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.