There’s a strange, intoxicating scent that keeps stealing my attention. Turning my face into Vruksha’s chest, it floods my nose.
Exhaustion hits me while breathing his scent in. There’s no escape, not right now. Not at night. Not in the dark. Especially weaponless and in a strange land. All my years of training can’t help me here.
I feel useless, and suddenly, exhausted because of it. I settle in Vruksha’s arms and close my eyes.
I don’t want to escape, not anymore. Not while it’s dark.
I will tomorrow.
I can’t give up.
Five
Miscommunication
Vruksha
My female slumps against my chest as we flee to my den. It’s not close by, a day’s travel from where the human base is located, but I can get there if I journey overnight.
Though I contemplate turning back to collect Azsote’s head, I keep moving forward. My honor and pride mean nothing to me right now, not while I have my female in my arms.
She has been sliced up by the whips of sticks and leaves. I smell the tiny dabs of blood on her scrapes.
She is not supposed to bleed, ever, unless it’s her moon cycle. I am not equipped to see my female bleed in any other way. Returning to face Azsote is out of the question. I cannot risk more blood.
There are predators and darkness to deal with. Bloodlust is on my mind despite her wounds, and I hope we encounter bears, or better yet, the forest’s monsters. My female chose another—Azsote, of all nagas. He is a contender like any one of us, but he is not as vicious or as fearsome as me. Instead, he is cunning and quiet.
But Azsote? A growl tears from my throat. She chose him? My bloodlust stems from needing to wipe his existence from this world.
I am lucky to have my spear. A weapon like mine is rare, and it gave me the upper hand against the Boomslang. Azsote could have camouflaged himself within the trees and struck a deadly blow without it.
My eyes flick up.
Azsote could be hiding in the branches above, quietly trailing me. I can’t lose my head in memories and fantasies. He is a dangerous foe from the shadows, a sneaky snake. His coloring is meant for such an advantage. One bite from him will put me to sleep and upend the contents of my stomach. I’ll be knocked out for hours.
My female will be taken from me. I can’t let that happen.
The mere thought of it fills me with tension.
She sighs, settling further into my arms.
Heavy, triumphant warmth invades my chest.
I have never felt this sensation before, this madness that rises when I think of this female. It makes me want to turn back all over again and bash Azsote’s head in for touching her, cut off his tail, and slice off his scaly hide. I would carry the Boomslang’s skull with me always, as a lesson for any male who thinks about stealing my female.
And then I would burn his hide on a pyre until his scales shrivel and become ash, making my female watch.
He touched her and nearly stole her away.
I clutch her closer.
He may have even succeeded if she hadn’t called out for me.
It had to be for me.
Oh, yes.
Her call was for me.
Still, this sensation in my chest pulsates. I want to kill, to claim, to mark my territory with the heads of the offenders and show off my beautiful prize for all to see.
Jealousy...
The word whispers through my head. So this is what it’s like to be jealous…
It’s not a feeling I enjoy. It’s madness and frustration balled up in one. I’m already frustrated. I don’t need to lose my mind in the process.
Not when my world is nearly perfect, and the future is bright. Why can’t I shake it?
I take a short rest and glance down at my female to make sure she is okay.
Her eyes are closed and her breaths are light. She slumbers. Her face is cast in shadows, her nose pressed to my chest, her arms limp.
Tightness strangles my heart, squeezing to the point I’m nearly suffocated. She is everything I have wanted, everything I have fought for this long life of mine. And she is so small, with no scales, fangs, claws, or tail to defend herself with. I am already crazed with paranoia that I may lose her.
And it’s getting worse, having almost lost her to another. On the first day.
She chose him.
My fingers curl.
It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t get a choice. She never had a choice.
Once she’s within my den, she’ll know she belongs to me and only me. I will care for her like a pet, and treat her like a female, a precious rarity. I will show her we are meant for each other. That I am a male, a warrior, and a master, and she is a woman. I will fill her with my spill and mark her with my fangs. She’ll never look at another male again. Human, naga, or otherwise.
And if she does? It will be with revulsion.
The image alleviates some of my jealousy. I tug her sleeping frame closer to my chest, careful not to bruise her skin.
I have a female. A female!
My arms tighten even further. If she bruises, I will kiss them better.
If I have it my way, she’ll never see another male again. She will see me and only me from this night forth. Her mind will be consumed with me; I will make it so. She will want nothing more than to sing my name, licking the excess spill off my scales.
I harden thinking about what’s to come.
She’ll apologize for her choice with her tongue, I decide. My jealousy vanishes entirely knowing how much she’ll need to use it to be forgiven.
My eyes trail over her scaleless face, cementing it in my head. I had taken her in when she stepped off the small ship back
