me; I was no lorekeeper, trained to interpret these texts. I’d read enough to discover that our ancestors
had been the ones that built sky-ships at one point. What they’d encountered among the stars had taken them captive, but the
descriptions of the creatures that had done that… they didn’t match with my mate.
I glanced from the small chest back to my mate and discovered that she’d quieted down and was just staring at me. She
had her arms curled around her chest, clutching herself. Her curiously soft and pale skin was pebbled with many little bumps.
Was she cold? I didn’t even think about it, just picked up the fire poker with my tail and stirred up the coals in the hearth. In
seconds I had fed several peat blocks to the fire and a good blaze started heating up the room.
“Oh…” she sighed, leaning over the edge of my nest, arms crossed on the edge while she peered around my coils into the
chest with my mother’s things. “Whatsthat?” she singsonged at me. I ignored her question, which I understood from context
even if her words made no sense right now. Untying the sash on my robe, I yanked it from my shoulders with a huff, already
getting too warm in front of the blaze I’d created.
 “Come on, tell me what that is?” Nomy demanded, her words suddenly filtering through my mind with total clarity. Her
dainty little hand had reached out and daringly, she’d grasped the tip of my tail, clenching it in her tiny fist with a determined
frown aimed my way. My whole body reacted to that little touch, sending heat coursing through my veins, sensation arrowing
directly for my far too eager cock.
The mating sigils that covered my chest and shoulders started to glow, lighting up my scales with lines of light. “My
mother’s lorekeeper tools,” I growled at her, flicking the tip of my tail gently to see if that would make her let go. She squeezed
harder, pinching my scales. I was impressed, that tiny fist had a surprising amount of power.
She leaned even further over the edge of the nest, her belly now curling over the raised lip. If she leaned out any further
she’d topple out of my bed. I coiled the end of my tail up, supporting her shoulder, this time making sure her grip didn’t
dislodge. “That looks like a datapad… And that… is that a holographic picture frame?”
Though my mind was now deciphering her words correctly, they still did not make any sense. It looked like she was
pointing at the crystal square lying on top of more of the lorebooks. Picking it up I held it out to her, offering her the strange
stone with a tight feeling in my chest. My rational mind warned me that I should not be giving her a relic I didn’t understand.
What if it was a weapon? But I was handing it over anyway.
Her small fingers brushed along my scales when she picked the square stone from my palm, her blue eyes avid and curious
as she turned it this way and that for a better look. Then she gave me a triumphant little grin that made my chest grow warm. It
was like we were sharing a little secret, sharing something only the two of us knew about.
With a flick of her thumb along one side of the square, light shimmered into a shape above it. Startled, I reared back, my
hand going for the knife strapped to my hip. Then I realized that the light had resolved itself into an image. Two Naga, one from
Thunder Rock and one from Copper Tooth. They had their arms slung around each other’s shoulders and were grinning happily
at us.
Impossible. While Thunder Rock and Copper Tooth traded with each other, two hunters would never share such close
comradery together. The Clans all functioned separately, there were uneasy truces and trade relationships but that was all.
“It’s just a picture. Look there’s a space shuttle in the background. Where did you get this?” my mate said curiously. She
dropped her grip on my tail to point at the shape of a sky-ship floating above the heads of the males in the image. My belly
churned. This was an old image, an image of the past.
I wanted to slap the magical square from her fingers and crush it between my coils. Such images shouldn’t exist, this was a
memory from the past, warning us that sky-ships were bad news. I started to reach for it when she rubbed her fingers along the
sides of the square stone and the image changed. A view of a vast sprawling city of the ancestors, buildings pointing like
accusing fingers into the sky. Then it changed again, one after the other showing snapshots of the past.
“No!” I growled. “Enough!” I snarled, curling my tail up her arm so she heard my words. Her startled eyes raised to my
face, a hint of fear making the deep blue of her eyes seem liquid. I didn’t think she meant to do it, but her fist squeezed around
the crystal square in reflex and the image changed again.
This was no image of the past and a shocked whimper slipped from my throat before I could rein it in—my mother,
laughing at me, her shimmering red scales tipped with gold, her hair in intricate braids piled on her head. She had her arms
curled around a youngling who was displaying his tiny fangs in a wide grin. The image made it look like Vaishe was looking
right at me, her dark red eyes piercing me straight to the soul.
My mate froze in place, her clever eyes darting from my face to the image and back again. Then they grew softer. “Oh,
that’s your mom, isn’t it? Is that you when you were little? I can’t believe you actually looked cute at one point…” She opened
her palm against the coil of my tail I had wrapped around her arm and rubbed her fingers along my scales.
It felt like I unraveled from that spot, spooling out into ribbons that reshaped into myself, but different. Yeah, that was my
mother, Vaishe. That was me before my third molting, just a little scrap of a youngling. I looked so happy. I couldn’t remember
ever smiling like that.
I felt like snarling, I felt like picking up that treacherous square and throwing it into the fire. How could it contain such
traitorous images? Was this put here to make me lose my resolve? To test it? I couldn’t believe that. My eyes lingered on the
expression on my mother’s face, the hint of something soft and vulnerable in it.
“Make it go away!” I snapped, too torn up by seeing this to stand looking at it for another moment. Nomy flinched in the
grip of my tail but the image winked out almost immediately afterward. Her eyes were wide when she looked at what was no
doubt a fierce glare on my own.
 “Sensitive, I guess?” she murmured, and it was the open expression, the sort of softness in her eyes that mirrored my
mother’s expression that made me crack. Another change, another chink in my armor, the carefully constructed views I had of
the world and what was right and wrong. I felt backed into a corner, trapped, with only one way out and it went against
everything I’d believed in my entire adult life.
*
Naomi
Everything was quiet inside the small, brightly lit little home. The fire was blazing, which meant I was warm for the first
time since I’d been brought to these caves. I was sitting on a soft bed, piled with thick, even softer furs. I’d been given a bowl
of water to drink, and now something was simmering in a pot over the fire.
It felt more like I was a guest in Krashe’s home than his prisoner. He hadn’t tied me up, he hadn’t locked me in a cage or
even told me to stay put. He was ignoring me right now, but I could deal with that. It gave me time to study my surroundings and
rest a little. It was like I could finally relax, and that usually brought along a dissolving of tension in my body. Which, contrary
to what it should sound like, often brought along cramps and pains.
My shoulders ached from how I’d been pulling myself along the ground, my hips were sore as well. The many bruises that
covered me were letting me know they existed by throbbing or aching whenever I moved. On top of that, cramps were
spasming in my calves, making them grow into hard, tight knots that I could feel with my hands. The warm food would help,
and a good night of sleep would help even more, but I was starting to dread more days like this. It was frustrating to be without
the aids that had made my life on Earth easier.
At least, I had to admit that it was nice to be able to dread the coming days. That meant I wasn’t fearing imminent death
right now, which was a big improvement over a few hours ago. I had to fight a smile that wanted to spread over my face when I
watched Krashe puttering around in his home. I had been right, he had come to rescue me from the Queen of his Clan. Now
why would he do that?
Krashe’s home wasn’t big, just a single room. But it was divided into several sections depending on what he used them
for. The round bed was in an alcove to one side. A big barrel next to it that kind of also functioned as a nightstand. Weapons
hung from the windowless walls, but diamond-shaped cubbyholes filled up one entire side of this home too. In them were
leather-bound books, clay or stone tablets, and rolled-up scrolls. A huge workbench lined the wall beneath those shelves, and
on it were several woodworking projects. That included what looked like a miniature trebuchet, which appeared fully
functional.
A tall wooden stand was against one wall, with a leather type of cuirass on it, leather pauldrons, and vambraces. An
armor stand for the Warlord. But secretly, this warlord was a bit of a scholar too, from the looks of it. I liked that. It was like
by being in his home, I got to see the secret side of him, the brainy part that he didn’t show to the rest of his Clan. I was
probably mistaken about it, but still.
My eyes went to the dark gray flagstone, a heavy, hand-carved thing, that now hid the chest with the holographic picture
frame. I was pretty sure I’d seen several stacks of datapads inside that thing, not exactly a design I was familiar with, but close
enough that I recognized them for their purpose.
How was it possible for there to be technology here? Nothing I’d seen so far had indicated any kind of technological
advancement. They lived in the freaking Stone Age; even Krashe’s sword was made of black stone. The blue Naga that had
first pulled me and the others from the shuttle wreck hadn’t looked any more advanced either.
I couldn’t deny the evidence. The holo picture frame showed me images of high-tech cities, their skies swarming with
flying vehicles. That was proof enough. Krashe’s civilization had collapsed and regressed back into the Stone Age. Not so long
ago, or that tech wouldn’t be functioning, his people had walked this planet, able to fly to the stars.
Would he let me have another look at those things? I was dying to find out what else was in that box. If I knew more about
his people, maybe I could better understand why his Clan seemed to hate me so much. Krashe wouldn’t explain, or maybe he
just couldn’t understand my questions. I was starting to suspect that we could only speak each other’s language when we
touched.
Right now, he was rumbling things to himself under his breath as he cleaned up his workbench, putting away projects, and
straightening his bookshelf. It was all hisses and growls, sibilant tones I could not decipher into words. He ignored anything I
said to him, and the marks on his body that glowed only ever appeared when we touched.
I shuddered, was that because he thought we were mates? That’s what it was like in the romance novels I liked to devour.
Was there credence to his words? Were we really meant to be? Or was that just my wishful thinking? It certainly would work in
my favor if Krashe was my fated mate, that would mean he’d protect me, care for me.
My eyes lingered on the broad shape of his bare shoulders. There were sharper ridges on the edges, making them seem
even wider. His scales were the prettiest shade of red, hinting at gold on the edges, but his tail darkened dramatically toward
the tapered tip; nearly turning black.
His hair was really long too, pinned up high on his head in a ponytail but draping down all the way to the small of his
back. The luscious strands were twined with little braids, beads, and strings with feathers on them. The feathers were shiny
black and looked like they might just be stone knives instead of real feathers.
Truth was, he was pretty sexy, if I pretended he had legs instead of a tail I would have called him hot. And the tail… it
was growing on me too. I liked how it made his movements all look graceful and elegant. The tip was swaying in the air,
almost as if he was hearing a beat in his head he was tapping a foot to. It was kind of cute.
Now, how did I go about convincing him that he wanted to keep me? That I was the horse he should be betting on? I had
never been anyone’s dream girl before, the thought that I could be for him was sort of heady. My choices, my sacrifice for my
family, meant I had left everything I knew and loved behind. Could he be my start of something new?
Again I worried that I was suffering from some kind of weird attachment to my kidnapper, but this time I tried to reason
that out. He had not mistreated me, he had actually protected me, though I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure on that one. He
had locked the door but that felt more like he was keeping the curious onlookers out than to keep me in. I didn’t really feel a
desire to leave if I were honest, I’d just be faced with a crowd of hostile Naga if I did.
When he finally started filling up bowls of stew from the pot over the fire, I rubbed my rumbling belly. Yes, that food
smelled so good! I’d tried my hardest to pay attention when he started cooking. Back on Earth, that was my favorite part of the
day, experimenting with making dinner. All the foreign smells, the herbs and spices he was using, I wanted to try them all.
When he finished scooping his stew into bowls he glanced my way with a thoughtful look on his face. I hoped that he’d sit
next to me and we could try to talk again. I needed to make him start using my name, that would really fix me as a person with
feelings and needs in his head. I needed to start using his name too, forge a connection.
Honestly, I felt this zing of excitement burst through me. I wanted to know more about him. About the hint of vulnerability
I’d seen when he’d been faced with that picture of his mother and him. What did it mean? Had she died?
“Thank you, Krashe,” I said when he offered me one of the bowls. Two polished wooden sticks were tucked into the food,
I guess they used chopsticks around here. When I smiled at him, his eyes narrowed, the slightly rigid nubs of his brow lowering
to shadow them. He looked suspicious of me, did he think I was up to something just because I sounded nice? Or had I
mispronounced his name in a really bad way?
His tail flicked around, curling up my leg which I couldn’t feel until he reached my thigh. Woah, buddy, that was rather
intimate! I wanted to shrug the coil away, push it to a lower spot on my leg, but then I wouldn’t be able to feel the touch, and I
kind of liked feeling the heat of him through my jeans.
 Chapter 6
Krashe
I sat down on the edge of the nest next to Nomy, my tail curled around her legs but not touching her anywhere else. “Eat,” I
told her, “You must regain your strength.” As I said the words, I reached up to touch the small nick in my scales where she’d
struck me before. It had already nearly completely healed. With my marks all aglow, I couldn’t even see it, I just felt the little
nick in my scale when I rubbed my fingers over the spot.
In comparison, her bandaged hand was still very much injured. She was favoring the other one for everything. It smelled to
me like the blood had only barely clotted into a protective crust over the slight cuts.
She wriggled around on my furs to make herself more comfortable and perched the bowl of stew in her lap. “Okay, will
you call me by my name? Naomi?” She smiled at me and that made my heart race. Her soft, rounder features were growing on
me more and more each time I looked at her. Her blue eyes should remind me of my enemies; Thunder Rock Naga all had blue
eyes. They didn’t, they were just uniquely hers.
“Nomy,” I responded. I knew her name, she’d yelled it defiantly at me back in that dark cell. I hadn’t forgotten, but my
tongue wanted to tangle on the strange vowels. When she smiled and shook her head I said it again, Nomy. That was her name, I
was sure of it.
“Na-oh-mi,” she enunciated, tapping her chest with each sound. Three sounds for the two I managed. I heard it now. She
said it clearly, but each time I tried to wrap my tongue around the name, it just became Nomy. Swallowing the Ah noise was
just too ingrained. Frustrated I flicked my tongue out, drawing her scent into my mouth and pressing it against the scent
receptacle at the top just behind my front teeth.
“This isn’t important,” I huffed, slashing my hand through the air. “Eat, you need to stay strong.” I knew what was expected
of me, I knew what the Queen and my warriors wanted, what the Clan would do if they could. I also knew that I could never let
that happen. Na-oh-mi was just too precious, too alluring. She was mine, to protect, to covet, and to possess. Those thoughts
were enough to stir my cock again, eager to extrude and do just that. While rage roared through me at the idea of seeing her
come to harm.
I knew what I had to do for now. I had to make sure no one even thought to come looking for her. I had to make my Clan
think that she was dead. That would suit their appetites, and more importantly, ease their fears.
“Ouch, not so tight… You are pinching me,” Naomi yelped. Her hand slapped at the coil of my tail I had wrapped around
her soft, scaleless thighs. The sound of her slap echoed between us and she raised shocked, startled eyes to my face. She
looked worried, afraid she might have upset me. I eased my coils from around her leg, letting it slide up to curl around her
slender waist, curling again and then again until a loop pressed up against the soft mounds on her chest. Her breasts were
luscious, soft touches of heat against my scales.
“Naaah-omy,” I drawled, watching avidly as her soft cheeks turned a curious shade of pink that darkened to red. The tip of
my tail flicked up against her chin, making her raise it so she had no choice but to meet my eyes. “That’s it. Give me your
defiance, your fire. My mate!” I leaned in closer when she kept her eyes locked on mine, that fire I craved dancing in her icy
blue orbs. My tongue flicked out, tasting the air, tasting the scents of her that perfumed it. Yes! That was her heat, her musk; she
liked it. There would be more touches when I came back.
Uncoiling my body, I set aside what little remained of my food. I left the nest reluctantly but with purpose. I had a plan,
now I just had to put it in motion. She would be safe, for the time being. I would figure out the rest later. Much later.
I stalked through my dwelling as I prepared, slashing my tail behind me and forcing myself to focus on other scents, other
sensations. The presence of my mate burned at me, I knew exactly where she was even when I wasn’t looking, a heat source, a
trail of scent, hints of arousal that filled the air and made me ravenous for more.
“Krashe,” she said, followed by more melodic sounds. They turned progressively more impatient as I continued to ignore
her in favor of filling a sack with peat blocks, rags, and other pieces of trash I could discard. “Damhit! Krashe!” she said, a
little growling noise followed that made me grin to myself. It was adorable, like a little Ayala defending its den.
Another noise behind me alerted me that she’d moved and I spun just in time to see that she was balanced on the edge of
the nest. Was she about to try and climb out of it? With a burst of speed, I was there to catch her right as she threw her
paralyzed limbs over the edge. I realized that she’d estimated her move just right, she wasn’t actually falling. It was clear she
knew how to work with her limitations, but my heart was still racing with worry.
 “Nomy!” I said, I wasn’t sure why, just that I was scared she’d hurt herself. My arms clasped tightly around her body, my
sigils glowing wildly on my shoulders and chest. I felt how my heart was thumping like mad, she had to hear it too, her head
was pressed right against it.
“I’m fine, just don’t ignore me. Tell me what you are going to do! Tell me what’s going on. I want to know. I want to know
if I can trust you…” her voice trailed off, tapering from fierce to forlorn in just a few words. My heart clenched in my chest. I
wasn’t used to sharing, I was used to being obeyed but now I remembered what my parents had been like together. Was that
what Naomi wanted of me?
“You can trust me,” I said roughly against the silky soft strands of her hair. “You can,” I repeated, but that was more for
me. A vow. I wanted to be true to that, to her. My heart burned to be with my mate, to be with this fierce, strange being. Mating
bonds were like that, swift, complete, a loyalty unbreakable. But there was my loyalty to the Clan too, to my cause.
“I am going to make everyone think you are dead,” I added. An explanation for what I was about to do. Picking her up, I
worried anew because she was so light and small in my arms. I placed her back on the furs, keeping hold of her for a little
longer so I could deliver a final warning. “You stay here, where it is safe. Rest. And tomorrow we work out the rest. Do not
leave my home. If anyone sees you, they will kill you on the spot. Understand?”
She nodded, her eyes huge and frightened. I didn’t mean it to be a threat, but I knew that’s what it sounded like. It didn’t
matter right now. As long as she obeyed. Just to be sure though, I would engage my special locking mechanism when I left. No
one but me would be able to open the door.
Unable to resist, I leaned down until our noses nearly touched. Flicking out my tongue, I drew in more of her scent, letting
it linger on my taste receptors. Drawing the split, flat tip along her cheekbone to her hairline. “Stay.” With a growl that masked
a pained grunt, I spun away. I had to tighten muscles along the base of my tail and belly to keep my cock from extruding; always
a painful process.
I stalked for the door, my sack over a shoulder, sword holstered at my back. I made the mistake of glancing over at my nest
a final time. She looked tousled, her cheeks pink, and her eyes a little glazed. Arousal filled the air. Fuck, she was sexy, she
was mine, and she wanted me, right now!
I slammed out the door with a final warning. Locking the door with a definitive snick.
*
Naomi
The sound of the door slamming shut behind Krashe was ominous. I heard the sound of tumblers clicking into place in the
silence that followed, that was even more chilling. I could even see wooden gears turn as a solid wooden beam shifted into
place. The lock managed to look both super crude and old-timey while seeming advanced at the same time. A lock like that was
handcrafted, designed by Krashe himself, and I was pretty sure his home was the only home in this cavern that had one.
My eyes went from the door to the workbench that he’d cleaned up and emptied while I’d been trying to get him to talk to
me. He’d packed away the little trebuchet and the model of something with pipes and a windmill or water wheel of some kind.
The diamondshaped shelves that covered nearly one entire interior wall of his home were now stuffed full of things.
I was a confused mess. Why did he do things to me like lick my freaking cheek? He took all kinds of liberties with my
personal space… and I was craving more. That made me as bonkers in the head as he clearly was. My fingers trailed over the
spot on my cheek that he’d touched with his freaky split tongue.
A spicy, mouthwatering scent reached my nose when I did that. Not the stew; though tasty, it couldn’t compare. No, this
was a scent that was all Krashe. I hated that I felt all hot and bothered after his bizarre goodbye. At least he told me what he
was up to when I finally got through to him. I had to admit that the way he’d rushed for me when he thought I was falling was
also kind of sweet. I was perfectly capable of fending for myself, I had everything under control, but it was pretty swoon-
worthy to hear his heart race with worry.
I just wasn’t sure if I could trust it. He said that I could, his voice all raspy as he vowed it. But I was pretty sure that
protecting me was like treason to his Clan. He was their warlord, why would he do that? Just because he thought I was his
mate? That seemed so extreme… Could a biological quirk be enough to make him betray his own people?
The only thing I did know for sure right now, was that I needed to learn everything I could about my situation. That meant
digging that chest up from the floor so I could inspect what was in it some more. Krashe had hidden the small wooden chest
back beneath one of the gray stone tiles that covered the floor of his home. But I’d paid attention, I knew which one it was.
 Climbing from the nest, I pulled a fur along with me to sit on. It would protect me from the cold floor, and from any more
bruising as I worked to get that flagstone lifted. He’d made it look easy, those bulging muscles weren’t for show; I knew it
would be much harder for me. I couldn’t get leverage in the same way, so I had to be clever about it.
I ran my fingers along the edges of the dark flagstone, testing to see how much it would wiggle for me. Then I reached for
the fire poker I’d seen Krashe use to get the blaze going earlier. It was a long bone, one end tapering to a point, while the other
end was wrapped with leather for better grip.
It was much heavier than it looked and I nearly dropped the thing. Once I had it cradled in my lap I realized with some
horror why. It wasn’t a femur from some beast Krashe had hunted, it was a fang, or maybe a tusk. The thing was as long as my
arm and at the leather-wrapped base, as thick as my wrist. I did not want to imagine the size of the beast this thing came from.
Fervently, I hoped it was a big elephant-type creature but considering what kind of planet I was on… I doubted it.
“Okay,” I said out loud, the crackle and pop of the fire the only sound that came back to me. “I can do this, I just have to
use some leverage.” I heaved my makeshift pole into place, wedging the sharp point of the giant fang under the edge of the tile.
With a good push, the stone lifted, and leaning on my wedge with my upper body, I freed up a hand and gave the tile a good
shove.
I cheered for myself, I’d done it. The fang rolled away as I hurried to slide the stone completely to the side so I could open
up the hidden cubbyhole. The small wooden chest was like a treasure, gleaming in the firelight where the wood had been
polished to a deep nutmeg sheen. The hinges at the back were made of looped branches and rope, the lock no more than a loop
of the same, folded over a carved wooden protrusion.
When I flipped it open, I heard a noise and I raised my head in surprise. Where did that come from? It sounded like a
cross between a mewl and a chirp. The single room was still a bit of a cluttered mess, even with Krashe’s cleaning spree from
before. I didn’t see anything and it couldn’t have been the chest, could it?
I hauled the smallish box out of the hole, and then rearranged myself on the fur so I could sit comfortably while I looked. A
stack of what looked like datapads, at least six of them, all gleaming silver with sinuous lines decorating the sides. The
holographic picture cube was perched on a folded piece of cloth, which was soft to the touch. When I pulled it out and
unfolded it, it turned out to be a scarf of a deep red, embroidered with gold thread.
My breath caught in my throat at how beautiful it was, my eyes scanning over the surface in total fascination. This looked
like a tapestry made to tell a story. At the top were planets and stars, below that clearly a city like the one I’d seen in the
pictures earlier. While at the bottom was a depiction of the Naga as tribalmen. Waving spears around and hunting six-legged,
cattle-type creatures.
You could read it both ways—the Naga climbing to advanced technology or a chronicle of their devolution. I was pretty
sure the maker of this piece of art had intended to chronicle the latter. There were symbols in the middle that made me think of
war, of robotic armies marching on their creators. I was pretty sure there was an image of a spaceship leaving the planet as
well, but it could also depict an arrival.
“Chirp?” Startled, I raised my head and searched the room again. That noise, what was it? And where was it coming
from? The apartment I’d grown up in back on Earth had rats that you could hear scuttling around in the ceiling and walls at
night. I really hoped it wasn’t something like that, the thought alone made my skin itch along the back of my neck.
I thought I saw a flash of something green and heard another chirping noise. “Come out, where are you?” I asked gently.
Maybe it was Krashe’s pet and it was just scared to come out of hiding. Cajoling a little more, I made those silly noises with
my lips that people always made for pets and babies. “Come on out, I won’t hurt you.”
This time I heard something flutter to my left, and when I raised my head I was just in time to see a bright green little snout
poke out from beneath a roll of parchment. “Chirp, kee kee?” it said. A pair of velvety brown eyes stared at me from a tiny
little face with a pointy nose and an impressive set of bright green whiskers.
“Oh, there you are. Come on out. You’re a cute one, aren’t you?” I said and I slowly raised up my hand toward it. I
couldn’t possibly reach it, whatever it was, but it was small and green and those eyes were just so soft. My rational brain
wanted to point out that this was usually when the hero in the movie ended up getting bitten.
The little green nose nudged up, sending the scroll it was hiding under spinning. The parchment thudded to the empty
workbench and rolled off it and both me and the green creature followed its descent with our eyes. Watching it bounce with
identical head bobs along with the motion. “Oops,” I said with a laugh.
Then the breath faltered in my throat. The creature sprung from the diamond-shaped cubbyhole, four little legs spread
wide. Then small leathery wings unfurled and caught the air and the tiny creature coasted down toward me in a tight spiral.
Four little paws landed on my still outstretched hand, a long, thin tail wrapping around my fingers. “Chirp kee kee?”
Oh my god, it was so damn cute! It was shaped much like a lizard; the way the four legs angled on the sides of its body. Its
head was round at the back but pointed at the front but unlike a lizard, it had a pair of ears that it wiggled and a set of green
whiskers on its nose. While it did look like it had scales, the pebbled texture was velvety soft, as if they were covered in a fine
suede.
It was bright green like a parrot, with bright green bat wings to match. As alien as could be but also cute like a flying
squirrel or something. Actually, it was possibly as close to what I imagined a dragon might look like, only miniature. Its weight
was soft and warm in my hand, and its body no longer than my palm. “You are as green as a kiwi, you know that?” I said to it,
and it responded with a chirp kee kee.
“Guess I’ll call you that, huh? Kiwi?” I offered, raising my hand a little to bring it closer to my face. “Are you a boy or a
girl, Kiwi?” I didn’t expect an answer but it still fascinated me when it fluttered its wings and swung its tail like it was
preening for me. The little creature even puffed up its chest and raised itself on its four squat little legs. Ah, a boy then, trying
to show off?
“Do you live here? Do you know Krashe?” I said while I lowered my hand to put him down on the fur next to me. I wasn’t
sure what the little creature wanted of me, but so far he hadn’t given any indication that he was inclined to bite. I hoped that
was a good sign.
The tiny little dragon scuttled around in a circle on the fur next to my hip. Then he raised his nose in the air and wiggled it
while sniffling. Ah, probably hungry. I leaned over and nabbed my empty stew bowl from the barrel next to the strange round
bed. “You want some of this, Kiwi?” I asked, offering it to him.
“Chirp kee kee!” he responded, spreading wings and paws to leap for the offered food. While my strange new companion
tucked into his meal of leftovers, I settled my focus back on the treasures I’d uncovered. Based on the story the embroidered
scarf told me, I knew that a calamity had struck this planet. That was why Krashe’s people were back in the Stone Age, but that
didn’t explain much else.
I carefully refolded the scarf and placed it back in the chest, taking out one of the datapads instead. It took me a moment to
figure out how to turn it on, but once I did I was greeted with some kind of interface and dozens of little icons. Not an
unfamiliar sight, I just didn’t know what any of it meant.
Then my eyes caught on the scroll that Kiwi had dropped onto the floor. The edge had unfurled and squiggly symbols were
visible on the edge of the paper. Symbols exactly like the ones on the screen of the datapad. I started to reach for the scroll,
which was far away enough that I had to scoot off the fur to do it. A green ball streaked passed my hand, Kiwi racing across the
floor on his short legs. He was on the scroll in a flash, his little mouth opening to bite down on the edge.
“Oh no, don’t…” I started to stay, worried he was about to eat the thing. But then he did something strange, scuttling
backward and pulling the leather roll with him. His long tail lashed from the effort and then he was next to me, nudging the
scroll into my hand and raising his head to look at me with pride.
“Why, thank you! What a good boy, Kiwi!” I said and he responded with his customary chirp, his tail wagging behind him
so fast that it thumped on the floor. I guess he was more dog than dragon. Not that he looked that much like any of the Earth
creatures I was reminded of, my mind just wanted to classify him as something familiar.
I accepted the offered scroll with a smile, daring to reach out to scratch the little fellow between his soft little ears. He
purred like a kitten when I did that, ears twitching, and his eyes shutting. Soon he was curled up in my lap, a winged, suede-soft
little bundle of heat. He was rolled on his side, round little belly protruding now that he’d eaten his fill of my leftover stew.
Suddenly, things didn’t seem quite so bleak anymore. I wasn’t alone now that I’d made an animal friend. If only I could
figure out how to read these damn squiggles… I really wanted to know what Krashe had been writing about on these scrolls.
And why could he write the same script that was on these datapads? Maybe I was leaping to a strange conclusion here, Krashe
probably couldn’t read or write at all.
Eventually, I had to give up. I couldn’t read any of this and studying the pictures in the holo cube didn’t give me any more
answers. Kiwi woke up when I started to put the chest back into the hideyhole beneath the stone. He chittered in my ear while
he perched on my shoulders as I worked to make everything look untouched. Appeased when I held out the stew bowl for him
again.
Then I finally had to give in to my exhaustion. Krashe hadn’t come back and it had been hours since he’d left. The fire had
started to die down to embers and a chill was back in the air. I didn’t want to stir up the flames when I was going to try to
sleep, afraid I’d cause the house to burn down around me. At least Kiwi didn’t leave my side when I climbed back into the
round bed and tucked myself under the many furs there.
“Thanks buddy,” I said to his tiny shape as he snuggled up against my chest. “It’s good to make friends.” I was starting to
drift off when I realized what an idiot I was, I should have grabbed one of the many weapons from the wall. Sleep caught me
before I could bring myself to climb back out of bed to grab one.
 Chapter 7
Krashe
I was dusty and dirt-streaked when I finished up my final tasks that evening. I wanted desperately to return to my home to
see how Naomi was doing. Had she remained undiscovered? Was she all right alone in there? Not too cold or hungry?
When I’d left her my body had ached, especially my cock. I wanted to return to her side immediately and resume touching
her when her scent was so receptive and sweet. Instead, I’d forced myself to smear some of the slaughter waste on the bottom
of the sack and then parade that thing through the Hearth Caves.
I’d told the Queen proudly that decapitation had worked and she no longer needed to worry. Then I’d ignored the many
cheers and pats to the shoulder and hauled that sack out of there before anyone could demand to have a look inside. I’d told my
warriors I was going to ensure the Clan’s safety by disposing of the corpse far away from the Hearth caves, in case it could
spread sickness or foulness to the Clan.
Then I’d slithered into the warren of tunnels beyond the Hearth Caves and tossed that damn sack into the deepest abyss I
could find just in case anyone decided to check on it. When I returned I’d been greeted with a wasteful feast at the central
gathering place. Naga dancing around the fire and gorging themselves on food stores we could not afford to consume so
rapidly.
I’d been so furious at the sight, at the glee and happiness of my Clansmen over the supposed death of Naomi. I couldn’t
partake any longer than was polite, and then I’d slunk off to run drills with a contingent of warriors until I was covered in
bruises and dirt. My body heated from the exertion until the scales along my back rattled to help cool me down.
On the eve of war, even with a feast going, most warriors were working; making final preparations. I was happy to see
that they were working diligently despite the temptations. At least some of the Clan knew what had to be done. Aser was at my
side for hours, aiming me at one issue after another to help solve. From a lack of fletching for the last arrows that needed to be
made, to disputes over who was to lead which strike of my carefully drawn up battle plan.
When I finally reached the nearest well to my home to wash up, I was exhausted and deeply worried. What if someone had
discovered my mate in my home? What if someone uncovered the lie I’d spun for the Clan? They would turn on me in a
heartbeat, despite all that I’d done for them and all the sacrifices I’d made.
“Sir,” Aser warbled from my left. I thought I’d finally shaken him after I’d straightened out some warriors on their
assigned tasks half an hour ago. But there he was, ducking out of a small alley between two rather lopsided homes, abandoned
right now because the occupants were still at the feast raging at the gathering place.
The male was not as big or fierce as most warriors, he was a bureaucrat more than a warrior. I realized that maybe that
was what made him such a good assistant, even if I found him rather grating. His ego didn’t want to compete with my own, and
his skills weren’t on the battlefield, they were in management.
“What now, Aser?” I asked wearily. I was too tired for more crap, and I wanted to return to Naomi and hold her in my
coils. I wanted to feast my eyes on her strange, pale features and know that she was absolutely safe.
He wasn’t as carefully coiffed as he normally was either. The soft brown robe he usually wore, tied shut with a red sash,
was dusty and dirt-stained along the hem. His long black hair was a fuzzy braid instead of the slick oiled thing I’d seen him
with that afternoon. Yeah, maybe he was proving that it wasn’t so bad to have an assistant, he’d kept up with me all day.
“Sir, I just wanted to say thank you… I asked for this position, you know.” The words were offered quietly, and he dared
to duck close to the well next to me. He spoke as if he was sharing a secret, and maybe he was. I had such a reputation for
scaring off anyone functioning as my second, as my assistant, that it was a hard position to fill, and most didn’t last long. For
Aser to have asked for the job… That would be rare indeed.
“I believe that you are the only one in the Clan who is trying to do what is needed. The only one who cares, Sir. That’s
why I asked for the job. And Sir, today just proved that to me. Thank you.” I stared at the male suspiciously, wondering if he
knew what I’d really been up to with my mate. If he was implying that he knew of my trickery, I’d have to kill him.
But Aser offered me a partially toothless smile, slick and ingratiating. Then he dipped into a bow, “This campaign will
serve to feed us. I, like you Sir, could no longer stand by and see our younglings starve.” He dipped into a bow, and then he
was gone, slithering back into the warren of the village without a backward glance.
I was still trying to decipher if there were any suspicions of my deception in his words when I finished my quick wash and
hastened back to my home. It was only when I was nearly there that a disturbing discovery shook me from my thoughts.
Naomi’s scent, it tinted the air around my home like a fine perfume.
Because she was my mate I knew I was particularly sensitive to her scent but this was strong enough for anyone to pick up.
Fear filled my chest as I searched the shadowed homes that surrounded mine. Most were dark, either filled with the sleeping or
abandoned for the party. The scent of the nearby latrine tunnel was just strong enough to overpower most other smells. Was it
enough to hide Naomi’s presence from my brethren?
I unlocked the door to my home with the wooden key from my pouch, anxiously listening for any sounds. If one of my
warriors approached me now, they’d instantly know, the open door would release even more of her delicious scent.
It felt like a blessing when the narrow path remained empty and I could duck inside without being seen or noticed. This
wouldn’t do, I’d have to fix this situation as soon as possible. But how? My mind was racing with all kinds of possibilities but
my instincts were telling me there was only one option. My mouth went dry as I thought it through but once the thought had its
hooks in me, it was impossible to shake it.
The fire had died down to nothing but little embers in the hearth but my eyes were adapted to see in low-light settings. I
could make out the shape of my mate with perfect clarity beneath the pile of furs in my nest. It should have covered her scent
with my own, but the delicate perfume that was all her was filling my lungs. Her fragrance settled there like a balm, and tight
muscles finally unwound in my shoulders and back.
Her long, yellow locks had spilled above her head in these luscious waves. They picked up little glimmers of light from
the embers. She had pulled the furs up high, so all I could see was the shape of her shoulder and hip beneath the mount. The tip
of a delicate pink ear sticking out, the curve of her soft, round cheek, and the tip of her dainty little nose.
She was asleep, her breathing a soft whisper, and I was flooded with tenderness and excitement as I watched her. I
stripped myself of my weapon and weapon harness as quietly as I could so I wouldn’t wake her. Then I approached, itching to
curl up beneath the furs with her and wrap her in my coils. To cover her with my scent.
Already, my cock ached and pushed against the slit of my pouch. I wasn’t nearly as inclined as before to hold myself back.
Leaning over her, I picked up the edge of the furs and raised it. “Scree! Hissssss!” The sounds were the only warning I had,
then a green bundle of something flew from beneath my furs, straight at my face. It clawed at my eyes and forehead, screeching,
hissing, and growling furiously. I clawed back, trying to pry the beast from my head.
“No! Don’t hurt him! Kiwi!” Naomi yelled. I thought she was warning the damn Sleara attacking me not to hurt me. But
when I finally managed to pry the beastie off me, slinging it across the room, she yelled and dove carelessly from the nest to go
after it. “Krashe! What did you do? Kiwi, are you okay?”
I managed to catch her before she could harm herself on the hard stone floor, my tail already partially coiled around her
legs. Even during my struggle with the Sleara, part of me had reached for her, instinctively trying to protect her from the threat,
minor as it was. My face ached from the few scratches along my hairline the beast had inflicted, my pride hurt even more.
Across the room I could see that the little Sleara had clambered onto my workbench, his emerald green wings spread wide
as the small male hissed and growled at me. He wasn’t approaching though, clearly not so ready to go another round with me.
He was posturing and puffing himself up, as if he thought my mate was his. I bared my fangs and growled back, the sound
rattling up my chest, my scales clattering threateningly along my back.
“What did I do?” I demanded angrily of my mate when the Sleara snapped his wings shut with a huff and sat down. He’d
conceded the battle, for now, but he was still giving me a baleful glare from across the room. “He’s the one that attacked me! I
just wanted to go to bed!” I had wanted to do much more than just sleep, but I refrained from saying that.
I had her tucked in my arms, cradled against my chest, and she just had to tilt her head back a little to look me in the eye.
She was squinting which made me realize she did not have sight adapted to the dark like the Sleara and I had. I wasn’t going to
say it out loud, but it was adorable the way she was looking at me. Her glare was landing south of my eyes, probably fixating
more on my chin horn, a brighter spot visible in the dark.
“You shouldn’t have hurt him! He was just protecting me…” she said, and my scales bristled along my spine some more.
Damn it, what about me? I was the one with blood dripping from my hairline. I hadn’t hurt the Sleara, but he’d clawed me up
good. Her lack of worry for me had my temper soaring and a snarl ripped from my throat.
There was just a hint of fear in her scent, her eyes growing wide as they swiveled back from the damn creature to me.
“You don’t need protecting from me,” I told her fiercely. Pressing her back into the furs, I slid into the nest with her, pinning her
in place with my coils. I kept my weight off her slight form with one arm and I pressed my hand to her chest.
Beneath my palm her heart was rapidly beating, her breathing rising and falling in a fast pattern. I made sure I was looking
at her eyes, my tongue extended to catch any hint of scent, and then I palmed one of the soft mounds on her chest. “Your scent
betrays you,” I said as she thrashed beneath me. I wasn’t just talking about how her scent was spreading outside my home
which could give her presence away at any moment. I was talking about the musky scent of her arousal that had already
overpowered any hint of fear.
“Fuck you, Krashe,” she spat at me. “Don’t touch me. I did not agree to be your mate, remember?” I would have liked that
fiery response but the angry chittering of the Sleara on my workbench infuriated me all over again. The pest must have slithered
in through a crack in the back wall. Why the fuck was it getting between me and my mate? It had no right, and I was even more
furious that I was being threatened by a Sleara, a bottom-feeding rodent.
“The blood on your shirt is giving you away,” I said, and with my claws I made short work of ripping through the fabric.
She screamed much like the Sleara did, angry hissing and growling that wasn’t nearly as impressive as either of them thought it
was. Yanking the fabric free from her body, I tossed the bloodstained cloth onto the slumbering embers where it caught fire,
incinerating the incriminating smells.
She wasn’t bare, a contraption, a kind of harness was still containing her luscious breasts. Plain white, the lacy fabric was
enticing, hinting at the stiff peaks beneath. I hooked my claw under the strap between her breasts, ready to slice that off too
even though there was no blood on the fabric. That was just a primal urge that was riding me hard, urging me to bare all of her
to me, to stake my claim on each inch of her precious skin.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Naomi hissed, “If you damage my bra… So help me God, I will make you regret it for the rest
of your days!” There was so much anger and passion in that threat that it snapped me out of my rage-filled haze. I looked from
her icy glare down to the strange harness that cupped her breasts, it was a really lovely sight, I had to admit that.
“Fine,” I said, “There is no blood on it anyway.” I dropped my claw from the band and drew it down over her belly. “But
we need to cover your scent, I could taste you, scent you, outside my home.”
Her glare lessened but her eyes remained narrowed suspiciously on my face. “Oh, yeah? And how do you plan to do
that?” She spoke the words like a dare, and it made me grin. She was just so precious and I loved how she challenged me
every step of the way, I wasn’t used to that.
I rose above her while sliding the tip of my tail from the bed to light the nearest lantern. I wanted to see every detail of
what I was about to do to her, I wanted to imprint it in my memories so I could never forget. Already, my cock was pushing out,
the writhing tips tasting the cool air as they escaped my pouch.
She threw up a hand to shield her eyes from the brightness the oil lantern caused when I lit the wick. That didn’t last long,
her eyes took me in from the shelter of her cupped palm; the orbs growing impossibly large. Her look lingered on the blood
clotting along my forehead and temple, then dropped down my chest to center on my slowly extruding cock. “Oh hell no!” she
said, but her scent deepened, musky and sweet. Her arousal perfuming the air.
“Yessss,” I hissed, “I must cover your scent with mine. It is the only way!” I palmed my erection, pulling it free the rest of
the way with relief. Finally, I could give in to these urges. They had been filling my head all day, since the moment I’d laid
eyes on my strange but exciting mate. Giving my cock a few tugs, I watched her carefully for any hint that she was going to try
and stop me.
“You can’t just do that, Krashe! I told you, I’m not your mate. This is bullshit!” Her last word turned into a furious hiss,
but her aroused scent intensified and her eyes never left my cock. She even licked her lips, her cheeks flushing pink. The angry
noise she made was enough to rattle the Sleara once more and I could only just duck in time as he flew at my head again.
I caught the little fellow with the tip of my tail and reaching out, I chucked him under a nearby basket. “Stay out of this,
she’s not your mate,” I hissed at the Sleara, and instantly I felt angry that I’d been reduced to competing with this damn rodent
for my mate’s affections. I couldn’t leave her alone for an hour or she got herself mixed up with something.
“Don’t…” Naomi started to say but she fell silent as she watched the basket wiggle and rattle on the floor. I had done as
she asked, I wasn’t hurting him. He just needed to know his place, and stay out of this. He wasn’t going to ruin what I’d been
aching to do for hours. Her eyes flicked up to the blood drying on my head and she sighed. “Fine, but we’re not leaving Kiwi in
there!”
That sounded like surrender to me, so I nodded and gave my eager cock another few tugs while I watched her breasts rise
and fall. So pretty, so soft, and so pale. “No! Wait, you are not putting that thing in me! You hear me?” I threw back my head
and laughed, of course not. That would defeat the point right now; there would be time for that later. I hoped.
 Chapter 8
Naomi
I felt a little bad for Krashe when I realized he was marked by a dozen scratches on his face. Kiwi had done that when he
thought he needed to protect me from the big bad Warlord. It was no wonder that he’d shoved my little animal friend under a
basket to stay out of his way. I really didn’t like that, but at least he had done what I said, he hadn’t hurt my new friend.
It didn’t make me feel any less angry about what was happening right now. But I was angry at myself as much as I was
angry with Krashe. He was bullying me around, doing what he wanted without asking me if I was okay with it. But damn it, my
body really liked it when he did that, which was really infuriating.
Maybe there really was something to the whole mating thing. I had to be in heat for him or something, reacting extra
strongly to his presence. My eyes just wanted to keep dropping to the cock he was stroking just above my bare belly. It was the
first cock I’d ever seen in the flesh, but I knew it looked nothing like a human cock. It had a split tip for instance, which was
really freaky but also really hot.
The split tip was writhing and twining together, each tip glistening with white precum. The base of his cock was easily as
thick as my wrist and veined. The scales there were more a suggestion that actual scales, like his flesh was pebbled and
textured without any sharp edges. He was roughly stroking the length and each time he reached the tips, they would curl toward
his fingers.
My passage clenched, flooding with wetness when I couldn’t help but imagine what that might feel like inside of me.
Nope, not happening. This was already more than I signed up for, but I also felt like I couldn’t say no. Maybe I didn’t even
want to. Wasn’t I trying to live the best version of myself each moment of the day? I had too many brushes with death at this
point to live with any regrets. I was thinking I might definitely regret it if I didn’t seize my chance to watch him work his alien
cock. As long as that’s all he was doing, but I was pretty sure at this point that he was; he wanted to spill his seed on my flesh.
“I will make you smell of me,” Krashe growled, his pace quickening. I couldn’t help but squirm my hips beneath him. He
had thrown several of his coils over my body, keeping me in place, but he was rising above me from just to my right. His cock
was over my bare belly, and when he got rougher with his strokes, his knuckles brushed along my skin with each stroke.
Already, white drops had trickled onto my belly, pooling in my belly button.
I was so wet, I was sure that was defeating the whole point, but Krashe didn’t seem to intend to stop. I didn’t want him to
at this point, I wanted to see this through to the end. This was for safety right? To keep the other Naga from finding out about
me. I didn’t even care about that at this point, I just wanted to see his face when he came, discover what sound he’d make.
Everything about him was savage and feral, a Warlord to the bone. From his wide shoulders, the deep red scales that
glimmered with gold, to the wild swirls and stripes that glowed along his upper body. His wine-red eyes were locked onto my
face, leaving me no doubt at all that it was me he was thinking of as he pleasured himself.
His bloodstained face was pulled into something that almost resembled a grimace, his focus that intense. Some of his long
hair freed from the tight ponytail he wore it in. Feathers, beads, and braids scattered through the auburn tresses over his
shoulders. I felt like I was being taken by a Warlord, a savage primal alien. He was marking me his and that was barbaric and
primitive and I was just so on board for it, it was crazy. If my hands weren’t pinned above my head right now by the heavy
weight of one of his coils… I might reach down into my pants and touch myself.
I mean, when you thought about it, it was empowering to realize just how hot he was for me, how furiously he was rubbing
himself while staring at my face. He looked at me like he’d been dying to do this, like alien, strange, and paralyzed me was his
idea of perfection. Yeah, no wonder it was such a turn-on. And combine that with his bossy, possessive attitude? While he
never once hurt me, yeah… Okay so maybe I was willing to be his mate, eventually. As soon as he proved to me that he wasn’t
going to toss me to his Clan when he had his fill.
I dropped my eyes from his savage expression back to his cock and had to bite my lip to muffle a groan. His flesh was
slick from his own precum, the bifurcated head flushed so dark it was nearly black. He was close, I knew it, and pleasure
skated up my spine at the thought. Maybe I had some seductress in me after all…
Then he growled and my nipples grew tight in response, my passage clamping down on nothing; it was a pleasure that
hinted at pain. His cock twitched in his fist and then the tips curled tightly together and seed splattered from them, sizzling
across my skin. Jet after jet burst from him with each pleasured groan he made. His eyes burned my skin as he watched with
satisfaction how he painted me with his spill.
I could feel each drop like a spot of heat on my flesh until it cooled. My belly was good and coated, but it had splattered
across my chest too. It smelled good, like caramel popcorn but I still hoped he didn’t expect me to keep wearing that stuff like
bad body paint. “Satisfied now?” I demanded, a hint of my own frustration bleeding into my sharp tone. Now he was going to
roll over and go to sleep, and I could just lie here in the mess, hot and bothered but too embarrassed now that the heated
moment had passed, to do something about it.
“No,” he snarled, much to my surprise. His split tongue flicked out into the air, and I knew he was sifting through the
scents, deciding whether mine was masked enough. His eyes were like burning coals, heating more and more with each flick of
that long alien tongue.
His fist finally released his cock, the long length still hard, the tips still wiggling together. “This isn’t enough,” he said
more calmly, and his eyes flicked up beneath his long lashes just long enough to pierce me with a look I couldn’t decipher. He
pressed his open hand palm down onto my belly, directly into the mess of seed that coated my skin.
Locking eyes with me, it felt like he was daring me, throwing down a challenge. Then he twisted his wrist and tunneled his
seed-coated hand down into my pants in a single, confident move. My spine arched up, sensation searing through me. I was
lucky, I still had most of my ability to feel in that area, but I swore, nothing had ever felt as intense as the raspy texture of his
palm as he cupped me between my legs.
With two fingers, he spread my lower lips, pinching my clit between them and rubbing his seed-covered digits with just
the right amount of pressure. I saw stars, an orgasm shooting through me like lightning. “Ah Krashe!” It was like I’d waved a
red flag in front of a bull, shouting his name like that was like I’d invited him to shrug off his restraints.
I was divested of my pants and underwear in seconds, his coils finally freeing me up so he could spread my legs and plant
himself between them. My body went tight for a brief moment, thinking he was about to shove that monster cock into me. One
orgasm wasn’t enough foreplay to take him into my untried passage, I knew that much.
But he settled his shoulders between my thighs. I could only feel hints of the brush of his scales against my skin there, but I
definitely felt it when he spread my lips and started to rub my clit again. Using his other hand, he rubbed his spent into my
belly, running it down to spread more of it along my lips and passage. It didn’t take him long at all to find my opening, circle it
with his thick finger, and then pierce me with a grunt. I came again, my body so primed for him, my flesh tingling everywhere
his seed touched me.
“Good girl,” Krashe drawled, his split tongue flicked out and he drew it along my slit with a bliss-filled look. “That’s it,
more.” I didn’t know exactly what more he wanted, considering this whole thing started to cover my scent, not make it stronger.
I was only too happy to let him flick that long tongue along my clit, his finger gently stroking in and out of me, until I burst into
another round of blinding pleasure.
When he leaned closer and drew my clit entirely into his mouth I yelped, everything was too sensitive now. My hands
found his head, digging into his hair as I pushed him away. “No, too much! Let go of me!” I moaned, still trembling from my last
orgasm. Krashe raised his glistening mouth from my flesh with the widest grin on his handsome, foreign features.
To my relief, he pulled back, raising himself on his hands and tail above me to inspect his handiwork. Then he flicked out
his tongue again and nodded with satisfaction. “If you can’t take more, I will give you a break…” He said, and then he broke
out an honest-to-God smile that made him look rakish and kind of boyish, a stark contrast with his normally serious or
downright grumpy expression.
A break, I needed at least eight hours of solid sleep to recover from all that. And I needed to wash up but I was pretty sure
he wasn’t going to let me. “Can I?” I pointed at the barrel of water he kept next to the bed. Because a girl had to try, and to my
relief he rose to get a wet rag, and as he did so, he flicked the basket off Kiwi and freed the miniature dragon.
Kiwi was like an angry kitten, hackles raised, wings spread. He hissed at Krashe’s tail but he didn’t attack, just watched
the Warlord move around his home full of suspicion. Then Krashe pulled the lid of some ceramic jar and dropped several
strips of dried meat on the floor and Kiwi forgot all about his hostility, diving into the treats with fervor.
I was smiling at the Warlord when he came back to my side and gently started to clean me up between my legs. He’d fed
Kiwi without me asking like he already knew the tiny dragon was going to be sticking around if it were up to me. He cleaned
my folds gently but he left the drying seed on my belly. That was better than nothing so I didn’t complain.
When he turned around to clean his still rigid cock by the barrel, I worked to pull my pants and underwear back on. I was
now missing my shirt, but at least he’d taken me seriously when I warned him not to destroy my bra. That was my most
comfiest, best bra, and it was also my only bra right now. That thing was sacred at this point, nobody got to touch it on pain of
death.
 I knew that it was going to go without saying, that Krashe was sliding back into the furs with me when he was clean. I
hoped he understood that I was worn down to nothing at this point, exhaustion had me firmly in its claws. I settled under the
furs, my belly still a little sticky, but the sweet scent of caramel continued to be pleasant, tempting even. Then I settled my eyes
on the Naga male, watching him as he finished washing himself. He looked lost in thought, but it was still sensual to see him
run a wet cloth over his flesh, leaving his scales glistening in the light of the lamp.
When he finished, his eyes flicked to mine and the corner of his lips quirked up. I knew he knew I’d been watching, but I
refused to feel embarrassed about that. After what we’d just done together, I shouldn’t feel awkward when he lifted the furs and
curled his body around mine. I did though; I had never been intimate with anyone before. And since my accident, I hadn’t
cuddled like this with anyone, what would he think of my limp legs? Would it bother him?
Krashe just gathered me to his chest, tucking his chin over my head while handily avoiding jabbing me with the horn
jutting like a goatee from it. His body coiled around mine, not too tight, not too heavy, but some of his loops had to have gone
around my legs, and I couldn’t feel that. What I did know was that I was warm, and even my always cold feet would be warm
tonight.
Then Kiwi made his chirp kee kee noises and leaped onto the edge of the round bed. I could see his velvety brown eyes
glimmer intelligently at me from his slightly elevated position. Krashe groaned against my hair, “Don’t tell me the Sleara is
sleeping in my nest too…” But he didn’t move or protest any further when Kiwi jumped onto his shoulder and then onto the furs
just above our heads. When the tiny dragon did that little curl walk before settling down next to us, Krashe just sighed and did
the same.
That’s when I realized I could actually really, really like this guy. Maybe I really was his mate, maybe that meant that he
was exactly what I liked and needed in a man. I just knew that he was actually kind when it came to Kiwi, and he seemed very
into giving me pleasure. As much as he’d been into watching my face while he masturbated.
I groaned internally. Stop thinking about how sexy that was. Sleep was what I needed if I wanted to be fit tomorrow.
Turned out it wasn’t hard to fall asleep in Krashe’s arms. I did trust him to keep me safe, to protect me. Had he chosen me over
his Clan? That question was still spinning through my mind when I woke up much later.
My stomach rumbled, my bladder was ready to explode, and I was really warm and sticky. Also, Krashe was nowhere to
be found. I only had to look around the small, lit room to know that it was empty of my host. The fire was roaring in the hearth,
however, which was probably why I was feeling so warm. There were also at least three furs piled on top of me, but when I
shoved those away, I realized I wasn’t sticky from sweat.
On my front, his seed had dried into a nice Rorschach test of white splatters and smears. But my back was doused with a
new load while I’d been asleep. It was fresh, because it was still wet, perfuming the air with more of that mouthwatering
caramel popcorn scent. I was struck with the insane urge to reach out and bring some of that seed to my mouth for a taste, it
smelled that good.
Annoyed that he’d done that while I was sleeping, I was reaching for a wet rag dangling from the edge of the barrel before
I could think it through. Rubbing my skin clean along my back and front with furious motions. “Chirp kee kee?” Kiwi asked me
inquisitively. He was perched by the edge of the hearth, his wings spread as if he was basking in the heat of the fire. His green
snout was angled my way, watching avidly what I was doing.
I smiled, relieved that the small animal was still there. I had spent a lot of time alone at home, with only books or the
internet for company. I was happy to have him here when Krashe wasn’t, and I knew how silly I was for craving the strange
Naga’s companionship when most of our interactions were in snarls and growls. I flashed back to how he pleasured me with
his fingers and mouth last night and instantly felt a rush of wetness between my legs. Damn it, no, that’s not why I wanted him to
come back here. I just didn’t feel safe without him but really I needed to man up and make sure I could take care of myself.
I washed between my legs to be sure and then tossed the rag I’d used into the fire so it couldn’t leave any scent lingering
in the air. With the blaze going, I wouldn’t be cold in just my bra and pants, but I still resolved to make a shirt for myself
somehow.
As I gazed around the room for a way to relieve myself, feed myself, and locate supplies, I noticed some drastic changes.
Almost all of Krashe’s scrolls, books, and papers had disappeared from the bookshelves. His workbench still had a box with
tools, but all his projects were gone. When I glanced at the fire, I realized some of those wooden craft pieces were burning to
cinders. Why would he do that?
There was also a plate with flatbread and jerky on the workbench, a basket covering it to keep Kiwi out. I liked that he
had put it on a surface far away from the nest, like he had faith that I could reach it there without his help. I climbed from the
nest with purpose, used a bucket near the door to relieve myself, and then I headed for the food.
Not much later I was sitting on some furs in front of the fire while I worked to punch holes in a fur with a bone awl. I’d
already cut the fur into the right shape with one of Krashe’s knives, and made long ribbons from the leftovers so I could sew the
fur together into the basic shape of tunic. I was no seamstress, but I was finding the project soothing to my tense nerves. It felt
good to at least be busy with something.
Kiwi also liked this project, so much so, that I’d had to sacrifice one of the ribbons so he could play with it. Currently, he
was sleeping off his ‘successful’ hunt, lying on his side against my hip, the strip of leather and fur tangled with his paws after
he’d chased it around the room for an hour. It felt like I’d had Kiwi at my side for years already, and while he looked much like
a dragon, but tiny, his behavior was pretty dog-like most of the time.
Once the shirt was done, I wanted to take another crack at trying to decipher the datapads or the scrolls Krashe kept. Since
the scrolls were gone, that left the datapads and I quickly located the fire poker so I could lift the large flagstone out of place
and get a good look. It wasn’t as difficult as yesterday to lift the stone, a good sign that I was much more rested. I felt better, not
as scared or stressed, and I realized I really had done the unthinkable, I’d gone and trusted Krashe to keep me safe.
I was just pulling the small chest from the hole when noises filtered through the walls that made goosebumps rise all over
my flesh. Hissing voices, dozens of them, and they sounded loud and angry. Krashe’s home was pretty well-insulated with thick
wood and clay walls that kept out sound surprisingly well. Which meant that these voices were coming from right outside the
door.
I didn’t need to be touching Krashe to know the general meaning of their words either. They sounded angry, furious, like an
angry mob with pitchforks and everything. They had discovered that I wasn’t dead, that Krashe was hiding me here, in his
home.
When I heard the noise of a door opening, I knew it was all over.
 Chapter 9
Krashe
I had worked with my commanding officers for several hours, reinforcing the plan of attack. I wanted to make sure that
each one of them knew exactly what they had to do when Bitter Storm marched on the village of Thunder Rock in the coming
days. I knew now that I couldn’t be there with them, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t move forward with the plan. It was a
good plan and I still believed it was the only way to feed all the hungry bellies.
Leaving Naomi that morning had been extremely difficult, but it had to be done. As I slept, I’d dreamed over and over of
the things the Clan would do to her if they discovered her. I’d been deeply unsettled by it all, and when awake, I’d known that I
could not subject her to live confined to four walls, forced to remain in hiding.
So I’d made preparations, as many as I could while she still slumbered. Then I’d set about surreptitiously settling my
affairs with the Clan. Only Aser had glanced at me with some suspicion during that morning’s meeting with my officers. That
male was sharp as an Ayala when scenting berries. I’d saddled him with as many tasks as I could think of, hoping to keep him
busy.
As the final meeting wound down, I knew I couldn’t restrain the urge to go check on my mate. A feverish excitement filled
the Hearth Caves, but it seemed to be getting stronger. Younglings were racing along the pathways, shouting at each other, and
ducking around corners to whisper secrets. I had attributed that excitement to the coming war, but now I wasn’t so sure.
Dread settled deep in my gut, and that feeling only got stronger when I saw two warriors come from the direction of my
home. They each glared at me suspiciously when I greeted them with a casual nod. A snarl settled into place on my face after
that, sending anyone crossing my path to flee in the other direction.
When I turned into an alley with a direct view of my home, my blood froze in my veins. There was a whole crowd
gathered, most of them warriors armed with their spears or even swords. With them were several high-ranking females and that
was what set off every alarm in my head. Before they could notice I was there, I ducked out of sight and rushed to make a
different approach.
Ducking through the latrine tunnel, I raced past several Naga who were shoveling new holes with disgusted, bored
expressions. I threw myself around another bend, and then threw myself carelessly through the fabric curtain painted to
resemble the rock wall. I was now in a narrow crevice that with only a couple of twists and turns brought me directly up to the
back wall of my home.
I pressed my ear to the wooden panel that covered the hidden entrance, listening with bated breath for any signs that they’d
breached my home yet. I wasn’t sure, and it didn’t really matter anyway, I was going in there regardless. Naomi was mine, and
nobody was touching her.
Flicking the latch, I swung open the door. With my hand on the hilt of my sword, I ducked through in a rush, eyes
frantically searching for my mate. Visions of her dead body, beaten and bloody were spiraling through my mind, only fueling
my fear for her. On high alert for any danger, my focus was mostly on the still-locked and closed front door. I never saw the
weapon coming.
Pain radiated up my spine and down along my tail from the blow and I had to throw myself sideways to avoid a second
one. Then my eyes landed on the culprit, Naomi, wielding the fire poker I’d shaped out of the fang of a Rakworm. She was on
the floor directly in front of the hearth, right next to where my secret passage swung open, fiercely holding onto the fire poker
as though it was a sword.
At least the Sleara hadn’t flown at my head again, he was still perched on her shoulder, and his focus was on the front
door. Good little man, he’d figured out I wasn’t a threat. What was a surprise, was the hole in the floor, the chest with my
mother’s lorekeeping tools standing on the floor right next to it. My clever mate had decided to investigate.
There was a tingle of worry shooting through me, a hint of doubt. Had she ensnared me so she could get to the information
my mother had guarded all her life? I tossed those thoughts aside. Nobody knew those things were there but Naomi had seen
them when I had looked through them earlier. She’d seen me put them away so she had every reason to know where I hid them.
Of course she would investigate what she could when she was trapped in here. In her place, I’d have done the same thing.
“Krashe!” Naomi said as soon as she realized it was me, not an enemy. She tossed the fire poker aside with a clatter and
threw herself toward me, arms spread wide. The sudden move caused the Sleara to dislodge from her shoulder with a screech
and I had to move fast to catch her. She was a warm weight against my chest when I pulled her against me. My entire body
flushed with warmth, with this sense of rightness.
 “Nomy,” I growled into her hair. She was in one piece, and now that I held her, I knew she would be safe. Relief rushed
through me, along with a sense of victory. She had come to me, thrown herself willingly into my arms! And when she tilted her
head up to mine and wound her arms around my neck, the look in her eyes was so… warm.
“We have to hurry,” I said, even though I wanted to bask in that moment as long as I could. I’d only been away for a few
hours, but that was a few hours too many being apart from her. I carefully shifted her in my arms so I could put her back down
on the fur she’d spread out on the floor. I had things to quickly pack before we made our getaway. The door was holding, and
they didn’t even know I was in here.
I still couldn’t keep myself from maintaining a link with her, even when I was hurrying for my armor stand and strapping
everything onto my body. My tail circled her waist, holding her tightly anchored to me. I had this asinine fear that if I stopped
touching her, she’d be ripped from my grasp, even though I could hear my brethren talk beyond my door on how to break it
down. They hadn’t even started breaching yet.
“I’m sorry, this is my fault!” Naomi said, her fingers patting the scales on my tail while she watched me work. “I washed
up. I thought if I just cleaned myself regularly, my scent wouldn’t spread…” I cast a look over my shoulder at her while I
tightened the last strap on my pauldron, cinching the leather shoulder armor into place.
“I don’t think that was it. I could not scent you outside, the Sleara musk-marked near the door which is blocking a lot of
it.” The little green fellow was pacing along the floor just in front of the portal, posturing with a puffed-up chest and exposed
fangs. He was anxious to protect my mate, just like I was. “He wants to protect you too,” I said to her.
She hadn’t been idle while I’d been away, having fashioned some kind of warm upper garment for herself from one of the
furs from my nest. She’d chosen wisely, it was a relatively new addition, which meant that it still strongly smelled of the smoke
and chemicals with which I’d cured it. That too helped to cover her scent. No, I was very certain that something else had
happened that had caused them to discover her presence. I’d been the one that made a mistake, I just needed to figure out what
it was. Had it been Aser?
Her smile in response to my words was a little tremulous, “I’m still sorry Krashe. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble
for you with your Clan.” I shrugged, turning my back on her so she couldn’t see me struggle with the mess of feelings roiling
through me. Was I truly sorry to be leaving? I wasn’t even sure. Sorry that I couldn’t bring more food to all these starving
mouths, yeah, that’s what I felt bad about. But not about leaving, and not about meeting Naomi and having her as my mate.
I yanked the already partially filled backpack from the peg near my door and scooped up the chest with my mother’s
things. Then I added what food rations I had left, padding out the rest with more weapons and furs. I shrugged into the bulky
pack just as the first thud of a battering ram reverberated through my home.
Naomi’s eyes went wide, her fear scent growing stronger but a calm settled over me instead. With a coil of my tail, I
nudged the flagstone back in place over the hideyhole; no need to alert Bitter Storm to any more illicit activities. Then I picked
up Naomi in my arms and turned to look down at the tiny winged rodent still pacing in front of the door.
The thuds of the battering ram were regular now, and the lock I’d fashioned with the heavy bars that rolled in place was
groaning with it. Not long now and it would splinter to pieces, allowing them to get in here. Naomi was going to want to have
the little one with her, and honestly, I was happy that she had a protective companion, even if he was tiny.
I scooped him up with the tip of my tail and flicked him over my shoulder directly into my mate’s arms. He was still
yelping in shock when I threw myself through the secret passage door and started yanking it shut behind us. I kept a beam here,
propped up against the wall that I manually heaved into place in the carved-out brackets. A crude, but very effective, lock that
would slow down the Clan for some time if they did discover the passageway.
“Woah, you are prepared for everything, aren’t you?” Naomi whispered, one arm curled around my neck to hold on, the
other petting the Sleara to calm him down. I grinned in the dark passageway, aware she wouldn’t be able to see much. Yeah,
that was my motto, be prepared. I’d learned that at the coils of my father who was always ready for the worst-case scenario
and always thinking ahead. This passage and the hideyhole in front of the hearth were his doing, I’d only improved them.
I raced through the narrow crevice with Naomi and the Sleara, my shoulder pauldrons flaring too wide to make this
comfortable. Then I lifted the edge of the camouflaging fabric at the exit to check that no one was watching. Here, the smells of
the old latrines were still overwhelming enough that they would cover our tracks and make being there extremely undesirable.
Naomi wrinkled her tiny, soft little nose at the smells but said nothing as I ducked out of the hidden passage and raced for
the warren of tunnels beyond the latrines. Those passages were patrolled regularly, and by skilled sentinels, some of which I’d
trained with growing up. But I knew them like the back of my hand, I knew that once in there, they wouldn’t be able to track us
down.
 Darkness swallowed us up in the tunnels but that soon made way for the faintest of bio-luminescence coming from the
strange ores that traced like veins along the walls. It was enough for my eyes to see by, enough for the sentinels too, so I needed
to tread carefully until we’d left the Bitter Storm territories.
I already had a destination in mind, but that decision was still weighing on me; was it the right one? What would Naomi
think? I had never wondered about the opinion of another before, usually, I was very certain that what I thought was the right
way so I hardly cared. In this case… How she might feel about it seemed the most important thing in the world.
I didn’t slow down my pace until I could no longer hear the sounds of the Hearth Caves for several minutes. There was
only silence in these tunnels now, which meant we weren’t being chased. My muscles were burning from the exertion, my
breathing rapid, but that eased up quickly when I slowed. Now, I became aware of the heavy weight of the chest tucked into my
backpack, and how light Naomi was in my arms in comparison.
“Are we in the clear?” she whispered quietly. Her pale cheeks were flushed with red, her eyes wide as she leaned around
me to scan the tunnel over my shoulder. The little Sleara had scuttled from her arms to perch on my other shoulder, digging his
claws into the hard leather of my pauldrons. They were both still tense and alert, waiting for the sound of a chase. I cocked my
head, listening with them just to be sure before I nodded.
“They are not chasing us. Now we just need to avoid the sentinels as we leave the caverns.” It was at least several hours
of traveling in the dark to escape the mountain via this direction. I knew from my mother’s lore books that even deeper below
these tunnels lay an ancient evil, one of the reasons that Bitter Storm was here to prevent a second ending of the world. As a
youngling, I had searched for a way in, convinced I could single-handedly destroy this evil and be a hero. But I had never
located even a single trace to indicate that more tunnels or ancient relics existed below our home, Orshala Peak.
“Okay,” Naomi whispered quietly, “Then what? Where can we go?” I liked how her question implied that she thought
we’d be going together. Somewhere along the way during this strange courtship, she’d decided she could trust me. I didn’t feel
like I’d given her very many reasons to do so yet, but I was glad.
 Chapter 10
Naomi
I thought I was a goner when that wall with weapons suddenly moved and something with red scales came barreling out of
it. I’d slung my makeshift weapon before I had a proper look, and now I felt really bad that I’d whacked Krashe. Of course, he
was acting like he hadn’t even noticed, again. I wondered if that was just a macho attitude or if that was really the case. I knew
I’d hit him really hard that time, he had to be at least a little bruised, right?
Maybe I just hoped that because I didn’t want to believe how ineffectual I was against these Naga. I knew I was at an
extreme disadvantage, unable to walk and all that, but I didn’t want to be a soft target.
When I realized it was Krashe and not an enemy coming through that secret doorway… I had been so relieved that I’d just
thrown myself into his arms, hugging him like there was no tomorrow. And damn it, when he hugged me back, that was like the
best hug ever, firm, warm, protective. I knew that I had nothing to worry about at that moment, he was here, and was going to
keep me safe. Maybe that mating thing really was true, but how could I possibly be the right match for a big, badass Warlord
like him?
He had been prepared for just this kind of situation I realized when he pulled out an already partially packed backpack
with supplies. The empty bookshelves suddenly made more sense too. He hadn’t been hiding those tablets and scrolls from me,
he’d moved them somewhere while I was sleeping. They couldn’t be in the backpack, but I was now certain he’d stashed them
somewhere so he could recover them later.
Maybe he knew he was a bit of a rebel to his Clan, making gadgets out of wood. Maybe that’s why he was hiding the
evidence when he made his getaway with me. Burning his models and the prototypes, hiding the books, and taking that chest
with the datapads and holographic picture frame. I needed to better understand this, and for that, I needed to get answers,
honest ones.
We’d long ago left the smelly tunnels behind in favor of dark passageways with ethereal streaks softly glowing in various
shades of violet or pink along the walls. He’d given me the all-clear so I knew we weren’t being chased, but Krashe was still
going at a fast pace, dashing through the tunnels with a clear direction in mind. Or maybe he just looked hella confident as he
got us more and more lost in this maze.
“Krashe, can I ask you something?” I started out quietly. It still didn’t feel right to talk out loud, my voice echoed against
the walls in a very creepy way. In the faint light, I could see him dip his chin in my direction, the bone-white horn on his chin
giving him away, along with the glimmer in his beautiful wine-red eyes. “Your people, your Clan, why do they hate me so
much?” I knew the blue ones I’d met the first day hadn’t, they had been excited about our presence.
He was quiet for a few drawn-out seconds, his eyes flicking away from my face to focus on the passage ahead of us. Then
Kiwi made his chirp kee kee noise and I saw how that caused Krashe’s mouth to tilt into a grin. My heart melted for that little
smile, he was a total marshmallow for my new pet.
“To understand that, I must tell you what I know of the history of my people… It’s a long story.” Krashe’s voice was this
lovely deep rumble that I could feel along my chest, where he held me clutched to his body with his powerful arms.
I settled my head against his pectorals with a content sigh, “Go ahead, I’m pretty sure I could listen to your voice all day.”
My smile was wide when that made his breathing stutter for a moment, then he tightened his grip on my body, holding me even
closer. I didn’t know where the confidence had come from to say such a thing, but I was happy about it. This was the new me,
the brave version of Naomi that I could be proud of. Saying things like that fit right in.
“Is that so, my mate?” he drawled smugly. But he didn’t wait for me to respond, diving into that history lesson instead.
“Long ago, the Naga lived in cities and built sky-ships. You saw those images, you know this is fact. Then calamity struck and
we were brought down to a simpler life. Bitter Storm has a long memory, my ancestors charged the Clan with the all-important
task of preventing another such calamity from happening again.”
His gaze seemed to turn inward as he mulled over these words and I was almost holding my breath to see where this was
headed. What kind of calamity did he mean? Did he even know? It just had to have something to do with aliens from outer
space, or they wouldn’t be this hostile toward me.
“My mother was the lorekeeper for Bitter Storm before she was killed. That chest with the strange books and the image
crystal? They were hers. And having them is against the law of our Clan. We were taught that it was technology that brought
about the end times, so we must never touch it again, and destroy it when we find it.”
 Krashe’s voice turned darker when he said the next words, “It is the other Clans that flirt with danger each day, when they
scavenge the ruins of the past for relics they know nothing about.” Then he added with a growl, “They would deserve what they
would bring down on themselves, but they would take Bitter Storm with them. We can’t allow that.”
I frowned as I realized how passionately he believed that and yet… He was the one who had built some kind of
mechanical locking system for his home, and he was the one with scale models of a trebuchet and some kind of water system—
technology he was creating. Not to mention what was in that chest that belonged to his mother; that was definitely contraband
according to him. So why was he so eager to save those items if he truly believed that?
“I see,” murmured in response. “And they think that because I came from that crashed shuttle, I’m here to bring about the
end times? Do I look like a threat to you, Krashe? I can’t even walk, damn it!” I wanted to laugh at how absurd that idea was,
but I knew only too well how differences and ignorance could create hate and fear.
I’d grown up in a society riddled with technology and rife with the chance at education. Yet a trip to the store in my
wheelchair could still net me many glances and even people awkwardly crossing the street so as not to get close to me. For
some, I knew it was just because they felt sorry for me and didn’t know how to deal with that. Others definitely seemed to think
that my condition might be contagious. Hah, as if I could give them a car crash that would cripple them. It was stupidly
ridiculous, the things people thought, just because they didn’t know.
“I know you aren’t a danger to the Clan, Nah-omi,” Krashe said, drawing out my name to capture that elusive A-sound. I
was pleased that he was trying so hard to pronounce my name right, but the ‘Nomy’ thing was starting to grow in me too. It was
like he had a private pet name for me. “And I do not believe that during my mother’s time as lorekeeper, the Clan would have
been quite so hostile either. Things have turned darker the last few years, since the food shortage, and the Queen taking over the
role of lorekeeper.”
Food shortage? I hadn’t seen any evidence of that, in fact, the Queen had been downright fat. It had been really surprising
to see an overweight Naga after all the lean, muscled bodies of the warriors I’d seen. Krashe himself didn’t seem to carry an
ounce of fat on him, he was packed with muscle though, which meant a lot of food or he wouldn’t be able to maintain all of it.
“How come your Clan has a food shortage?” I asked. They lived in one place, inside that huge cavern, and the Clan was
huge and numerous. If I dug deep for my history knowledge on Stone Age people, I was pretty sure that if they were
hunter/gatherers, they had to be migratory to stay with their food sources. They weren’t, so that had to mean they had farms
somewhere, didn’t it? Or was that the issue, their food migrating away from them and no farms to sustain them in the
meantime?
“Orshala Peak is rocky, which means the ground is not fertile like the territory of the Thunder Rock Clan. It means it is
less attractive for bigger herds to migrate through. Our Clan has simply grown too large to be sustained by so small a piece of
land. We need more.” He lifted a hand to gesture in a direction, not that it meant anything to me. “That is why I drew up war
plans to take what we need from Thunder Rock, I will not let the younglings starve.”
Oh boy, that was bad. Because it was clear that while Krashe had willingly made himself a fugitive to keep me safe, he
wasn’t ready to give up on helping his Clan. Somehow, I didn’t think they’d reciprocate that kind of loyalty in the same way.
Right now, if they saw him with me, they’d kill him on sight. I had not a shred of doubt about that, and I didn’t think he had
either.
I suppose it was sort of admirable that he was so hellbent on finding a food source for his Clan, when it was clearly the
young that were suffering the most from this. I just wasn’t sure if all-out war was the answer, why couldn’t they try trade or
something? When I asked him that he scoffed, “We do not offer trade with those that willingly put our entire planet at risk!” Ah,
that again.
“But Krashe… Not all technology is bad. That holographic picture frame in your mom’s chest is harmless, so are the
datapads. They contain knowledge and knowledge is important if you don’t want history to repeat itself. How much of the
knowledge on there did you learn from your mother? And how much did your Clan learn? Do they really know what happened,
or are they just terrified for no reason?”
He curled his lips at me in a snarl, which I took to mean that I should shut up now. This was a really sore subject. I
suppose I shouldn’t poke the bear when I was reliant on him to take me to safety but I still couldn’t resist asking one last
question. “This Thunder Rock Clan, are they blue Naga?”
We came to an abrupt stop and I heard a soft susurrating noise coming from behind Krashe’s wide shoulders. He angled
his head down toward me and his eyes seemed to glow a brighter red than normal as he glared. “How did you know that?” And
now we were back to being suspicious of each other, great! Good job pissing off my one ally.
 I shrugged my shoulders and wished really badly for my wheelchair to retreat to. If only I could be mobile on my own, this
wouldn’t feel so awkward. It wouldn’t feel so much like I was walking a tightrope when navigating conversations like this
with him. I’d have a way to retreat, or at least move on my own, instead of being stuck up close, right in his arms.
“They were there at the shuttle wreck first. Pulling me and the other girls out of the stasis pods and to safety when the
wreck started to sink.” Krashe’s firm, nubbed eyebrows climbed up, which was impressive, considering how rigid they were.
“Then your Clan attacked and I was separated from the rest. One really big blue guy and Kalani went into the river, and I was
left behind on the river bank.”
I flashed back to that moment with a shiver, and it drew Kiwi down from Krashe’s shoulder. He made some soft cooing
noises and curled up against my chest. Spreading his wings as if he was hugging me. That was so darn cute, but I realized that
Krashe wasn’t to be outdone by the little dragon. He raised me in his arms and nuzzled his face against my temple and hair,
“This Kalani, you worry for her?”
Yeah, I did, but it felt more like I was mourning her. There was just no way she had made it, or that blue Naga. There had
been so many spears and arrows thudding into the water. They had to be Swiss cheese after that. I still nodded. How could I
explain to him that I’d only known that girl for all of thirty minutes, and it still felt like she was one of my biggest role models?
She’d just had so much confidence and so much beauty shining out of those eyes. It was her that was making me feel like I had
to live to the very best of my ability right now. It was her that made me feel like I couldn’t give up, because she’d promised me
I’d be alright. I had to make that true somehow.
I felt better after that nuzzle and hug though, and it made me realize that while Krashe and I didn’t see eye to eye on certain
things. He did care for me and that was a good base to start from. He was talking out of ignorance, but that could be fixed, and
that was going to be my goal.
“So where are we going?” I asked, waiting quietly. If I could choose, I would want to look for the other girls, but right
now they were with the blue Naga, the friendly ones, they were safe. It could wait while I figured this thing out with Krashe. It
kind of felt nice to know that it was just the two of us for now, three if I counted Kiwi.
“I know a place where we might be able to find something that could help you walk again,” Krashe said casually. He
seemed completely unaware that he’d just dropped a nuke on me, my mind struggling to comprehend what he was even saying.
Walk again? What? No way.
On Earth, it had been an option. Surgical repairs could be done with a lab-grown spinal cord, or chips could be implanted
to bridge the break. That kind of repair work cost a lot of money though, and my family hadn’t been able to afford it. It would
be utterly crazy to think that such technology could exist on this planet. But as the thought sunk in I realized it wasn’t as insane
as one might think, the Naga had once been able to build spaceships after all, so why not spinal repair devices?
“Krashe, do you realize what you are saying? Wouldn’t that be technology? Isn’t that against your rules?” Why was I
poking that damn bear again? Here he was offering me a miracle on a golden platter and I was going to talk him into changing
his mind? I was crazy! I might have adapted to my injury, I hadn’t been unhappy exactly, and I had learned just how strong my
mind and my will were thanks to it. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t grab onto the chance to walk again with both hands if I could.
It was silent for quite some time, Krashe had picked up his speed again, zigzagging his long, sinuous body through the
tunnels. I still couldn’t tell how he knew which way to go but he never hesitated at any of the crossings we happened on,
steadily moving in the direction he wanted to go. I felt completely turned around at this point and everything looked exactly the
same.
“It is technology that heals… That can’t be bad, can it?” he finally offered thoughtfully. “It will make you safer on Serant,
it is a dangerous planet. My Clan,” he paused and took a deep breath as if what he was about to say came from a difficult
place. “If you were Naga, they still would have rejected you, because of your injury.”
I shuddered and felt a little sick to my stomach hearing that, but I wasn’t all that surprised. In my eyes, I had an extra
handicap to overcome, but I was still fully functional and capable. To a primitive and rather zealous Clan like Krashe’s, I was
probably a weak link they didn’t think they could afford. I wanted to bare my teeth and snarl at that, I wasn’t weak, I was
strong, and I was useful.
Then doubt struck me, as paralyzing as the injury from the car wreck. I was being lugged around in Krashe’s arms, I
wouldn’t be able to keep up with him if he put me down, even though I was strong enough to use my arms to cross a distance
without my braces or wheelchair. With my wheelchair though? I was sure I would have kept his pace.
“That just makes them assholes,” I said, and I was happy when that made Krashe huff out a laugh. I wanted to know more
about this place he was taking me, but my mind was still spinning with the option, struggling to allow myself to hope that
something like that could be true.
“It does,” he agreed, “I know you are perfect just like this.” And I lost a little more of myself to the Warlord right there.
 Chapter 11
Krashe
It was nearly nighttime when I took Naomi through the last tunnel and carried her out into the fading sunlight. My breath
faltered as I took in the sloping landscape and the thick canopy of purple forest that stretched out in front of me, it was a thin
wedge of trees, bracketed by another ridge of a rising mountain slope. Where the land dipped down, everything flattened into
the wetlands that were home to Copper Tooth, purple Naga that hunted the wetlands they shared with the fearsome Rakworm.
I always loved being above ground and I usually found as many reasons as possible to be away from the Clan and out
beneath the skies. Sun or stars, I loved both. Bitter Storm had always been cave dwelling. Even some of our hunting and fishing
were done in the many rivers that ran beneath the surface of Orshale Peak, for instance. But I’d grown up traveling above
ground with my parents; I missed it when I was in the Hearth Caves.
This exit had brought us out on the other side of Orshala Peak, away from Thunder Rock and the coming war. It would
allow us to travel into the unclaimed cold wilds to the north. I’d been there when I was small, traveling with my mother and
father. It was unsuitable for what Bitter Storm needed, too cold, too sparsely inhabited by wildlife to help with our food
shortage.
Worse, unmentionable machines of destruction wandered the cold lands, remnants of the past. Orshala Peak and Bitter
Storm were the bulwarks against these monstrosities, keeping them out of the lands of the other Clans beyond our borders. To
wander into the north without at least a couple of warriors to accompany us at this time of the year was dangerous, but it had to
be done.
Going in this direction also meant that the Queen wouldn’t want to spare warriors to follow us, she’d count on the
revenants to do the job for her, eventually. If I intended to stay in the north indefinitely, that would be true. Even I would
eventually fall to their blades and their flying fire, simply because they would keep finding us and wear me down.
That wasn’t the plan though, I was only taking Naomi there to get her to the old ruins and the relics I remembered visiting
as a child. As soon as I located what I remembered should be there, I’d turn us around and point us directly at the Shaman’s
home. Artek was the only male capable of using a relic to help restore Naomi’s ability to walk and he lived on the threshold
where three territories convened, Bitter Storm, Copper Tooth, and Thunder Rock.
I didn’t know yet what I’d find when we went to visit the Shaman. He was a male trained to use relics to heal, to function
as a lorekeeper like my mother had, and like the Queen now did. Bitter Storm allowed him to live on their borders because his
ability to heal even the gravest of wounds was just too precious. But I’d heard murmurs lately in the Hearth Caves that his
presence was wrong, and that he should be taken care of like we took care of any other relics we found.
“Oh,” Naomi said softly, drawing my attention to her instead of my ever-busy thoughts. “It’s beautiful,” she said and lifted
a graceful arm to point at the flatlands in the distance where the violet Serant sun was setting. A dazzling display of many
shades of purple and pink painted the horizon, illuminating a huge herd of Vakarsa blanketing a section of the wet marshes. My
stomach churned at seeing them, so much food that could fill so many hungry Bitter Storm bellies.
I’d only picked attacking Thunder Rock over Copper Tooth because I knew fighting in the marshes would give us a severe
disadvantage. Thunder Rock’s territory was much more similar to our own, just more verdantly wooded and far richer in
wildlife. Probably just as abundant as the Copper Tooth lands.
“It looks like a giant herd of bison, except I think they might be purple? That is amazing!” I liked hearing the wonder in
Naomi’s voice at the sight of the massive herd of great, six-legged beasts. She was right, it was amazing to see them out there
on the marshes, their wide, many-toed feet well-adapted to crossing the muddy ground as they grazed on the fast-growing
reeds.
“Yes, the wetlands belong to Copper Tooth.” I added for her benefit, “They are a Clan of purple-scaled Naga, with a
ferocious Queen. They are the only Clan on Serant that knows how to work copper to craft their spears from. Hence their
name.” It had been a late-night debate for many warriors over the remnants of a fire whether their ability to forge copper meant
they were crossing a line they should not cross. A moot point in my opinion when they readily scavenged for relics to use.
“So there are more colors? Are all the Clans split along the colors of their scales? Why?” Naomi asked, still gazing with
admiration at the herd in the far distance. I started moving, we needed to put far more distance between us and Bitter Storm
territory before I’d feel safe enough to make camp for the night. I already knew exactly what spot I wanted to reach and if I
wanted to get any rest at all tonight, I’d better hurry.
Her question startled me, as far as I knew, the Clans had always been that way. Mingling just did not occur, or if it did, it
wasn’t seen favorably by anyone. In Bitter Storm, it had never happened as far as our history had recorded, and our memories
were long. I shrugged, because I didn’t have an answer and Naomi started speculating.
“You must have mingled in the past. On those images stored on the cube, there were several pictures of Naga of different
shades together.” I wondered if that meant mingling was a bad thing that had contributed to the downfall of our race, was that
why Bitter Storm kept to itself so much?
When I didn’t answer, Naomi fell silent and just watched her surroundings while I traveled. We angled north, turning our
back on the luscious wetlands and soon we were beneath sparse trees and on rocky terrain. The journey took a lot out of me,
but I was well at home in this environment. Traveling through gullies and climbing steep slopes. If there was one thing Bitter
Storm warriors were good at, it was rocks.
My mate had fallen asleep in my arms by the time I reached the rock bowl with the natural well I’d been headed for. There
were no trees, but the rock was shaped to shelter us from any wind, and the water was cold and fresh. “Get down, Kiwi,” I
said, curling my mouth for the first time around the strange name my mate had given to her pet.
The little Sleara lifted his tiny fanged snout from Naomi’s chest where he’d been sleeping to eye me with a baleful look in
his velvet brown eyes. Then he rose on four legs, bowed his back in the deepest stretch that shuddered up his long, slender tail.
With a flap of his wings, he spiraled to the ground, tendrils of smoke curling up from his nostrils as he huffed. No bigger than
my hand, he was just a little dot of emerald against the slate gray rock beneath my tail.
I didn’t want to put my mate down on the cold stone when she was sleeping so trustingly. I liked how her lashes were
these darker feathers against her cheeks, her nose pink from the brisk temperatures. Hooking my tail beneath the flap of my
backpack, I managed to curl the tip around the fur at the top and yanked it free with a bit of fiddling.
Once it thudded to the ground, I straightened it out with a bit of effort. More effort than should have been necessary
because the Sleara seemed to think my waving tail was an invitation for play. Finally, I carefully laid my mate down, still
keeping Kiwi occupied by flicking my tip around for him to chase.
She didn’t wake and I hurried to shrug out of my pack of supplies so I could cover her with more furs to keep her warm
while I made camp. “Watch her little one,” I warned the Sleara when I was certain she wouldn’t get cold without my body heat.
Kiwi instantly scuttled to her side to park his little body next to her head.
Swiveling his own round face and pointed snout around, nose twitching to do exactly as I’d said. I froze and kept watching
with a bit of surprise. I knew Sleara were clever creatures, but they were still rodents, and with how hungry the Clan was, they
usually went into the stew. Kiwi was far smarter than I’d ever given his species credit for.
I gathered the needed sticks quickly from the surrounding area and then set up the tent I’d fashioned of old, de-haired
leathers. Making a soft bed inside with the remaining furs, I was quickly ready to settle my mate into the much warmer shelter.
Our body heat would warm the tiny space, allowing us to stay comfortable, even at these higher elevations. Naomi would need
it the further we traveled north.
I didn’t crawl into the tent with my mate and her pet until I’d set up trip wires around the perimeter and a snare further
away along a trail of paw prints. I hoped to catch us breakfast while we slept, sparing our rations as much as possible.
My muscles ached when I laid down, I’d carried a lot, and crossed a great distance today. I’d done it on very little sleep
too, considering how many preparations I’d had to make before we could leave, and how early nightmares of Naomi coming to
harm had woken me. I was still worrying about my precious scrolls and clay tablets when I settled myself beneath the furs with
Naomi. Would they remain safe and unharmed from water damage, undiscovered by the Clan, until I could retrieve them?
*
Naomi
I woke up warm, my head pillowed on a slowly rising and falling shoulder. My arms were trapped between my body and
Krashe’s, one of his arms a heavy weight across my waist. I wasn’t used to getting this many cuddles but I really wanted to; I
liked waking up like this. If not for the burning need to go I would probably want to stay there for as long as I could. Yesterday
morning, Krashe had been gone before I woke up.
Wriggling out of his grip was hard, especially because it turned out he’d wrapped several loops of his tail around my legs.
My feet were warm to the touch when I pulled them free, which was a nice change from normal. The blood flow wasn’t the
greatest in my legs and feet because I couldn’t move them; they were always cold.
Kiwi was curled up near the exit of the tiny tent we were in. He lifted his head when I scooted myself through the flap,
cracking the biggest of yawns. When I crawled over the rocky terrain outside in the pre-dawn light, he followed sleepily. Then
he scuttled off into some nearby bushes, tail wagging.
Fine, that gave me some privacy to quickly take care of business. When I was done, I tossed some dirt over the mess and
then located a nearby clean-looking patch of sand to rub my skin clean with. Then the gurgle of water caught my attention and I
couldn’t resist the temptation. I carefully picked my way over the gray rock, scooting along the ground that looked the flattest
and least covered with pointy pebbles and edges.
A small pool of clear water had gathered, a natural spring. I cupped my hands and shivered at how damn cold it was,
drinking a few quick sips and daring to quickly wash up. I was shaking, my teeth clattering together when I was done but I felt
much better now that I was clean. I crawled back to the tent, just in time to catch Kiwi’s proud return, some small feathered
thing in his maw that he was still trying to swallow.
“No,” I said when he tried to follow me inside, tiny feathers drifting down around me. “You can come in when you
finished eating, buddy.” His ears perked toward me then dropped and he settled down on his belly to finish the rest of his meal.
I ducked into the tent, relieved I wouldn’t have to clean up blood and feathers.
Krashe’s deep red eyes glowed in the dark interior of the tent, proof that he was wide awake. He just lifted the furs and
then pulled me close so I could warm up again, not a word uttered, his expression grumpy and sleepy. Despite rising early
yesterday, he was a total sleepyhead this morning. I appreciated that he’d woken but not followed me out, it felt nice that he
wasn’t hovering, thinking that he needed to do everything for me when I could take care of myself.
“Your nose is cold,” he muttered when I pressed it to his chest and let out a deep, content sigh. I had to giggle at the
grumpy tones when his body language said something else, his arms pulling me closer, his tail winding around me. I was toasty
warm in seconds and the way he was always so eager to hold me felt good too, like my disability didn’t matter to him.
Except it did, I realized with a shiver of cold dread. He was taking me someplace where he could ‘fix’ my spinal injury.
I’d been wondering about my Warlord’s motivations from day one, and our rushed escape from his home had made me feel like
I could finally put those worries to rest. Nothing said you could trust a man quite like leaving and betraying his whole Clan did,
just to keep me safe.
But while the idea of being able to walk again someday was a dream that made my own breath stall, just from how badly I
wanted that, the thought that Krashe wanted to fix me because he thought I wasn’t good enough was painful. I was probably
leaping to all kinds of wrong conclusions but I couldn’t shake the feeling. I told myself that if I could help a loved one walk
again, I’d do so in a heartbeat too, this was no different.
Then I recalled how Krashe had talked of his own Clan tossing me out even if I were Naga because of my paralysis. I’d
been sleepy last night, and crashing after all the excitement from before, I struggled to recall if he thought that was a good thing
or a bad thing now. I must have communicated some of my internal struggles by tensing up because Krashe shifted, his head
dipping down to press his face against the crown of my hair.
“What is wrong, my mate?” he murmured, his voice still groggy from sleep. Nope, he was not a morning person, or maybe
he was just really tired. I couldn’t help but find that cute. The tip of his tail curled over my hip, snuck up along my belly
between my breasts, and then nudged my chin upward so I was forced to look him in the eye.
As soon as I saw his face I knew he was well aware he was grabbing the excuse to cop a feel with his tail. There was a
mixture of curiosity and a hint of smugness in his wine-red eyes. They became more serious, and more alert when he saw my
face. “Tell me, Naaah-ohmi,” he insisted, drawing out my name when he did his best to pronounce it correctly.
“You’re not…” I started but then bit my lip, struggling to figure out how to say this in the nicest way, after all he’d done
for me, and there was no denying at this point that it had been a lot. From giving up his Clan and his mission to save them, to
his home, his things, and basically everything he knew. Turning his back on hatred for outsiders, for strangers, and even on
some of his distrust for technology.
But this was the braver, better me, the one that had faced down death so often that she wasn’t going to live life with regrets
ever again. “Look, I just want to make sure you’re not trying to fix my legs because you think I’m not good enough.” As I said it,
I still vividly recalled how he’d spoken of me to his Queen. Abomination, disfigured, a threat to the Queen. Not to be trusted.
He’d said all of that very convincingly, and it still lingered in my mind.
“An abomination, something your Clan would cast out even if I were one of you…” My breathing hitched embarrassingly
on the last words. I’d felt cast out in my own world back on Earth. Unable to afford the treatments that would help me walk
again, unable to work any jobs due to discrimination and lack of accessibility. Watching my brother and parents slave away
while the best I was allowed to offer was to clean the apartment and cook their meals.
 “Are you finished?” Krashe demanded and when I nodded his fingers reached up to curl them in my long, and by now
rather tangled hair. His grip was tight, bordering just on the edge of pain and I started to pull away until I saw the heated look
in his eyes. “You do not get to say those things. Ever. You are Naah-ohmi, my mate, and you are everything I didn’t know I
wanted. Swear it,” he hissed the last words in a drawl that sounded downright threatening and sinister. “You will never say
such things about yourself. You are perfect. You are beautiful, and you are brave!”
I had goosebumps all over, and my nipples tightened into hard peaks in response to his words and the intensity of his voice
and look. My whole chest felt like it was about to burst from all the feelings inside me. The only thing that would have made
this even more over the top was if he’d declared his undying love on top of it. This was almost the same thing and my mouth
had gone dry, my mind struggling to grasp how someone could feel this strongly about me.
“Swear it, Nomy!” he said, his grip on my hair shaking as if he was fighting to contain his own flood of intense feelings. I
opened my mouth instantly, ready to say anything he wanted. Then it felt like a little imp got hold of me. Maybe that was
because all that badass fierceness was disguising so many tender, sweet words. Just a little pull and he freed his hand from my
hair, and then I was leaning up and caught his mouth with mine.
I wouldn’t say I was the one with much experience when it came to kissing. My last real kiss had been during a date a few
days before my accident when I was fifteen, but nothing since then. My friends had faded away while I’d been in the hospital
and later, when I couldn’t afford to join them at college or comfortably fit into their lives anymore. I hadn’t dated even once
since my wheelchair.
But Krashe… It was instantly clear to me that he’d never done this before. I’d caught him by surprise but he didn’t know
what I was doing, freezing in place at first and then just letting me do what I wanted without responding. I pecked him sorta
chastely a second time, then raised my head to meet his eyes. “Okay, I swear.”
He narrowed his ruby eyes at me, his scaly, ridged brows lowering as he tried to figure out what had just happened. “That
was a kiss,” I told him. “It’s a thing we humans like to do…” I smiled, still feeling all full and light and warm. A bit like
champagne bubbles were busting inside my belly. Krashe was sweet, and I was an idiot for even doubting that. Well, maybe not
an idiot, he had the meanest resting face, and the baddest of reputations after all.
“I see,” he said, but it was very clear that he did not in fact see anything. He wasn’t sure at all about that kiss, which meant
I really needed to brush up on my kissing skills. I didn’t let that thought deflate my happy feeling. If I was really Krashe’s mate,
and I was starting to believe that, we’d figure it out together. I wasn’t even all that surprised that he didn’t know what kissing
was, with how harsh and hostile his whole Clan seemed, something as sweet and soft as a simple kiss was obviously beyond
them.
“Thank you, Krashe. I know I’ve made your life very difficult, I’ve caused so many changes. I know that’s not easy.” I
wasn’t sure how I was going to repay him or what our lives were going to be like in the future. Were we going to locate those
blue Naga and the other humans and live with them? Was it just going to be the two of us? I didn’t know anything except that I
was pretty sure I’d have him by my side. I wanted to giggle at the thought that it was hard to ‘wrap’ my head around that kind of
loyalty, decided in an instant, just because the marks on his body lit up. I wanted to bask in that kind of thinking too, I mean,
wasn’t that what every girl secretly dreamed of? A fated mate?
His eyes shuttered a little when he lowered his long, black lashes over his wine-red orbs. His lips parted so his tongue
could slip out, the split tip flicking through the air like a snake might. Tasting the scents that filled it and drawing them back into
his mouth to analyze. “I am strong, I can handle it,” he said. “Strong like you are here,” his tail curled down to tap against my
sternum, just above my breasts.
Pleasure shivered through me at the compliment and I wanted to kiss him again so I did. Leaning up, my hands pressed to
his shoulders for leverage. He wasn’t as accommodating as last time, refusing to lean in so I could reach him. I had to get up on
my elbows and press my chest against his, wedging the pointed tip of his tail between us.
When my lips pressed against his bottom lip, he surprised me by opening his mouth, his tongue flicking out. I gasped,
drawing him in and then Krashe groaned heavily beneath me, his entire body growing taut. “Yesss, let me taste you,” he said.
My world turned upside down in an instant as he rolled me, pressing me down into the furs, pinning me in place while he
focused on licking the inside of my mouth, tangling his long, agile tongue with mine. That’s when I learned that kissing could be
a very flexible concept, and I liked each version Krashe was testing out.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
Terrell must tell her story again to a larger and fuller audience.” In
her remarks Mrs. Terrell told of the obstacles which confront colored
women and girls in their efforts to better their conditions. Often
having to battle against this great evil of race prejudice which yet
lingers in our land and which so often stands in the way of progress
for these women, not only, said Mrs. Terrell, must she struggle with
the handicap of color, but only too often she gets no sympathy from
the white woman, who should be at least willing to give a helping
hand to these colored friends who, like herself, are more or less
looking forward to perfect freedom and all which that means for
womanhood. The speaker thought that right here was a big field for
the American woman’s activities, and hoped for the co-operation of
her white friends.
Mrs. Stanton Blatch, who was in the audience, made a short but
forceful speech for the cause of women, and thought “the vote” would
help along quicker than anything else all reforms of this or any other
nature. The secretary of the Trades Woman’s League also spoke, and
declared that she would do her part toward opening the doors of her
association to all women, whether white or colored.
After a most delightful rendering of several Negro melodies, Mrs.
Hackley told how she so much hoped to establish a school of music
for her people. No one hearing her direct, simple and earnest story
doubted for a moment her ultimate success in this worthy effort, and
she most certainly will have the co-operation of every musical
member of her audience.
The chairman made a few remarks with his usual dignity and
precision, and the first musical morning was voted a real success.
Those having boxes were Mrs. Villard, Mrs. E. W. Harkness, Mrs.
Paul M. Warburg, Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont, Mrs. Robert Ingersoll,
whose daughter, Miss Maud, acted as one of the ushers; Mrs. Ida
Husted Harper, Mrs. Frederick Nathan, Mrs. Frances R. Keyser, Mrs.
Charles W. Anderson, together with many other well-known women,
white and colored.
The arrangements were in charge of Miss Frances Blascoer,
executive secretary of the Association.
 The annual report of British East Africa for the year 1908–09,
which was issued a few months ago, states that the period was not
marked by any salient events, but the Protectorate had made steady
progress in spite of weather conditions somewhat unfavorable to
agriculture. There had been little or no friction with native tribes.
Labor difficulties still exist, but show a tendency to diminish.
European overseers of the native railway laborers have proved far
more satisfactory than the Indians formerly employed.
The report says of slavery:
“The ordinance for the abolition of the legal status of slavery has
worked well and without friction during the year. Altogether 3,593
cases have been settled by the District Courts, and compensation to
the amount of £7,053 has been awarded.”
 WHAT TO READ

PERIODICALS.
Plea for the Conservation of Another Great National Resource. F.
P. Chisholm. Education, November.
Dip of the Tar Brush. M. A. H. New England Magazine, October.
Special Plea of a Southerner. E. Harlan. New England Magazine,
October.
Prince Henry of Portugal and the African Crusade of the Fifteenth
Century. C. R. Beasley. American Historical Review, October.
Excavation of Cyrene. F. W. Kelsey. Nation, October 27.
Diary of Gideon Welles. Atlanta, December.
Cuban Experiences. Frederick Funston. Scribner’s, December.
A Hero’s Conscience. G. Bradford, Jr. Atlanta, December.
 BOOKS.
Wilson, Lady S. D. A.—South African Memories. Longmans.
Shotwell, W. G.—Life of Charles Sumner. Crowell. 733 pp.
Steffens. Alexander H., Recollections of. Doubleday, Page & Co.
572 pp.
Newton, J. H.—Lincoln and Herndon. Torch Press. 367 pp.
Sylvester, H. M.—Indian Wars of New England. Clark. 3 vols.
Haring, C. H.—The Buccaneers of the West Indies in the 17th
Century. Dutton. 298 pp.
Hagood, Johnson.—Memoirs of the War of Secession. State Co.
498 pp.
Deutsch, G.—History of the Jews. Bloch. 122 pp.
Shoemaker. M. M.—Islam Lands. Putnams. 251 pp.
Withers, P.—Egypt of Yesterday and To-day. Stokes. 293 pp.
Addams, Jane.—Twenty Years at Hull House. Macmillan, 462 pp.
Documentary History of American Industrial Society. Vol, IX:
Labor Movement. Clark. 378 pp.
 THE LADY OF THE SLAVE STATES.
Mrs. George Haven Putnam, in a very charming essay in the
Contemporary Review for December, discusses “The Lady of the
Slave States.” She deals gently enough with her subject; she says that
the slave-owner’s wife like everybody else with slavery was blighted
by its curse, but she demolished very effectually the myth of the
gracious fascinating woman of culture who ruled family and estate by
the charm of her personality.
The ante-bellum Southern lady never had much to say for herself
and was in short not “the Gothic saint in her niche” that tradition
pictures, but a kindly little creature surrounded by “Orientalism” and
little better off, so far as opportunities for development went, than
any lady of the harem.
Mrs. Putnam quotes Miss Martineau, who traveled extensively
through the slave States, to show how the system limited the white
women and made them “the greatest slaves on the plantation.”
Patience was the supreme virtue of the ante-bellum lady—they made
the best of a bad state of affairs. Logic she had little or none, and her
up-bringing tended to make her a delightful girl but a middle-aged
woman of only moderate attractions. And while she was often very
kind to her slaves her sensibilities seemed in some measure blunted
by perpetual sight of suffering and injustice.
When the war ended the ex-mistresses of slaves showed how good
was the material that had been buried under the “Orientalism” of the
plantation.
 RACE PREJUDICE IN THE ORIENT.
Race Prejudice: An address by Melville E. Stone to the Quill Club,
New York City.
The best review of this remarkable little pamphlet will be a few
extracts from its pages:
What is to be the outcome? What does all this mean for the future
of the world? Let us view the problem from the political, the
commercial and the moral aspects. How long will the 6,000 soldiers
we have in the Philippines be able to keep our flag afloat among
8,000,000 of natives? How long will the 75,000 English soldiers in
India be able to maintain British sovereignty over 300,000,000 of
Asians? Believe me, these are not idle questions. They are up to us
for an answer, whether we will or no, and upon our ability to make
answer will depend the future of what we are pleased to call our
Western civilization. I would not be an alarmist, and yet I would have
you feel that Macauley’s suggestion of the New Zealander on a
broken arch of London Bridge, sketching the ruins of St. Paul, has
come to be more than an extravagant figure of speech. And I am
convinced that there is real danger awaiting us unless we mend our
ways. It is not the Asian who needs educating; it is the European. I
am not worrying half so much about the heathen in his blindness as I
am about the Christian in his blindness. Asia is awake and preparing
for the coming struggle. And we are doing very much to force the
issue and to prepare her for the contest. For a century we have been
sending at enormous cost our missionaries to all parts of the
hemisphere to civilize. There may be doubt as to the amount of
proselyting we have been able to accomplish; there can be no
possible doubt of the work we have done to strengthen the Asian
people politically and commercially.
We shall never meet the problems growing out of our relation with
the Far East unless we absolutely and once for all put away race
prejudice. I believe the European snob in Asia is distinctly the enemy
of the civilized West. And his coadjutor in this country is a fitting
criminal yoke-fellow. Let me give you some illustrations of what I
mean—cases which came under my personal observation. From
Bombay to Yokohama there is not a social club at any port or treaty
point where a native, whatever his culture or refinement, will be
admitted. At the Bengal Club at Calcutta last year a member in
perfectly good standing innocently invited an Eurasian gentleman—
that is, one who is half native and half European—to dine with him.
It became known that the invitation had been extended, and a storm
of opposition broke among the members. The matter was finally
adjusted by setting aside the ladies’ department of the club, and
there the offending member and his unfortunate guest dined alone.
The next day the member was called before the board of governors
and notified that another like breach of the rules would result in his
expulsion. The beating of native servants and workmen in India is a
daily and hourly occurrence. It formerly was so at Hong Kong and
Shanghai, but Mr. Sprague, the representative of the Standard Oil
Company at Shanghai, told me that since the Russo-Japanese war
the natives would not stand it, and that all beating of them by
Europeans in that city had ceased.
The son of a maharaja goes to England, is educated at Oxford or
Cambridge, is lionized in the West End of London—mayhap he is
honored with an invitation to Windsor. When he goes back home he
may enter no white man’s club; if he be fortunate enough to be
invited to a white man’s function, no white woman will dance or
associate with him; and if by any luck he should marry a European,
he, his wife and his children become outcasts. Although native
troops, like the Sikhs, have shown undying loyalty to the British flag
and on frequent occasions have exhibited courage in the highest
degree, no one of them ever has or ever can achieve the Victoria
Cross.
Socially they are all saying to us: “Stop cheating us, stop swindling
us, stop your treating us as your inferiors who are to be beaten and
robbed.” Japan is crying out, “Treat us fairly and we will go more
than half-way. Leave to us the question whether Japanese laborers
shall go to America to annoy you, and we will stop them. But do not
say that you will admit the lazaroni of Hungary and Italy and Russia,
simply because they are white, and shut us out because we are
yellow.”
 The Sinhalese, natives of Ceylon, while I was in Colombo,
addressed a remarkable communication to the Governor-General.
They said a hundred years ago there was established in the United
States a new theory of government—that there should be no taxation
without representation. “Now,” they said, “we ask a share in the
government of the island. We pay taxes. You may fix a property
qualification and say that no one having less than a thousand pounds
sterling shall share in the government. We shall not object. You may
also fix an educational qualification. You may say that no one but a
college graduate shall take part in the government. We will not
object. In short, you may fix any qualification except a racial
qualification. That would not be fair.” “And what answer have you to
make?” I asked Mr. Crosby Rolles, editor of The Times of Ceylon. “To
meet their request,” he replied, “would mean to turn over the
government of Ceylon to them at once, because there are 6,000 of
them and only 5,000 English men, women and children. We must
stop educating them.”
What do you think of that for a remedy? Personally. I do not think
it will work, any more than I think any rule of arbitrary repression
can endure. I cannot bring myself to sympathize altogether with the
views expressed by Mr. Roosevelt in his recent Guildhall speech. I
take refuge in what seems to me the larger experience and riper
judgment of Lord Curzon of Kedleston, who in July, 1904, was also
given the freedom of the City of London in Guildhall, and on that
occasion used these words: “Depend upon it, you will never rule the
East except through the heart, and the moment imagination has gone
out of your Asiatic policy your empire will dwindle and decay.
“In smug complacency you may close your doors which look
toward Asia, while you open wide those which look toward Europe;
you may refuse the Oriental admission to your schools, while you
accord the privilege to any child of a European; you may pile import
duties mountain high, and raise our standards of living to any pitch
of extravagance; you may build warships without limit, and you may
continue to treat the Asian as legitimate prey. But I am confident
that it will not avail.
“As a soldier, whether at Omdurman, in the Sudan, or on 203–
Metre Hill, at Port Arthur, the man of color has shown himself a
right good fighting man; in commerce he has, by his industry,
perseverance, ingenuity and frugality, given us pause; and before the
eternal throne his temporal and his spiritual welfare are worth as
much as yours and mine.”
 BOOKS
When our readers wish to know where to buy the best books on race and other
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Educational Directory

Howard University
WILBUR P. THIRKIELD, President
Washington, D. C.
The College of Arts and Sciences—Kelly Miller, A.M., Dean.
The Teachers’ College—Lewis B. Moore, A.M., Ph.D., Dean.
The Academy—George J. Cummings, A.M., Dean.
The Commercial College—George W. Cook, A.M., Dean.
School of Manual Arts and Applied Sciences—
PROFESSIONAL SCHOOLS
The School of Theology—Isaac Clark, D.D., Dean.
The School of Medicine: Medical, Dental and Pharmaceutical
Colleges—Edward O. Balloch, M.D., Dean.
The School of Law—Benjamin F. Leighton, LL.D., Dean.
For catalogue and special information address Dean of
Department.

Atlanta University
Is beautifully located in the City of Atlanta, Ga. The courses of study
include High School, Normal School and College, with manual
training and domestic science. Among the teachers are graduates of
Yale, Harvard, Dartmouth, Smith and Wellesley. Forty one years of
successful work have been completed. Students come from all parts
of the South. Graduates are almost universally successful.
For further information address
President EDWARD T. WARE
ATLANTA, GA.

Wilberforce University
WILBERFORCE, OHIO

Opens first Tuesday in September

Located in Greene County, 3¼ miles from Xenia, Ohio. Healthful
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Catalogue and Special Information Furnished.
Address
W. S. SCARBOROUGH, President.

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This institution of learning, established in 1865, has industrial
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The facilities have recently been increased. Other improvements
are being planned that will be completed within the next two years.
Applications should be made several months or a year in advance,
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 The academic year begins on the Thursday nearest the first day of
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Address THE PRESIDENT
Shaw University, Raleigh, N. C.

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Legal Directory

Real Estate and Probate Matters a Specialty

ROBERT B. BARCUS
Attorney and Counselor-at-Law
 Notary Public
Office: Room 502, Eberly Block Columbus, O.

B. S. SMITH
Attorney-at-Law
Offices: Suite 610, Sykes Block
Minneapolis, Minn.

GEORGE W. MITCHELL
Attorney-at-Law
908 Walnut Street
Philadelphia, Pa.

J. DOUGLAS WETMORE
Attorney and Counselor-at-Law
5 Beekman Street (Temple Court)
New York City
Tel. 6222 Cortlandt Cable Address, Judowet

FREDERICK L. McGHEE
Attorney and Counselor-at-Law
Union Block, Fourth and Cedar Streets
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WILLIAM R. MORRIS
Attorney and Counselor-at-Law