Page 17 of Sins of His Wrath (Myth of Omega: Wrath #2)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

N aya paced her chamber, her mind tangled with questions.

The wild magic here—the nnin-eellithi —was once like the wild magic of her land. That realization unsettled her. Did that mean they were the same? Even though the sliver that came with her had been absorbed into the wastelands, the magic she'd felt in the desert had been different. It possessed distinct personalities, different moods—almost like separate entities rather than facets of the same force.

Mother Freya had said that these were actually different kinds of magic, but why would different kinds of wild magic exist in the desert? It had to be connected to their origin. A chilling thought seized her. What if the magic in her land eventually transformed in the same way? What if the information she learned here became necessary at some point to help own people as well as Akoro's?

The people of Saderthorne had been begging her to do something about the wastelands straying from its borders, becoming more unpredictable, more dangerous. What if this was how it had begun here? What if this was a glimpse into her empire’s future?

She needed answers.

Naya stopped at the window, pressing her palm against the smooth stone frame. The view of Onn Kkulma stretched before her. The warm hues of the city were slowly returning as it was rebuilt. The guilt that surged every time she saw the destruction was getting harder to ignore. What if this land and hers could learn from each other? Help each other? Akoro wasn’t interested in that but that’s what seemed to make the most sense.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

Prillu stood in the doorway, her usual pristine appearance slightly rumpled, the shadows beneath her eyes more pronounced.

"Are you ready to return to the archive?"

"I need to speak to Akoro." Naya said, stepping into the corridor.

Prillu’s expression barely shifted, but her voice was clipped. "He is busy with his duties. I will inform him you wish to speak once he is available."

Naya exhaled and nodded.

They moved through the corridor, their footsteps echoing against the marble. After a few moments, Naya realized something—they were alone.

Her steps slowed. "Where are my guards?"

When they’d stopped for lur ennen earlier, no one had escorted her back to her room either. While she was pleased she was no longer being shepherded everywhere, it was a strange development. Akoro had made it abundantly clear that she was still his captive.

Prillu didn’t so much as glance at her. "The zmola has removed them."

Naya glanced at her. From the way she said it, it was clear Prillu did not agree with his decision. "Why?"

"I do not question the zmola’s decisions," Prillu said, her voice tightening almost imperceptibly.

Naya slowed, and Prillu matched her pace. That brittleness she’d noticed in Prillu was still there, a tension that seemed permanently etched into her shoulders. It wasn’t just exhaustion—it was something deeper.

“Prillu, what happened to you?" Naya asked, her voice softening.

Prillu started, her eyes swiveling to meet Naya's. "Princess?"

"Something happened," Naya said, watching Prillu closely. "You’re different."

Prillu turned to face forward abruptly, inhaling sharply. “Everything is different now, princess," she said somewhat stiffly, her voice low. She glanced at her, and finally emotion bled through her guarded expression—horror, despair, anger. It sent a chill down Naya’s spine.

“I am different but so are you. You’ve shown you are willing to murder indiscriminately—as long as it isn’t your own people.” Her breath became heavier as though she was holding back a flood of sorrow or grief she refused to spill. “It has taken its toll on everybody. I'm sure you saw this morning how it has affected the council." She held Naya’s eyes. “You were underestimated. And adjustments have to be made for that.”

Naya’s words were caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected this, but she should have. The people who were hurt and killed were probably known to the council. “I’m sorry if what I did impacted you and the council,” Naya said, keeping her voice steady. "If people you know have been hurt, I’m sorry about that to—it wasn’t intentional. If I could have found another way to leave without hurting anyone, I would have.” She stepped forward, gaze sharp. “But what was intentional was what your king did to me and planned to do, and still plans to do to my people. These are the risks you take when you make these kind of choices. And when you are the aggressor, you don’t get to complain about the cost.”

Prillu’s face twisted. “Then I suppose we are at odds as to who the aggressor truly is. Because it certainly wasn’t the women and children of the sukkurian."

“And it isn’t me or my people either.” She spoke quietly, deliberately. "You and the council call yourselves ‘of the sukkurian’—of the people. But it’s different when you’re at the top, isn’t it? When you are the ones making decisions about whose lives are spent. You were, and still are, planning worse for my people. At least you still have your home."

They stood in silence, a charged thread of tension between them.

Then, just as quickly as it had slipped, Prillu’s mask returned. Her expression smoothed, her voice turning cool once more.

"Let’s go," she said flatly. "The council is waiting."

"All right," Naya breathed, looking around at the council gathered in the archive chamber.

Compared to this morning, they now appeared positive and ready to work, less suspicious and hostile. Scrolls and leather-bound volumes were already stacked on the massive stone table, and archive assistants moved quietly around the edges of the room, ready to retrieve additional materials as needed.

“I’d like to start with understanding how you deal with magical attacks when they happen,” Naya said. "How do you protect the city?"

The council members exchanged glances. Ranin cleared his throat. “Apart from recent events, we haven't had an attack within the city itself for many years." His answer sounded carefully composed. "The nnin -boulders create a barrier that usually deflects them. But in the past, they were frequent—sometimes weekly."

"The most effective approach was early detection," Tshel said. "We developed methods to monitor when the nnin-eellithi came close to our borders and track their movements. It gave us time to prepare."

Naya leaned forward. "But what about when they get too close, like the one that recently entered the city?"

A heavy silence fell over the room. No one would meet her gaze directly. The weight of what she'd done—however unintentionally—hung between them like a physical presence. Naya swallowed, but didn't retreat from the uncomfortable moment, looking them each in the eye. The encounter with Prillu had annoyed and hardened her. These people were acting like she hadn’t been kidnapped and tortured, like they were the only victims. She felt guilty, but that was for the actual victims—the people out in the street who had no hand in her suffering and weren’t prepared.

Tshel and Ranin both glanced at Prillu, who exhaled slowly.

"When a nnin-eellithi breaches our outer defenses,” Prillu said, her voice measured, “we have specialists who use tools to syphon off the magic, redirecting it away from populated areas."

"But they weren't able to do that with the recent one," Naya said quietly.

Prillu's mouth tightened. "No. It moved too quickly, and was... unusually powerful."

The unspoken accusation lingered—Naya ignored it. “I want to know about the earliest occurrences of magical attacks in this region," she said slowly, carefully choosing her words. " I want to know what happened, how it happened, the effects on the region, and how the attack was stopped."

The council members nodded, and began searching the archive with the help of the archivists. They worked solidly for an hour, mostly in silence, and then gathered back at the table. The rustling of ancient pages and the scratch of charcoal on parchment as they took notes filled the chamber.

"Earliest sign of magical disturbance was nearly a hundred years ago," Tshel said finally, laying a yellowed scroll carefully on the table. "It happened on the edge of the city and attacked a traveling party who were leaving Onn Kkulma."

"How did that get resolved?" Naya asked, leaning forward to examine the faded script. “What happened to the magic?”

"The records don't say specifically," Tshel replied, her finger tracing the text. "But it is one of the earliest known sightings of wild magic. After that, incidents became more frequent, more severe."

"Was magic being used at this time?" Naya asked, her mind working quickly. "Was it being used regularly in the city?"

"Yes," Tshel said. She glanced at Oppo, who had remained mostly silent so far.

When she offered nothing more, Naya pressed. "How?"

"At that time, magic was extremely prevalent in the city," said Prillu. "We used it extensively, much more than we do now. We had magical traveling methods to move easily from one side of the city to another. Magical healing that could mend the most devastating injuries, magical cultivation that could grow crops in barren soil, magical defenses that kept armies at bay."

"What changed?" Naya asked, sensing important information just within reach.

The heavy door to the archive opened with a resonant thud that silenced the room. Naya didn't need to turn to know who it was—the sudden, charged stillness that gripped the council members told her everything. That, and the feel of him in the room, the way her body prickled with awareness, some hidden part of her responding to his presence before she even laid eyes on him.

Akoro strode into the chamber, his footfalls heavy against the stone floor. He wore formal attire—layers of rich fabric in deep colors, patterned with intricate designs that emphasized his broad shoulders and powerful frame. His eyes swept across the room, landing on her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter.

"Leave us.” His voice was a low, commanding rumble that brooked no argument.

The council members exchanged glances but rose immediately. They filed out of the room in tense silence, Prillu last among them. She paused at the door, her gaze flicking between Naya and Akoro, before she too disappeared into the corridor.

The door closed behind them with a heavy finality that seemed to compress the air in the chamber. Naya straightened her back, refusing to be intimidated by his sudden appearance.

"You will be with me for the remainder of the day," Akoro said, approaching the table.

Naya glared at him. "I'm in the middle of research, Akoro. You can’t just come in here and order everyone out when I need them.”

“You will continue your research with me," he replied, his eyes holding hers.

Naya almost scoffed. After weeks of being used for his pleasure and her days being held over her head, this had to be a jest. "You said you wouldn't hinder my progress."

"I'm not," he said, the edge in his voice sharpening. "I'm helping."

"Are you?" Naya challenged, crossing her arms. "Or are you making sure I don't learn too much?"

Akoro's jaw tightened. “I was told you had questions for me. And I realized there are places only I can take you, information only I can provide." His voice dropped lower, almost intimate in its intensity. "If you wish to succeed, you'll need me.”

Naya studied him, trying to discern the truth behind his words. There was calculation there, certainly—Akoro wouldn't help her unless it somehow served his own interests. But she had already come up against a barrier where only he could provide the answer. This was his land, his palace, his history. He might truly be the only one who could give her the bigger picture, and she had thirteen precious days that could mean life or death for her empire.

“I don’t trust your interpretation any more than your council’s,” she said firmly.

“Then I will have someone translate the official documentation for you,” he said. “But as you can already see, some things were not documented.”

Naya’s eyes narrowed. That was true for all documentation, but usually there were supporting accounts to verify events. He was offering to testify.

All right,” she said finally. “I have many questions… starting with the one you just interrupted: What happened to the magical city you once had?"

His dark eyes roved over her face, lingering on her mouth for a heartbeat before returning to meet her gaze. "Come," he said, turning toward the door. "I'll show you."

"Show me?" Naya repeated, surprised.

Akoro paused, looking back at her over his shoulder. "Some things are better understood when seen."

There was something in his tone—a gravity, an underlying weight to his words—that made her instantly curious.

Naya hesitated only a moment before following him. As she fell into step beside him, their arms brushed briefly, sending a jolt through her that she fiercely ignored. His scent seeped around her, familiar and comforting despite everything—or perhaps because of it.

She glanced up at his profile as they walked, at the hard line of his jaw, the intensity in his dark eyes. Her body still remembered the feel of his hands on her skin, the weight of him against her, inside her. She forced her mind away from those memories.

They were enemies, and they were mates, but they were working toward a goal that could save or doom both their lands.

And today, maybe, she would finally begin to understand the truth about what she was facing.

Akoro's pace was swift and determined as he led Naya through the palace corridors. His massive form cut through the corridors like a blade, creating an invisible path that none dared cross. Naya quickened her steps to keep up with him, irritation and curiosity warring within her.

They continued in silence, descending several flights of stairs until they reached the ground level of the palace. When they stepped out into the blazing afternoon sun, Naya blinked, momentarily disoriented by the sudden brightness after being in the Archives.

His nnirae stood saddled and waiting in the courtyard, massive and imposing, its thick beige hide gleaming in the sunlight. Akoro approached the creature, which greeted him with a low rumbling sound. Without hesitation, he lifted Naya and placed her on the saddle, and mounted behind her.

The nnirae moved forward at Akoro's command, its gait smooth as always. Within minutes, they were beyond the palace grounds, weaving through the city streets. The city appeared markedly better than last time she’d seen it; less debris cluttered the pathways, the dried blood had been scrubbed from walls and pavements, and the air smelled cleaner, less thick with death and destruction. Akoro's people worked with determined efficiency, their efforts already visible in the progress of rebuilding.

People stopped to stare as they passed, bowing deeply to their king but watched Naya with curiosity. Many of them bore wounds or burns—remnants of her desperate escape attempt. The guilt slithered through her chest again, coiling tight around her heart.

The city gradually thinned as they moved outward, buildings growing sparser, more damaged. Eventually, they reached the ruins on the outskirts of the city—skeletal remains of once-grand structures stretching out across the landscape like the bones of fallen giants.

Akoro guided the nnirae to a halt beside a massive, half-collapsed archway. To Naya’s surprise, he dismounted, then turned to help her down.

“I thought we were leaving the city?” she asked, her feet hitting the ground.

“Not today,” he said. “The is the ancient quarter of Onn Kkulma.” He led the nnirae to a crumbling hitching post and securing its reins. "What once was the heart of our civilization."

Naya gazed around at the ruins with renewed interest. Even in their destroyed state, the structures displayed incredible craftsmanship and design. Partial domes rose like broken eggshells against the sky, and fallen pillars lay half-buried in the sand, their surfaces still bearing traces of intricate carvings.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, "even like this."

Akoro's expression shifted, his voice low. "It was more beautiful before."

A sudden gust of hot wind swept through the ruins, bringing with it a swirl of sand that stung Naya's skin. She shielded her eyes, looking out over the golden sand beyond the boulders, her body tense. She couldn’t feel any magic nearby.

“You are safe.”

She turned to see Akoro looking at her.

He gestured to several large boulders positioned around the perimeter of the ruins. Each was deeply veined with glowing blue lines, pulsing with quiet energy. "There are more than usual number of nnin -boulders here. You are safe.”

She nodded. His assurance did settled something restless inside her. Despite everything, she did feel safe with him—at least from external threats.

"Come," he said, turning toward a partial staircase that led up to a raised platform. “Watch your footing.”

Naya followed him, careful of her footing on the crumbling steps. The stone was warm beneath her palms as she steadied herself, climbing higher until they reached a broad platform overlooking the sprawl of ruins.

Akoro moved to the edge, gazing out over the landscape with a distant expression. “Our history is vast," he said. "Our historians have identified seven phases that determine how we came to this point—how we impacted the Sands and magic, and how they impacted us. Each question you ask will unravel more questions.” He glanced at her. “It’s not designed to impede or confuse you, I’m just warning you how it is, why others have failed….”

He crouched to examine a fragment of carved stone at his feet. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands before looking up at her. “So what do you want to know?”

Naya sighed, moving to stand beside him. She crouched down as well, her shoulder nearly brushing his as she peered at the stone fragment. It bore an intricate pattern—geometric shapes intertwined with flowing, organic forms. "All right," she said. "Tell me about this region before the wild magic came. What was it like?"

Akoro's fingers traced the pattern on the stone. "The region of Tsashokra was vast—far larger than what you saw from the sand drift," he said. "You saw the map. It includes many deserts and Sands."

"A desert empire," Naya murmured.

"Not entirely desert," Akoro said. "There were rivers and lakes, fertile valleys between the dunes. The Sands were hostile, yes, but we learned to thrive with them, not despite them." He set down the stone fragment and rose.

Naya did the same. "And this city—Onn Kkulma—was it always the center?"

“Yes.”

"How many cities were there in Tsashokra?"

"Twelve major cities and countless smaller settlements," Akoro replied. "Onn Kkulma was the largest, but each was significant in its own way."

"And they all fell? Because of the wild magic?"

"Yes. Be careful here." Akoro guided her across a narrow stretch of broken masonry. "It was the jewel of Tsashokra, the capital where advancement was made in art, music, fashion, and particularly magic." His eyes gleamed with unexpected passion as he spoke, a fierce pride suffusing his features. "The most powerful dynasties ruled from here."

"Dynasties?" Naya asked, stepping carefully over a fallen column. "Like royal families?"

"Not exactly." Akoro climbed up onto a larger broken pillar, extending an arm to help her up after him. "A Dynasty is when successions of people from the same family play prominent roles in the region. Not all were rulers—some were scholars, others were merchants or warriors. But they held the most influence, the most wealth, the most power, accumulated through generations."

Perched on the pillar, they had a broader view of the ruined landscape. "The Sy Dynasty, my family, ruled alongside the Vos and Qor Dynasties. We were the ruling dynasties of Tsashokra—a Tri-Dynasy—three families sharing power and responsibility for the region."

Naya settled more comfortably on the pillar. Their shoulders touched, and she was acutely aware of the warmth radiating from him, the subtle shift of muscle beneath the fabric of his garments.

"Was it peaceful?" she asked. "This sharing of power?"

"Not always. There were... disagreements. But the balance worked in what is now called the Golden Age of the region. Each dynasty had its strengths. The Qor developed and oversaw the military and controlled much of how others maintained their power. The Vos were brilliant architects and craftsmen—many of these buildings were their designs. They also secured land for agriculture. And the Sy were specialist merchants, trade of luxury goods, precious metals and gemstones within and beyond Tsashokra's borders. "

"So warriors, land, and precious materials," Naya said dryly. "No wonder why you were the most powerful."

Akoro made a noise in the back of his throat and hesitated.

They walked among the ruins, the wind swirling sand around their ankles, and Naya waited for him to speak.

“The Sy were also magical innovators,” he said finally. “They drove the advancement of magical understanding and application within the city."

Naya looked at him in surprised. “They were responsible for the magic? Just your dynasty?”

“Yes.” The word came out with grit and force.

Naya glanced up at him, surprised. There was no pride in his tone and his shoulders were tense.

"Healing magic, transportation magic, agricultural magic,” he said. “We developed ways to make the desert bloom, to heal injuries that would otherwise be fatal, to travel vast distances in moments. Magic was woven into the fabric of daily life. Everyone used it, in one form or another."

“How? In my land using magic requires training, not everyone can do it.”

“The Sy Dynasty introduced magical artifacts—tools that enhanced quality of life. Only a few at first, but then they flooded the region. The developed them so that almost anyone could use them, and these artifacts became integral to society.”

So it was the Sy Dynasty who created the magical tools. Why was Prillu so defensive about that? “Did the wild magic exist then?”

“It did, but it was contained… until it wasn’t.”

“What happened?”

“Wild magic broke free and destroyed most of the region. Many people died.” He turned, making his way toward a set of low steps that led down to what might once have been a courtyard.

Naya frowned. She followed him, picking her way carefully over the broken stones. “You’re leaving things out. How did that happen?”

Her foot slipped on a stone and she teetered, losing balance. She squealed and strong arms grabbed her, steadying her, her heart hammering against her chest.

“I said be careful,” Akoro said fiercely. “This debris is dangerous.”

“I was trying to catch up,” Naya said breathless.

Something dark flickered across Akoro's expression. He bend down and lifted her into his arms.

“What are you doing?” Naya said alarmed.

“I’m carrying you,” he said sharply. “You cannot be trusted to walk.”

“What?” Fury burst in her chest. She wriggled and twisted, pushing away from him. “Put me down! I can walk on my own, Akoro.”

“No.”

She hit his hard chest with her palms, glaring at him as his scent crawled over her. “I said, put me down. I don’t want to be carried.”

The Alpha ignored her, strolling around the ruins as though he wasn’t carrying a protesting woman.

Naya fought to get out of his hold until she was exhausted.

“Are you finished?” he said, his face like stone.

Folding her arms, she glared at him, resting until she could fight him again. Akoro walked in silence for a long while, maneuvering around broken slabs. Naya hadn’t examined the ruins before when she’d passed them in the cart, but they were clearly remnants of a huge and established culture.

Eventually, Akoro started speaking again. “The magical artifacts and tools made the Sy Dynasty increasingly wealthier and more influential. The demand for more tools grew and they started developing, enhancing, getting more complicated. The Sy’s magical creations were being used by the Qor and the Vos families in their industries, and the balance of power started to shift.”

From here, it was clear to see his expression—it wasn’t one pride or contentment. “What happened?” Naya asked, her cheek pressed into his chest, curled in his arms.

Akoro continued walking, quiet for a moment. He glanced down at her. “That is phase two.” Abruptly, he turned and headed back the way they came. "But we should return. It will be dark soon."

Naya nodded, trying to gather her thoughts. The day had been disorienting in ways she hadn't expected—not just because of what she'd learned about the history of Akoro's land, but because he was actually explaining it to her. She thought she would have to fight for every shred of research, let alone solve the problem, but he seemed to be helpful, at least right now. His sudden helpfulness made her uneasy.

As he carried her back to the nnirae , Naya found herself staring up at him. The setting sun gilded his profile, highlighting the strength of his features, the breadth of his shoulders. Physically, he was unchanged—still the powerful, imposing Alpha who had taken her captive. And yet, there was something different about him now, something she couldn't quite define.

Or perhaps the change was in her perception. Outside of bed, she’d mostly only seen him angry.

The nnirae greeted Akoro with a low rumble, nudging its massive head against his shoulder. Akoro carefully placed Naya down and stroked its neck, murmuring something in his language that made the creature settle.

After checking the beast's harness, he placed Naya on the saddle and mounted, pulling her close to him as the nnirae began to move. Naya relished the solid warmth of him, the undeniable, steadying presence that she enjoyed.

The ruins receded behind them, silhouetted against the darkening sky. As they rode in silence, Naya found herself reflecting on what she'd learned—not just about the wild magic and the history of Akoro's civilization but about the Alpha himself. Still dominant, still unyielding, but with depths she was only beginning to glimpse, complexities that didn't excuse his actions but perhaps began to explain them.