Page 14 of The Naga Maverick’s Determined Mate

My dragon was as desperate to follow my mate into the belly of Serant. It was the sight of him, clawing at rock and risking a total collapse of that tunnel that brought me back. “Ses no!” I shouted, bucking off the Shaman so I could leap for the nearest belt on Ses’s body. I was but a drop in a bucket to the strength of the beast, but yanking with all my might on the belt crossing his neck did get his attention.

His head rose, the snout as long as my torso. Turning on his long, agile neck, that maw snorted scorching hot smoke out all over my body. Then it opened and for a brief flash I worried my friend was about to blow fire. All that came out was a mournful lowing sound, a cross between a howl and a cry. “Yeah, I know Ses. But we’ll get her back.”

Letting go of the belts, I opened my arms wide around his nose, hugging the sensitive tip to my chest. “I know you like her, I do too. But she’s strong, our mate, she’ll be fine. How much do you want to bet that when I get there, she’s subdued that asshole with a pouch of Exar berries?” My words though silly, soothed the beast and he finally lowered his raised claws from around the cave opening and sank to the ground.

Keeping a palm on his head, I turned to face the Shaman hovering behind me. The male was smeared with purple mud and several broken branches dangled from his long pale hair. A satchel bulging with plants hung crookedly from one shoulder. He should have looked ridiculous but he managed to maintain his aura of calm elegance. A deeply worried expression creased his fine brow.

“I will fetch supplies and a map of the tunnel system. She is strong and he does not wish to harm her. You’ll find your mate in time, don’t worry Zsekhet of Serqethos.” With those words, he spun away and raced back toward his home, leaving me equal parts frantic for my mate and worried over his statement.

Why did he say Zsekhet of Serqethos? Did he know I wasn’t an outcast but a spy? Had he spoken to the Shaman there, Levant? It didn’t matter, I had more important things to focus on, my mate was in danger. I fidgeted at the entrance to the cave, leaning into the dark opening to get an idea of where it went. It was dark and damp, just like the last one, not my favorite.

Cosima was in there, I wasn’t going to let her down. I shouldn’t stand here waiting for the Shaman, I should already be racing through that tunnel. Ses nudged his head against my shoulder, impatiently growling. “Yeah I know, I should go. Screw maps or supplies. We won’t let him get far, in and out.”

I was about to duck into the tunnel when I heard a whistle. Looking over my shoulder I saw white scales through the trees, the Shaman. Fine. I’d wait for him, and then I was going hunting. This time, I’d make damn sure that asshole didn’t survive.

Chapter 9

Cosima

I couldn’t really believe it, but I was feeling lonely now that everyone but me had returned to Outcast Haven. I was the only visitor left at the home of the Shaman, and he was a quiet person who kept to himself most of the time. He could understand me, but I couldn’t understand him.

At first, with all the aspirants crowded outside in a quick improvised camp, I’d felt a little skittish again, but for a different reason. Those with new implants wanted nothing more than to test them out so I kept being asked all kinds of questions as they tried to get me to talk. I’d taken to hiding in my office the first day, just to get some rest. Where was Zsekhet when you actually needed someone to run interference? I knew he would if I so much as asked.

Now that he was flying the last of them home, I finally dared to catch some sunshine. Letting the last rays of the day warm my skin while I sketched the outside of the greenhouse dome. For once not sketching to fine-tune the blueprints for Krashe to work with, but just for pleasure. Sketching out the elegant lines of the dome with the charcoal pencils the Shaman crafted.

With a black smudged finger, I touched the pretty golden bangle around my wrist, carved or molded to follow a soft, sinuous line. It could resemble water, or maybe the curl of a snake tail through the grass. Whatever it resembled, it had been polished expertly smooth and shimmered even after I’d smudged it. It was as if the gold itself absorbed any blemishes, or maybe it repelled them.

Zsekhet had made this. I’d learned from Krashe and Naomi that the golden Naga, like him, lived in the desert and crafted jewels that were eagerly traded for with all Clans. It seemed a universal trait that each Naga Queen coveted a horde of the jewelry that came out of Serqethos. It was that bracelet, crafted of gold, that made it obvious to me that it was Zsekhet who was courting me. Zsekhet was bringing me gifts in the dark hours of the night, leaving them for me to find in places only I frequented. Like my bedroom or the small office.

I’d even once found a clay jar of flowery oil in the bathroom, something clearly intended to use after bathing. Like at Outcast Haven, the Shaman had running water, showers, and actual toilets. It was going to forever be a total win in my book that there were civilized places like that on this planet, and I got to live at one of them.

The bangle had come with a scrap of leather covered in scribbled x’s and I saw the hand of Naomi or maybe Min-Ji in that. A note full of kisses that we hadn’t yet shared because I hadn’t dared to allow a real touch yet. I was starting to think that I wanted to, but now I was worried to discover that Zsekhet wasn’t my mate. I had started to dream that he was mine, and I didn’t hate that at all anymore.

Glancing up at the sky, away from the greenhouse and my sketch, my breath caught in my throat. There were Zsekhet and Sesethul, winging in from across the mountain, a golden shimmer painted with purple glimmers in the sunset. It was beautiful, and I suddenly wished I had colored pencils instead of charcoal to draw with. Or a com device with which to snap a picture; what a lovely sight.

I was so focused on the sight of Zsekhet approaching on his dragon that I didn’t hear him until it was too late. The dragon suddenly roared, rattling the trees, the sound echoing between the mountains. I startled and dropped the pale leather I’d been using as a canvas. Then arms flung around me in tight bands and I was suddenly rushing through the air, thrown over a shoulder, and already we were racing toward the woods before I even registered the color of the slate-blue scales.

“No! Let me go!” I yelled, cursing the bastard a thousand ways over, screaming and kicking, my fists punching against his lower back as hard as I could. I recognized that color, it was the same guy that had bothered me at Haven, the one they had cast out for what he’d done. Then another horrible thought struck me, I’d seen these scales once before that even.

I hadn’t made the connection because those first days on Serant were a bit of a blur to me. I’d been so shocked and scared, stunned by the betrayal of the UAR. Finding myself in a kind of hell instead of back on Earth with my family, like I’d been promised. But these scales, I’d seen them at the Thunder Rock village, where we spent several days locked up in a shed. The male had touched me inappropriately then too.

It was no use struggling against his grip, his arm was clenched tight around my waist, my legs pinned to his chest by the other. When we ducked into a tunnel, I knew I was in serious trouble. Zsekhet had been so high up, had he even seen what had happened to me? I shuddered, why was I even thinking of him for rescue? I’d been through that before, it never panned out as you hoped. I had only myself to rely on now; I had to find a way to escape.

But when I moved my hands and realized my sore fist still gripped a thick piece of charcoal, I reached out for the tunnel wall and ran it along the stone anyway. Zsekhet could use the marks to find me, to track me down in here. Or I could use them to find my way back out when I escaped, either would work but I was determined to make it the latter.

Soon, I realized that without the charcoal marks, I would find myself hopelessly lost in this dark. The Naga holding me weaved through tunnels, ducking left, then right, seemingly spinning us in circles as we went. He was doing his very best to disorient me and shake off any possible trackers. My stomach dropped as my chances of getting out of here dropped. What was he planning to do with me? Force me to mate with him? That seemed likely and I really wasn’t liking the sound of that. What had I done to make him fixate on me? Was it just because I had the first pair of boobs he’d felt up?

As fast as we were racing through the near dark, I thought he was never going to stop going. The only hints of light came from pink or violet veins of some kind of strange, bioluminescent ore that glimmered at intervals on the walls. I wondered if it was the same kind of stuff the crystal lights in Haven and the Shaman’s home were made of.

I was thrown from his shoulder so suddenly that I yelled in fright, flying through the air before landing roughly on a pile of furs. They covered a nest of branches, moss, and leaves, similar to the beds the Naga at Haven built. This one smelled of damp and rotting leaves, the furs stale and musty or still sharply smelling of smoke or blood. Fresh skins and very old ones combined, I didn’t like it.

It was dark, I could only feel my way around the bedding, cringing when I imagined running into the snake tail of the bastard that took me. I tried to remember his name but it wouldn’t come to me, surprising me since the color of his scales had made a lasting impression. The others had told me who he’d been, about his banishment. Why didn’t I remember?

Light flared to life in front of me and I groaned as it stung my eyes, blinding me even more. I threw my hand up to peer through the gaps in my fingers, squinting to try and make sense of where I was. With who I was.

The chamber was circular, with a single exit. In its center, a radiant glow emanated from a portable space heater—a familiar sight, reminiscent of ones Zathar and Corin had used in the past, though we hadn’t used one at Haven so far. Hovering beside it was the Naga that had abducted me, half-crouched next to the light with thin white eyelids slid sideways over his eyes, shielding him from the glare.

Yeah, that was the same guy that had bothered me back at Haven, and the same one that had fondled me at Thunder Rock, before they had cast him out, and I remembered that his name was Scar’at. I growled, see, this is why accepting all outcasts at our gate was a bad idea. How could we feel safe in our homes when criminals like him were getting a second chance? And now he held me captive, how long did I have before he tried to force me?