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

CHAPTER TWO

I t took an hour to tell her parents the most important parts of what happened.

They’d moved to another healing room in a more secure wing of the palace, then she told her parents of her capture in the forest, the fierce determination driving Akoro to take their empire for his own, the size of his army, the way he used his council, his infiltration of the Lox Empire for years, and all that he threatened to do to her and their people.

Papa wanted every single detail, down to the smells and sounds she could remember. He couldn’t help but pace as he listened, fury tense in his body, his fist gripping the handle of his sword at his belt. Mama stood still and stiff, her mouth set in a firm line and her eyes burning.

The twins were motionless, standing on either side of the chair she sat on, focused on her wound as she talked.

“What did you give them?” Papa asked when she’d finished.

Naya sucked in a breath, both relieved and ashamed. He knew she’d have to have given them something to still be alive, but it didn’t make it any easier when she recounted all the questions they’d asked and how she’d answered.

Papa nodded as she reeled off the information they had. “How long has he been studying us?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Naya admitted.

Papa growled. “Do you think they’ve been inside the palace or its grounds?”

“I doubt it,” Naya said, thinking back to all their questions. “I don’t think they managed to get near the palace.”

Papa made a low rumbling sound. “Good. What does he look like?”

He’s beautiful.

The words sprang to her lips with barely anything thought, but she bit them back, both annoyed and stunned at herself. Now wasn’t the time for her stupid Omega instincts to emerge. She opened her mouth to answer the question, but the word beautiful wouldn’t leave her mind. How else could someone like him be described?

Mama frowned, stepping forward to peer closer at Naya.

“He’s… er… he doesn’t look like anyone from any of the countries in the Known Lands,” she said finally. “They wear different clothes, have different weapons, and even wear their hair differently. We haven’t encountered a culture like theirs before, and their army is enormous.”

Mama and Papa’s eyes meet and silence filled the room for a long moment. Naya looked between them, and although neither looked particularly worried, it was clear that the reality of what was coming was sinking in.

“He did this when you tried to escape?” Papa asked, gesturing to her face.

Naya hesitated. “Yes.”

“What is it?” Mama asked at her hesitation. Since Naya started recounting what happened, Mama had been watchful and quiet, as though she’d known Naya hadn’t told them everything yet. And she hadn’t.

Naya took a breath. “He is my mate.”

Mama and Papa both froze and then crowded closer to her. Mama took her hand, and taking care, Papa crouched beside her and slowly lifted her chin, examining her neck.

Horrified, Naya realized he was searching for a bite mark. “We didn’t bond, Papa. You know the Omega is the one who has to initiate that. I would never do it with him.”

“That doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t force you to,” Papa bit out. His eyes lingered on her face, and the look in them sent an uncomfortable prickle up her neck. He knew. Papa knew she had bed Akoro.

They both knew because Mama asked, “Did he force you?” Her entire body was rigid.

Naya hesitated, unsure how to answer. Since she’d liked it, craved it even, was it forced? Was it forced if she was in her heat? Or if she’d wanted the comfort of it even when she’d been so distraught by it? “I.. I was in my Haze so….”

Mama turned away, exhaling heavily, while Papa growled out curses under his breath, low and threatening. She didn’t need to continue.

“Why did he cut you?” Papa thundered, disgust heavy in his voice. “What kind of Alpha is he? Why would he cut his mate like this?”

“He….” Naya swallowed, organizing her thoughts under the brutal weight of her embarrassment. “The cut is attached to his proximity somehow. It heals when he is near. If he were standing in this room, there would be no wound. You wouldn’t even see a scar.”

Papa was silent, and for the first time since Naya had been conscious, the Talent-crafter twins glanced at each other. That kind of magic was unheard of in the Known Lands.

“So he wants you with him, then?” Mama asked slowly. “He wants to keep you as his mate, even as he plans to invade us.”

Naya starting nodding and then stopped when the pain sharpened. “Yes.”

Papa exhaled and walked away. “The Mother is right. He is coming with sophisticated magic. We need to prepare.” He glanced back at Naya knowingly. “Have you formulated a plan already?”

Naya lifted her eyes, her own gaze hardening to match the fury in his. “Of course I have. I am your daughter, Papa.”

Before Naya could do anything, something had to be done about her face. Papa left to find Uncle Torin while they tried to figure out a solution.

The twins explained that while she’d been unconscious, they attempted healing the wound, but no matter what they tried, the skin wouldn’t knit back together. They couldn’t even stop the bleeding completely, only slow it to a trickle. It would take more research to figure out how to heal her. For now, all they could do was slow the bleeding down and numb the area so that Naya didn’t feel pain.

But Naya wasn’t happy about that. She needed to be able to move around freely—couldn’t remain lying down so magic could be streamed into her face—to plan for the invasion. The twins would be needed too. As the only Talent-Crafters for the Lox Empire, their input would be essential to prepare a magical defense. They couldn’t spend their time solely focused on Naya’s injury. Yet, it was obvious that she would bleed to death if her wound was left unattended.

“Can I apply the magic myself?” she asked.

The twin, who always dressed in red, Rada, nodded. “Yes, but it will take much of your concentration and you’ll have to keep it bandaged if you want to move around.”

“I can do that.”

“Your father will need your full input if he is to successfully defend against this attack,” the other twin Kuan, who always wore black, added. “You won’t be able to help him effectively if you’re having to focus on?—”

Naya waved her hand dismissively. “I will manage it. Show me.”

The twins explained how they drew on healing magic to surround and stanch the wound, keeping it as close as possible to the cut. They were directing an incredible amount of magic into her face, just to slow the bleeding, and Naya realized just how powerful Akoro’s magic was.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Mama murmured beside her.

“It will take some concentration, but I can do it.”

“Naya.” Mama’s voice was laced with warning. “You need to be looked after properly. This wound is deep. If you lose too much blood--”

“I need to be involved in the preparations, Mama,” Naya said. “If I can’t do that, then Akoro will win.”

Mama was silent for a moment, her mouth tight, and then nodded.

Naya steadied her mind and instead of pulling on the magic she knew was available in the room, she sent out her awareness to feel the surrounding magic. Healing magic came from the open air; it was always softer and more malleable than the magic interwoven with physical things, but it felt incredibly weak compared to the powerful vibrations and knots of magic she’d sensed across the empire.

Focusing, Naya gathered her own stream of healing magic, combining stronger threads she detected from the surrounding area, and then nodded to the twins. As they drew back, she willed her own stream to her wound, weaving it back and forth across the gash like magical stitches and then encasing it completely with magic, like a seal.

A twinge of pain skittered across her face as she took over, but it settled within moments. When she shifted her attention to the twins, the magic faltered. A searing pain scored across her face and blood gushed from the wound, splattering over her tunic.

“Naya,” Mama gasped, grabbing her arm.

Taking a deep breath, Naya refocused and this time, she widened her awareness to the stronger vibrations from just beyond the castle. Taking it painstakingly slow, she applied the stronger streams of magic in tiny threads to her own body’s healing energy. This time, once attached, it remained secure. A tiny trickle of blood still dripped from it down her chin, and she suspected it would need to be reapplied periodically, but when she slowly moved her head side to side, the magic held.

Naya lifted her head to see the twins’ surprised, questioning stares and Mama’s worried gaze.

She nodded at them all, glad she could finally nod again without blood and pain. “Thank you,” she said to the twins. Unfortunately, she couldn’t speak that easily. “Please assist the emperor immediately.” The twins bowed low and left the room.

Naya slowly stood up.

“Naya,” Mama said. “You need to rest.”

“I will, Mama,” Naya said. “I just want to prepare before he arrives.”

Mama lifted a hand and pressed it to her non-damaged cheek, her eyes flitting over Naya’s face. Something somber in her eyes made Naya frown. “What is it, Mama?”

Mama sighed, lowering her hand. “We will talk later. Go and help Papa.”

Naya nodded and headed to the door. It was time to plan for the invasion.

“We need to build fortifications around the palace, and then once they’re tired of trying to get through, we attack them with everything we’ve got and push them into the white ocean.” Naya dragged her finger along the map spread across the table. “If we can direct them through this valley and onto the shore, archers can attack from the surrounding trees, the boats—everywhere. They’ll have nowhere to go but into the ocean.”

Papa peered at the map. “No.” His voice was firm. “We drive them to the plains and surround them from all sides. I want their corpses feeding the soil of Ashens. They need to be spread out across the vast landscape and killed.”

Naya exhaled and dropped her arm. Papa had been disagreeing with her strategies for the last half hour. He wanted to make an example of Akoro and his army by killing them in hand-to-hand combat, even though Akoro had the bigger army. Naya wanted to wait them out, defend their home and then, when they were tired, kill as many as possible from afar. She didn’t want to risk the Empire and the lives of Lox warriors.

Mama, Uncle Torin, and the Talent-Crafter twins stood around the table with them, but discussion had devolved into Papa and Naya arguing about what strategy was best for Ashens. And it was a waste of time.

“What is the point of training archers if we won’t use them when we need them?” Naya asked. “And what is the difference where they are killed? It’s all our soil. We cannot win this battle like you’ve won others, Papa. His army is determined and well trained.”

“So is the Lox.” Papa’s glare was fierce. He leaned on the table, glaring at her. “Just because his enemy is bigger doesn’t mean they are smarter. We know the terrain, we have experience on this land. You have to trust that the Lox can defeat them on the battlefield.”

“I know we can defeat him,” Naya shot back, “but only if we have the right strategy. He’s had years of preparation for just this battle, and he’s using a kind of magic that we don’t know how to defend against. We need to minimize risk. This isn’t about showing our strength, it is about winning.”

"It's about both!" Papa thundered. "You're assuming this battle can be planned down to the last detail, Nayara. We cannot rely on one strategy. It’s riskier, but?—"

“I am strategizing like someone who has sparred with him, Papa!” Naya shot back. “Someone who has seen how he strategizes. Have you ever fought an army of his size before?”

Papa pushed back from the table, his face like thunder, but he didn’t answer. Naya took that as a no.

“Then you cannot know how much of a risk it is to fight them like it’s any other battle,” she insisted. “I know they will focus most of their efforts here in Ashens. They want to take the palace so they can convince the rest of the empire to give up. If we push them toward the water, we can trap them with arrows. I didn’t see evidence that they use archers—and they probably think we don’t because we’ve never made it known that Chief Kardos was training archers for the army. It will surprise them.”

When Papa started to shake his head, a surge of anger gripped Naya. She spoke again before he even had a chance to open his mouth. “Papa. I am leading this defense. Me, the next ruler of the Lox Empire. I know this enemy. If we fail, it will be my empire at stake and the lives of people who expect me to rule. I will not stand aside.”

Papa’s face contorted, and his voice rose to a roar, tearing through the room. “I don’t want you to stand aside, Naya. I have been waiting to stand beside you like this for years. But you cannot lead this if you are speaking out of trauma and fear.”

Mama stepped forward and placed a hand on Papa’s arm. “Drocco?—”

“It is not trauma or fear just because you disagree, Papa!” Naya thundered back, her voice equally as fierce. She’d almost forgotten how stubborn and proud Papa was. Now was not the time for it. “Do you think I sat trembling for my life the whole time I was there? I remembered everything you taught me. I listened, I watched, I memorized, I planned for this moment. I know you enjoy this part—figuring out how to defeat a new enemy, but I solved this puzzle before I escaped.”

Papa straightened, his shoulders relaxing, his chest out, and the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Of course you did,” he said, pride thick in his voice. “You are Lox trained, and my daughter.”

Naya straightened to match his stance, looking him in the eyes. “You’ve been telling me to accept my rightful place as ruler for years. I am accepting it now.”

“Now? After rejecting it for six years, you expect me to believe you’re suddenly ready after returning from being captured? I am not trying to take anything from you, Naya, but I’ve led this army for over three decades and we’ve never lost a battle yet.”

“You did not see his battle room, Papa,” Naya said, her voice quietening. “You didn’t see the enormous range of weapons nor the weight or design of them. You don’t know how he fights, how deeply he’s been watching us, the council he uses and their varying knowledge and experience. You did not see the meticulous nature of their preparation, nor the strength of his vengeance. This won’t be a battle, it will be a war. If we don’t stop him as soon as we can, he will erase all signs of us from this land until it is just hills and plains of blood-soaked soil. Then he will do the same to our allies because they helped us.” She didn’t mention that Akoro would keep her alive and at his side to watch it all. “We do not need to beat our chests,” she said firmly. “We need to win.”

The entire room stilled, but Naya only saw her papa. He was tense, his expression unreadable.

“I am ready, Papa,” Naya insisted, breaking the silence that was building. “You will tell the generals I am leading, and we will follow my strategy. I won’t let you down.”

Papa kept his eyes on Naya and slowly walked around the table separating them until he towered over her.

Naya met his gaze. It was the first time she’d ever dared give him a direct order, but this was the best way forward and, for the sake of all their lives, she had to force him to see it. But as he looked down at her, a multitude of emotions flicked across his face; fury, pride, determination, but to her surprise, at the root of them was worry.

“You crumbled when Lili died, Nayara.” His voice was almost too low for anyone else to hear. “You took your guilt to a dark place that not even your mother or I could reach. When you lead an army into battle, you are responsible for every life—every single Alpha who has pledged to fight to the death—and it is guaranteed that you will lose some of them. It’s the nature of battle. They are trusting that I, or you, or Torin, or Mama—any of us who lead—will carry them to a victory they can be proud of because they know it will come with the deaths of men they have trained with for years, if not their own. It is a heavy responsibility that must be honored.”

Naya didn’t break eye contact. “I know, Papa. That’s why we don’t need to put them in situations they cannot win. What you’re suggesting will kill more Lox warriors than necessary. I can prevent needless death.”

“But you cannot prevent death from occurring,” Papa stressed. “You cannot assume that one strategy will secure a win regardless of the information you have. You cannot guarantee they don’t use long-range weapons just because you saw none. There are different ways to fight this war.”

Naya swallowed, but held his gaze. He was right.

“Warriors will die,” Papa continued. “Citizens will die, palace staff will die, and possibly some of us in this room, too. Death is expected by our men, but their honor is nonnegotiable. It matters. Understanding that is part of leading the army and has to be factored in to how we strategize. If they are told to fight like cowards, it not only affects their morale, they’re also not being honored.”

Naya’s mouth tightened in annoyance. Over the years since she’d started training, the Lox had become so worshipped, it was almost as though they were an extension of the throne. Clearly, this had gone to Papa’s head. “The entire empire is at stake here, Papa. The feelings of Lox warriors have to be put into perspective of the enormity we could lose.”

Papa was quiet for a long moment. “Our honor would be devastating to lose too, Naya. We aren’t bandits on a field protecting our food by any means necessary. We are an established culture. Our honor at this moment will be reflected in our survivors and remembered by history. Are you prepared for that?”

Naya took a breath. “I understand.” And she did. Holding the throne and the army held an intangible weight, one that wasn’t about the immediate moment. “And I am prepared.”

His eyes searched her face and slowly, the worry on his face softened. “All right,” Papa said, his exhale heavy. “Then you will lead.”

Naya sighed, relief filtering through her as Papa pulled her to him for a long hug.

For the next hour, things moved smoothly. They poured over the map, identifying areas of potential weaknesses for Akoro’s army and analyzing regions that Akoro and his counsel seemed interested in. Uncle Torin, Mama, and Papa each had specific and up-to-date knowledge about the regions, the Lox army, and recent reports filed with the Records Keep, so when combined, their insight helped to create a formidable plan.

Papa couldn’t help but pace as they talked, stopping once in a while to brace his thick arms on the table and exhale through gritted teeth. Beneath his obvious anger, jangled a charged agitation about the upcoming battle that Naya recognized as a blend of excitement, rage, and irritation. Mama’s mood was somber, serious, and deadly. She saw things in a different light than the men did, and her contributions usually firmed up a blind spot. Papa paced closed to her, as though needing her soothing energy, and every so often she reached out to brush his arm or he reached back to touch her. Uncle Torin was steady as always, but even more strict with Naya’s recounting of information than Papa, asking very precise questions while scribbling notes.

“Is that everything?” Uncle Torin didn’t glance up from his parchment. “Everything you can think of?”

Naya stared at the map spread across the table for a moment, then pointed to several places. “Are you sure we’ll have enough strong defenses in these places to protect them?”

“The generals of those areas will have some good ideas on top of ours,” Papa said.

“And we’ll have the help of Kardos’ tribes, and Malloron’s Talent-crafter army,” Mama added. “They know they’ll be taking orders from our generals.”

Naya nodded. “With them and our citizens’ help, his army will be more than distracted. It’ll be a hard fight for them.”

Uncle Torin nodded and kept scribbling. He nodded at her answer, still not glancing up. “When do you think he’ll come?”

Naya looked up at him, unease sliding around her chest. “I’m surprised he’s not here already.”

Papa frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“He was preparing to attack when I left. I thought he would be right behind me.”

“What would have stopped him?”

Naya thought for a moment. “I pulled white fire into his city so I could escape.” The screams she’d heard while creating the portal resonated in her mind, but she pushed the memory away. “I’m guessing that slowed him down.”

“How much time do you think that gives us?” Uncle Torin asked.

“I’m not sure. It could be a few more hours or another day or two. They have magic, but I don’t know how efficiently they deal with white fire.”

“That’s more than enough time to prep every country, meet our allies, and put the empire on warning,” Papa said.

“We still don’t know how he got here,” Uncle Torin pointed out.

“Or how he took you there,” Kuan, the twin in black, said, annoyance flitting through her face. Tall and golden-featured, the twins were already striking women, but their serious demeanor made them even more imposing. As female Alphas—a rare dynamic—they were a constant source of curiosity throughout the empire. Yet, they remained largely withdrawn, keeping company with only each other, and seen only when summoned by Papa. However, in matters of magic, they never hesitated to speak up, their voices clear and assertive. “We scoured the forest for signs or residue of portals or magic, and we couldn’t find any.”

“Lox warriors are combing the forest,” Papa said. “If they see anything, they’ll alert us.”

“I’ll talk to the Omegas about creating a shield to protect their village,” Mama said. “If they all work together, it should be impenetrable.”

“Tell us exactly how you saw this magic being used,” the other twin, Rada, said to Naya.

Naya explained again how the dark red bands had worked—tightening around her hard enough to break bones when she moved away from her confinement. She talked about the way the camp had traveled with carts hovering over sand, and the way the city was protected from the white magic using boulders . She explained how magic felt closed off and unresponsive and yet extremely powerful with the ability to activate without direct input. Papa continued pacing as she talked while Torin stilled, his nib motionless above the parchment.

When she’d finished, the Talent-crafter twins were silent for a long moment, thoughtful expressions on their faces. “This sounds like some kind of rule-based magic,” Rada said to Kuan.

Her sister nodded. “It must be. What the princess describes is very difficult to achieve and impossible with ability.”

“What is rule-based magic?” Naya asked.

“Magic that’s confined by certain rules and used to complete actions with no need for applied direction or interference by a Talent-crafter.”

“It cannot be easily interfered with,” Rada said.

“And even if someone somehow manages to, there are dire consequences,” Kuan finished.

“That sounds like it,” Naya said, grimly. “How do you know of it? Who uses that kind of magic in the empire?”

“No one,” Rada said.

“Anymore,” Kuan added hesitantly.

Both of them glanced at Papa.

He slowed to a stop and scowled at them. “What does that mean?”

“Who used to use it?” Uncle Torin demanded.

The sisters spoke together. “The Mothers.”

“They are the only ones who we’ve seen do anything like that,” Kuan added.

“When?” Uncle Torin asked.

“The shield they built to protect their compound in the wastelands,” Kuan said. “It required no effort from the Mothers to maintain. That’s why it was so hard to create a portal from outside.”

Papa’s face contorted. “Bring Mother Freya to me now.”

“No, Papa,” Naya said. “I will speak to her.”

“Naya—”

“She only irritates you,” Naya said gently. “And you irritate her, too. We need useful information from her with as little resistance as possible. That counts out you, Uncle Torin, and even Mama. If you want to question her after me, you can. But let me get the information we need first.”

Papa exhaled slowly, his eyes searching her face as if to try to determine whether she was up to it, but Naya kept her gaze firm. They couldn’t afford for Mother Freya to refuse to help them, and she certainly would if Papa demanded it. Both Uncle Torin and Mama nodded at Papa in agreement with Naya.

“All right,” he said finally. “But first, we gather the generals.”

The Great Hall felt different.

Naya couldn’t help but think of Akoro’s battle room and she didn’t like how the comparison felt. By all measures, her father’s display was still raw and powerful, as though the weapons on display had just been pulled out of someone, but Akoro’s intricately patterned weapons and armor, surrounded by gold and woven textures made his battle room feel more decorated and significant—as though he’d faced decades of wars that had been hard won.

She shook the feeling off and kept her gaze on the faces of the generals in front of her as her father spoke. She took center stage on the platform, her parents either side of her, and in the corners, Uncle Torin on one side and the twins on the other.

The generals of the Lox Empire filled less than half of the hall, but they each commanded a unit. These were men who would—and had—defend the empire with their lives. Naya had told Akoro that the Lox army was twenty-five thousand strong, which was partially true. The active and visible foot soldiers did amount to that number, but in reality there were many factions and units that no one saw or associated directly with the Lox army; some worked in secret, some were spies in the other lands, some were training in new fields, like their archers, and others specialized in certain duties and types of combat. Once armies from the other lands were included, she suspected the number that Akoro would have to defeat to win the empire would be much nearer to the size of his own army. Naya pushed her anger down, remembering Akoro’s insults of the Lox. He was delusional to think it would be easy to defeat the full force of the Lox and her allies—the only real advantage he’d had was the element of surprise, and now that was gone.

“They come for our beautiful land, our people, our wealth,” Papa’s voice thundered, each syllable striking like a war drum. “They come for our rich, fertile soil, for the greenery they do not possess, for the abundance they could never cultivate on their own.

“They admit it—admit that we, the Lox Empire, are superior to all other lands.” His gaze swept across the generals, his tone sharpening. “Yet they believe we are soft. Weak. That we grow fat on our riches and slumber in our comfort. They think we are untested in battle, that our strength is a myth, that we will shatter like glass under the weight of war.”

A low growl of dissent rumbled through the assembled generals. No Lox Alpha took that kind of insult lightly, least of all when it came from foreign mouths. Their fury burned, seething, igniting a fire that spread from one hardened face to the next, churned the smoldering anger in the pit of Naya’s stomach.

“They have been watching us.” Papa’s voice pitched deeper, menacing and strong. “They have walked among our people, breathed our air, studied our ways. And when they struck, they did not come for our warriors or our gold. No. They came for our princess.”

A fresh wave of outrage rolled through the ranks, fierce and unrelenting. All eyes slid to Naya, and she met each of them, hoping they could see her own anger and determination. Most prominent of all, they could see the open wound that ran along her face. Papa had told her to keep the wound unbandaged for the gathering, to show the generals the type of enemy they were dealing with. Naya worried it made her look weak, but Papa insisted nothing could, not when she had escaped and come back to warn them. The sight of her wound would simply motivate the generals—make the threat of the Sy Dynasty real in their minds.

“They sought to break us by taking her. They thought they could use her against us.” Papa let that truth settle like a challenge. Then his voice rang out, “But they did not know her. With her bravery, her intelligence, and her skill, she escaped their grasp—and on her way out, she crippled them.” He let those words land, heavy with pride and satisfaction. “Now they will come again. And this time, they will come for all of us.”

As her gaze flitted across the hard faces, she locked onto familiar deep brown eyes. Lonn. Surprise hit her for a moment. Blood spurted from her face, and then poured down her chin in a steady, thick stream onto her chest. The generals bristled even more at the sight, some of them growling or muttering. Uncle Torin reached forward and handed her a clean bandage as she checked the magic at her face. It had weakened dramatically.

Naya reinforced it the best she could and mopped up the blood, but her eyes were drawn back to Lonn. He was still looking at her. What was he doing here? How could he be a general already? She’d only been gone for… how long had it been? She’d forgotten to ask.

Lonn stood with his feet wide and chest out. Maybe he’d been promoted while she was away. He certainly looked more grown up in his general attire. He had grown his hair a little, and a growing beard covered his jaw. Fury blazed in his eyes, and his fists clenched repeatedly, but he dragged his attention away from her and back to Papa, who was still speaking. Naya examined him for a moment. She couldn’t deny he was a very handsome Alpha, but once again, Akoro forced his way into her mind. As fierce as Lonn was, he still seemed safe and mellow compared to the animalistic danger that constantly surrounded Akoro. Even the memory of the delighted fury in Akoro’s dark eyes stirred something deep in her stomach. She couldn’t imagine Lonn kissing her as hungrily, groaning as viciously at the taste of her, jolting her so roughly as he sunk deep into her, or even looking at her in the dark, claiming way Akoro had.

Naya quickly dragged herself from the memories, ashamed her mind had even gone there. She had blocked her Omega signals the moment she left the healing room. There was no excuse for thinking of Akoro in that way.

“All of you are battle-worn,” Papa was saying now. “All of you have fought and bled for the Lox. But this war will not be like any other.”

The tension in the air thickened, charged with unspoken readiness.

“This enemy,” he said, “comes from the unknown lands. He is a heathen, wielding perverse magic and marching with a large army. He has never faced warriors like you. He does not know our lands as you do. He does not understand our empire as we do. And above all—” his voice swelled, resonant, commanding, “—he does not possess the Lox warrior spirit.”

The generals shouted their agreement, fists clenching, shoulders squaring, the fire in their eyes flaring to life.

Papa spoke on with determination and fortitude, his voice hard and deep. “We are led by Princess Naraya, first daughter of your Emperor and Empress, heir to the Lox Empire, Guardian of Omegas, Keeper of Peace—our Omega Princess who returned to us not only unbroken but armed with knowledge. Because of her, we know our enemy. Because of her, we are prepared. And because of her, we will mount the most victorious defense in our history!”

A roar erupted, the sound of warriors ready for war, ready for blood, ready for victory. Papa held their energy in the palm of his hand. He met their gazes, each one of them, his expression unyielding, his voice unshaken.

“We are the greatest army in any land—known or unknown. Every battle, every triumph, every victory we have won has led to this moment.” He raised his fist, and the sea of warriors before him surged with it.

“We are the Lox!” His voice was a battle cry unto itself. “And we. Will. Win.”

The answering roar shook the ground beneath their feet, the sound of an empire prepared to defend its throne.

“All hail the Lox!”

The generals’ ferocious chant burst up to the roof of the Great Hall and sent goosebumps up Naya’s arms. Relief, excitement, and unyielding determination surged through her, driving out the last lingering thoughts of Akoro.

He was about to feel the full might of the Lox. And she would be there to make sure he drowned in it.