Page 13 of Sins of His Wrath (Myth of Omega: Wrath #2)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“ T hirty years ago, I stood before you as I do now, burning with a single purpose: to lead you to safety, to build a future where our children would not know the hunger of war, where we would live long enough to grow into elders who would pass in peace, and where no man or woman would live in constant fear. I swore upon the might of my dynasty, upon the blood that runs through my veins, that I would protect this city—our home. I swore we would not merely survive and thrive, but rise as an undefeatable power.

“For decades, I have kept that vow. Through famine and attacks, through battles fought in the dust and betrayals whispered in the dark, I have held this city back from ruin. I have stood in the fire so you would not burn. I have bled so you would not fall. I have fought so you could live.

“But several weeks ago—” His voice dropped, the weight of his words pressing upon the crowd like the first rumble of a coming storm. “—my promise was broken.”

Akoro’s gaze swept over his people; his warriors, the mothers clutching their children, elders leaning on their staffs. They had all come. The crowd stretched beyond sight, no doubt reaching to the farthest nnin -boulders at the edge of Onn Kkulma city itself.

“A rogue nnin-eellithi breached our barriers, defied our defenses, and in a single night, tore a wound through our capital that may never fully heal. We lost our homes. We lost fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. We lost friends and warriors. We lost a piece of ourselves.” His voice, rough and steady, surged through the crowd. “But I ask you this—do we break? Do we cower? Do we bow our heads and allow devastation to swallow us?”

An immediate roar of voices answered, a rising tide of anger, of pain, of defiance.

“That’s right—no!” Akoro’s voice rang out, unwavering as tempered steel. “We are Ssukku?rian ! We suffer, but we still stand. And we will rise again.”

He let the roar swell, a storm of voices thundering across the square, shaking the air, shaking the ground, shaking the very bones of the city itself. Let them feel their power. Let them remember who they were. Then, as the fervor reached its peak, he lifted a hand, and silence fell like a blade.

“But make no mistake—our suffering was no accident,” he said finally. “The blood spilled has a cause.” He lifted a hand, pointing to Naya standing in the middle of the stage. “And she stands before you now.”

The shuffling and low muttering among the crowd fell away. Everyone stood still and silent, their eyes on his tiny princess, who stood alone in the center of the stage.

She looked impossibly small against the vastness of the platform, the hood over her head already a morbid sight as the crowd examined what they could of her. On the far side of the stage, the seven soges , nobles who led seven districts in the region,at in a row along the edge, staring at her.

Akoro forced himself not to let his gaze linger. He couldn’t afford hesitation now. His voice rang out, cutting through the silence, sharp and precise. “This girl is the culprit. She is an Omega from the forests.”

A murmur of alarm rippled through the gathered mass. Whispers and sharp glances exchanged in obvious surprise.

“We know there are still many bandits out there who would kill, steal, and burn for the chance to claim an Omega. This one escaped them.” He spoke firmly, measured and clear. “She fled. She ran through the Sands and found herself at our gates. And came seeking sanctuary. But in doing so, she led the nnin-eellithi straight to us.”

Akoro let his words drift among the crowd for a moment before continuing. “She is the one to blame,” he said. “But it was not her intention. I present her before you and our allies, so you may see her for yourselves. She is young. She is frightened. And she wishes to return to the forests she came from. I am inclined to follow our laws on this matter and move forward with healing and repairing our city.”

The crowd was quiet, muttering and shifting.

One of the soges, Soge Mansa, rose from his chair and strolled to the center of the stage.

Akoro stood in front of the makeshift throne that had been made for the platform and watched him. What the fuck was he doing?

The man stopped a few feet from Naya, scrutinizing her, and Akoro reined in the urge to storm over and break the man’s neck.

“Why does a hood cover her head?” Soge Mansa asked.

“Omegas are not part of our society,” Akoro answered. “Her identity is of no use to us.”

Mansa made a noise in the back of his throat. His head titled as he looked at her legs. “What is your name, young Omega?”

Akoro almost roared. How dare he speak directly to Naya. Swallowing, keeping his face passive and his breathing calm. He had to control himself or Naya would be in danger. He lowered to his seat.

Thankfully, she couldn’t answer because she couldn’t understand him. “She hasn’t spoken since we caught her,” he said. “You see how she trembles. She is scared.”

Mansa’s eyes still roamed Naya’s body, then his eyes flicked up to Akoro’s. “Have you seen her face?”

“No.”

Behind Soge Mansa, Soge Otenyo rose from his seat and walked to the center of the stage to join him, displeasure on his face as he took in Naya. “How young is she?”

“I don’t know. My staff guess about fourteen.”

“That’s old enough to know the law,” Otenyo said.

“Is this the normal size for a fourteen-year-old Omega?” Mansa asked. “She has a lot of… shape.”

“No one would know.” Akoro forced himself to keep the bite out of his voice, but he wanted to roar with his entire chest. “And it doesn’t matter.”

Mansa was quiet for a moment. “Since she is out of the forest and away from the other Omegas, I say we keep her.”

Everything in Akoro stiffened. “Keep her?”

Mansa shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind taking her to my district. This is a rare opportunity?—”

“No.” Akoro spoke so forcefully, Mansa hastily straightened, as though suddenly realizing who he was talking to. He held his hands up. “No offense, great King Sy. I’m simply offering to punish her as needs be.”

“She doesn’t need to be punished,” Akoro shot at him. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“She cannot be allowed to cause such terror and get away with it.” Soge Otenyo’s voice was low and forceful. He stood glaring at Naya’s hood, cheeks hollow, his mouth tight with controlled anger.

“I agree,” Mansa said. “It is rare to capture an Omega. We should punish this one to ensure our message is clear to the others.”

Akoro ignored Mansa and kept his eyes on Soge Otenyo. Known for his raucous sexual appetite and the depravities it led to, Akoro could already tell what Mansa wanted. If Naya wasn’t covered in the protective mud, Mansa would already be trying to fuck her.

But Otenyo’s interest was unexpected and alarming. A fierce Alpha who reveled in cruelty, Otenyo was dangerous. His dark eyes were full of malice, a snarl curled on his lip.

“She came into Onn Kkulma and killed many of your people,” Otenyo said sharply, dragging his eyes away to meet Akoro’s. “How can you not want her dead?”

Otenyo's words hung in the air, and the weight of every eye in the square pressed upon Akoro. The heat of the day had grown oppressive, the sun beating down on the gathered masses until sweat gleamed on their foreheads. But it wasn't just the heat making his blood simmer.

Otenyo continued, his harsh voice carrying across the crowd. "Death is what our ancestors would have demanded. A slow death, beneath the desert sun—an offering to the Voices." His fingers curled into fists at his sides, knuckles white with barely contained rage. "Let her writhe in agony as our people did when the nnin-eellithi tore through our streets."

The crowd shifted uneasily, a new ripple of whispers spreading like wind through grass. Akoro sensed their fear, their anger, their desperate need for justice, but beneath it all, threading through his veins like molten steel, was the primal urge to tear Otenyo's throat out for daring to threaten what was his.

He forced his voice to remain steady, measured, his words resonating across the crowd with the authority his people preferred. "The laws regarding Omegas were written in blood and sealed with the signatures of the remaining Dynasties. They must be returned to the forests, unharmed. This is not a matter for debate."

Otenyo's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Times change, great King Sy. The old ways, the old rules, the old Dynasty..." He spread his hands wide, encompassing the crowd, the city. "They failed to protect us, didn’t they?"

A dangerous murmur of agreement rippled through the gathering. Akoro's jaw clenched, a quiver jumping beneath his skin. Was the crowd's loyalty wavering, threatening the balance of power? Otenyo had chosen his moment well.

"Then let the people decide." Otenyo's voice rose, carrying to the furthest edges of the square. "Let them choose whether to cling to laws that leave us vulnerable, or forge a fresh path with their own justice."

The suggestion sent a chill down Akoro's spine despite the scorching heat. Not only did letting the people decide put Naya at serious risk, but Otenyo was openly challenging Akoro’s authority in front of his people. It was offensive. Akoro observed the soge, trying to see if this was some kind of manipulation to challenge his rule. However, if that was the goal, it didn’t seem like it. There was no calculation or manipulation in Otenyo's eyes, just fury. Maybe his anger was causing him to be reckless, to push the boundaries.

"A vote?" Akoro's voice was sharp. "This is an unusual request, Soge Otenyo. Am I to think you’re trying to undermine the foundations of my governance?" He rose from his seat and walked a few steps onto the stage, letting his height and presence expand.

Prillu stepped forward. “Soge, this isn’t an appropriate time to make such suggestions.”

Akoro resisted turning his glare on her. What the fuck had taken her so long to address him? She should have intervened immediately when the soges rose from their seats. That was her fucking job.

“I only seek justice,” Otenyo bellowed at her. “As do many of the people here. If most of us would prefer this criminal punished, then I see no reason to follow an old law that no longer has any bearing on our lives right now.”

The crowd stirred again. It was difficult to tell how they truly felt about what the soge said, but he wasn’t just challenging the old laws—he was challenging Akoro.

Akoro remained as still as stone. “You wish to use one of your votes now?”

Otenyo’s face tightened. Public votes were precious to the soges—each one shaped the trade, law, and survival of their district, and they had only two a year. To call a vote now was to lose influence when it mattered most. He glanced back at Naya. “Fine. I will use one of my votes now. I know the Ssukkurian people will vote my way.”

For a moment, Akoro considered drawing his sword and driving it into the man’s neck. Otenyo had always been difficult, but this was boarding on treason. Otenyo’s willingness to discard the very laws Akoro promised to uphold was an indirect strike against the Sy Dynasty. But Otenyo wasn’t an easy man to get rid of so easily, and if Akoro killed him now, the city would suffer from the loss of a big district at a crucial time. He couldn’t allow the region to be politically unsettled right now—not when he had to focus on rebuilding his city… and Naya.

Yet he couldn't back down from the vote. The crowd was watching, waiting, their collective breath held. If he refused, it would make him appear weak, afraid. And he fucking wasn’t. Turning to face his seat slowly, he held Otenyo’s gaze too long to be comfortable for him, and then returned to his seat.

"Very well." Akoro's voice boomed across the square. “Our law states that in short notice votes, you may speak with your bodies. Those who believe we should disregard the old laws and have this Omega suffer for attracting the nnin-eellithi into our city face forward. Those who wish to honor our ancestors' laws about Omegas, turn your backs.”

For a moment, nothing moved, the stifling air itself seemed to still. Then, slowly, like a wave gathering strength, people began to turn. First one, then another, then dozens, hundreds, until almost all the crowd stood with their backs to the stage. A sea of rejection to Otenyo's bloodthirst.

Akoro didn't allow himself to show relief, but the tightness in his chest eased slightly. “The Ssukkarian people have spoken.” He spoke each word with precision and finality and pride. “The Omega will be returned to the forest.”

He gestured to his guards, who moved forward with servants to escort Naya from the stage. As she passed him, her small form nearly lost in the protective huddle her escorts formed around her, he caught the faintest trace of her anxiety, and it made his insides stir restlessly. She needed to be comforted, told she’d been good, tucked into him tightly. Being in his bedroom without her had been a torture he never thought he’d feel.

But he dragged his attention away. Something dangerous had almost happened, and it caught him by surprise—a position he never liked to be in. As Yashol closed the event, speaking to the people about additional organized help for the injured, he covertly watched Otenyo, who was back in his seat.

The soge’s face was carefully blank, but his eyes burned with barely contained fury. He had lost his attempt to subvert Akoro’s will and lost one of his votes, but he’d made the attempt. And that could be enough to start something dangerous.

“What the fuck was that with Otenyo?” he growled at Prillu afterward, as they made their way back inside the palace.

“I don’t know,” she muttered. “I can only guess someone was hurt in the attack that he hasn’t declared.”

Akoro stilled. “Like a spy? He had spies in the city?”

Prillu shrugged. “That or family he doesn’t want to claim. His reaction was emotional and over-the-top, considering he was willing to lose a vote.”

Akoro made a noise in the back of his throat and kept walking. That made sense. “And why did you allow it to get to that?”

Prillu dipped her head. “I apologize, my king. In the arranging of the announcement, he was reasonable and calm. His behavior caught me by surprise.”

“Then you are not fit to be working, Prillu.” Impatience and annoyance fanned Akoro’s irritation. “He openly defied me in front of the people and both of them got too close to the princess.”

Prillu slowed, turning to him. “I allowed them to get up from their seats because you needed some defiance on this matter, someone to disagree with you.”

Akoro slowed with her, frowning. “Explain.”

“If you had said that the Omega must go back to the forest without a chance to reaffirm and debate the old laws, many may have resented it. The argument that Otenyo made out loud would’ve been whispered around the city for weeks or months and provided a ripe environment for dissent. I could see it in the faces of the crowd. If the soges hadn’t disagreed, I would’ve spoken up myself to disagree with you just so you could reaffirm your commitment to rebuilding our culture again.”

Akoro thought back for a moment and then nodded his head. “The people needed to be convinced that I’m still keeping my promise.”

Prillu nodded. “Yes. That, and the imagery of two powerful Alphas threatening a small defenseless Omega girl on the stage was powerful, my king. It was a reminder of why the old laws are important to uphold. The vote was a risk, but I was confidant it would unite your people in this context, and at this crucial time.”

Smart. Akoro exhaled, allowing his agitation to soften. She had thought this through. “All right. Good work, Prillu.”

She nodded, and they both began walking again, navigating through the palace. “I admit I’m a little concerned about Otenyo, though,” she said after a moment. “He is usually smarter than that.”

Akoro growled low in his throat. “If he truly lost someone, then he was emotional and only thinking of revenge. Monitor him and his people. Make sure they return to Ntorkkan. And be ready for tomorrow. The princess has earned one of her precious days to save her empire.”