The Naga Wanderer's Wounded Mate (Serpents of Serant #11)

Prologue

Jasmine

My eyes were on the dragon and the naga hunter in charge of it.

I couldn’t help myself. If I looked away, if I didn’t pay enough attention, I might miss the signal.

The last thing I wanted was to be left behind, even if Haven was a pretty wonderful place.

As far as ending up stuck on a strange, dangerous world far away from Earth, we’d all lucked out.

There was a restlessness coursing through my veins that had plagued me all winter.

I thought it had to do with Jolene and the other girls I’d survived with on the crashed ship still being trapped aboard it.

Now that they were out, that feeling should have settled, but it hadn’t.

I was beginning to believe it was simply part of my nature that had always struggled to settle down.

“Are you still planning to hitch a ride if reinforcements are called?” Kalani asked.

She was nearly impossible to hear when she approached, her stealth skills better than mine.

I’d been fussing with the drying strips of meat by the already-finished curing shed for the past hour, my eyes on the guys and dragon building the second one nearby.

With the air still a little chilled with the last vestiges of winter, nobody had tried to keep me company.

Kalani was not deterred by such circumstances; she was the most badass woman I’d ever met, and I had a bit of a girl crush on her.

She looked like a regal queen as she stood next to me.

Her posture was perfect, confident, and her body decked out in leather hand-tooled by either her mate or Cosima.

Weapons hung from her in various places too, and that included an ancient naga rifle—one that still worked, and with deadly results.

If anyone should have been part of the reinforcements standing by to fly to the crashed ship, it was her.

She’d chosen to stay behind and be part of the force guarding Haven instead.

I shrugged because I wasn’t quite sure if she approved or disapproved of this plan.

At least it appeared she hadn’t told on me yet.

If she had, I was pretty sure some hunter would be watching me.

Zathar’s orders, for my own protection. “I know the ship; they don’t.

I’m a good shot too, and an even better hunter than any of them.

” Well, perhaps not better, but I could keep up, do my part.

Kalani’s expression said she believed me, calm, serene.

There was even a thoughtful nod. Then her gaze shifted, and she turned to watch the guys as they worked to erect the second shed’s tall roof beams. Her mate was with them, his scales glittering like midnight beneath the violet Serant sun.

He’d left his axe at home, but that didn’t make him any less impressive.

There was only one other naga who rivaled him in size: Krashe, the former warlord of the Bitter Storm naga.

Automatically, my eyes flicked across the hillside to where the warlord could usually be found—at the site of the second greenhouse—and, sure enough, he was there.

His head bent low over elaborate plans drawn very precisely with charcoal on leather skins.

He had Vera and his mate, Naomi, with him, and both women were probably overloading him with input he didn’t need at this stage.

His expression remained peaceful, however, and his tail was partially curled around his mate’s growing waist. Another pregnant woman, one of several around the camp.

Not that I minded that, not at all, but it was just another way in which I felt like I didn’t fit in.

The unmated males had been relentless during the winter, trying to woo me and the four girls who had managed to escape the crashed ship.

For over three months, they’d been pretty persistent and very sneaky, finding ways around Zathar’s very strict rules about approaching us.

At least all it took was an actual touch to make them move on, and I’d taken the gamble very early on to let them all try.

In fact, I’d made it my business to shake the hand of every newcomer, just to make sure they knew not to bother.

Which was why I felt pretty comfortable sneaking along on this trip.

In a sea of guys vying for a human mate, I was off the list.

I checked the dragon again, then my bag and bow waiting nearby, so I could race into action just like everyone else.

Zathar had told me I couldn’t go, for my own safety.

His rules were usually fair; I didn’t for a minute doubt he’d made the decision with only my best interests at heart.

I was going to try to leave anyway. The restlessness, perhaps just boredom, and a little hint of guilt over not having done more while Jolene was rescuing everyone on the ship. All of it was weighing on me.

The whistle that cut across the clearing was so sudden and sharp that I froze when I should have been moving.

That was it, that was the call for immediate backup at the crashed ship’s site.

The dragon dropped the beam to the side like it was on fire, and the males scrambled into practiced, cohesive action.

To fit into that choreographed dance looked almost impossible, but I was going to try anyway.

Snatching up my weapons and pack, I gave Kalani a nod, and then I broke into a run.

Ducking around the back of the finished shed and cutting across the building site of the new one, I raced for the dragon’s massive golden flank.

I’d picked my route carefully so I’d be entirely out of sight of Zathar, who was at the entrance to Ahoshaga.

At the back of the dragon, I was also lost in the hustle and not immediately visible to Zsekhet, the dragon rider.

I was certain Zathar would have told him the exact number of people in this party. My name wouldn’t be on the list.

The trick was convincing the naga hunters hustling onto the dragon’s back that I belonged there.

Once we were up in the air, I was pretty certain they wouldn’t stop for anything.

It was very lucky that Joxra was the last one in line, and he said nothing as he boosted me up the dragon’s flank.

The former Bitter Storm warrior had a bit of a reputation as a hothead who clashed regularly with Zathar.

Even if he knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, he might not care.

Joxra had arrived here with Cosima and Zsekhet when they escaped Bitter Storm territory.

He’d come with several friends, as well as a small female naga baby and two slightly bigger male younglings.

I’d first assumed they were his children.

He had no issue leaving the baby in Farah’s tender care, though, acting more like an uncle than a father.

That’s when I’d learned they were the children of his dead brother.

He thought nothing of letting them be raised by the community rather than a single parent.

Just as he thought nothing of leaping onto the dragon’s back for what could be an extended—or even deadly—mission away from them.

I liked being untethered, free to go where I wanted, but in his place, I didn’t think I would be so casual about it.

It was, however, not my place, and we were from very different cultures. I tried not to judge.

I worked rapidly to secure the buckles on my pilfered flight harness, like I was supposed to.

Something I’d asked Cosima to practice with me before Zathar had decided I couldn’t come.

The dragonrider’s mate was much quicker at it than I was, but my buckles were still secure in no time.

Joxra was faster, and he leaned in and silently yanked on each buckle to check it.

I tried not to fume inside, not to consider that patronizing.

Any other time and place, what he did was common sense.

In fact… I twisted and started yanking on his buckles in turn, my bold act met with a husky chuckle. “Thank you, female.”

“Hey,” a voice went up, but it wasn’t coming from anyone on the dragon itself.

I could feel it bunch beneath my thighs as the beast gathered itself to leap into the air at the command of Zsekhet.

The call came from the ground, but close by.

I looked, though every instinct in me told me to duck low and hide.

Kalani’s mate, who was also staying behind, had approached and was frowning up at me with a gaze full of accusation.

“You’re not supposed to be there!” he said.

Kalani came to my rescue before her mate could turn toward Zsekhet to stop him from taking off.

Her eyes met mine once before she grabbed hold of Iave’s shoulder and pulled him down, murmuring in his ear.

Heart pounding in my throat, I looked up, past the line of naga hunters seated along the dragon’s spine, all the way to where Zsekhet rode at the base of the beast’s long neck.

Had he seen this? Was he going to throw me off anyhow?

Joxra’s hands had already slid to the buckles holding me in place, hovering there as he waited to see what Zsekhet would do, just like me.

“Sorry, human. It was a good attempt,” he whispered, proving he knew full well I wasn’t supposed to be there.

He definitely scored points for that, but the red-and-orange-flecked male wasn’t my mate, and he never would be.

With his streak of insolence, he might have been fun, but I liked having him as a friend in my corner even better.