Page 9 of Sins of His Wrath (Myth of Omega: Wrath #2)

CHAPTER NINE

A n expanse of golden sand stretched before her, vast and untouched, the horizon curving into eternity just like when she’d first arrived in his land. But this time, the sky had begun to darken, a slow, creeping dusk swallowing the last remnants of light.

Naya sucked in a breath. “How did you do that?” That portal hadn’t been in the forest last time—or maybe she just hadn’t felt it.

Before she could say anything else, Akoro shoved her down onto the sand, flipping her onto her stomach.

“What are you doing?” She pushed against the ground, trying to rise, but his weight was already crushing her down.

Armor and muscle pressed into her back, a solid, immovable force pinning her against the shifting sand. She could barely breathe, let alone move. His nose buried into the back of her neck, inhaling deeply, while his hands skated over her hips, up her torso, down her legs.

A full-body claim.

Naya stiffened, her breath catching as his scent flooded her senses—rich, musky, and dark. It wrapped around her, seeped into her, burrowed into places she didn’t want to acknowledge. For a moment, just a moment, she didn't resist.

This was what her body had been craving—her Alpha.

The air thickened with his scent, undeniable and deep—rage, lust, jealousy, urgency.

His voice was rough, raw. “If I had time, I’d fuck you right now.” He grunted, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Spread my seed all over your body until you fucking stink of me.”

Something inside her twisted in excitement. For an instant, it didn’t seem so unappealing.

No. She shoved the thought out of her mind, squeezing her eyes shut against the rush of instinct clawing to the surface. That dumb, weak Omega part of her was reveling in this.

“Did that fucking idiot Alpha touch you?” he barked.

“No.”

He grunted, his hands sweeping down her legs, circling her ankles, running along her arms, pressing over her ribs. She quickly realized he was checking her body for some reason. She held still as his fingers mapped her body, sliding into hidden folds of fabric, even around her hair and scalp.

Then his breath brushed her ear. “Are you hurt? Did you get hurt when you attracted that magic?”

The rush within her turned into a flutter. She shook her head.

His exhale was deep, measured. Then one by one, he pulled her daggers from their hidden sheaths, stripped her of knives buried in her belt, her boots, even within the folds of her robe.

Finally, he pushed his nose back into her neck and breathed her in for a long moment.

Naya remained still, trying not to breathe in the sand. Everything would be easier once he worked through his possessive anger. After a long moment, he yanked her up. The world tilted, and she barely caught her balance before he shoved her forward. “Move.”

He trudged across the sand, angling left and pulled her with him. Ahead of him was a sprawling mass of the sand-colored tents she recognized, but it wasn’t quite the same. The camp was larger than before—tents stretched farther, their structures taller and sturdier.

Everything in her tightened at the sight of them, but she forced herself to stay focused. “How did you get us here?”

Akoro veered toward the group of nnirae that stood by the tents. “No questions,” he growled.

“You said you wouldn’t interfere with?—

“I won’t.” He gestured to the darkening sky. “You want today to be one of your fourteen? Because there isn’t much of it left.”

Naya stayed silent. He was right. If she was going to start one of her days, it needed to be in the morning.

Akoro led her toward his nnirae , the creature’s powerful form shifting restlessly beneath its saddle as a group of servants moved around it, attaching a cart to the back. The moment Naya saw it, wild panic surged too fast to stop, sharp and unexpected, clawing up her throat.

She had buried the memory—the desolation, the confusion, the pain—but seeing the cart again dragged it all back. For a moment, she couldn’t move. She hadn’t been expecting this.

Forcing the thoughts away, she swallowed hard, keeping her face impassive as Akoro turned toward her. He said nothing as he helped her into the cart, his grip firm, possessive, inescapable. The moment she was inside, he barked an order, and the servants erected the dome of magic over her.

Naya sat, her pulse still unsteady, as people rushed around her like they did when the camp was preparing to move. Yet the tents weren’t packed up.

It was strange to return to his land and arrive in the desert, which was so far from his city. Either this was the only place they could create a portal to the empire or they wanted to keep their invasion activities far away from their city.

Akoro mounted his nnirae , gripping the reins. The creature tossed its head, snorting softly, before trotting forward and then breaking into a gallop.

A sharp jolt ran through Naya’s body as the cart lifted from the sand. It was unnerving being back in the cart, and by all accounts back as his prisoner… except this time, she’d chosen to be here.

She sat back, forcing herself to breathe evenly as they picked up speed, the camp shrinking behind them, swallowed by the horizon. Several nnirae traveled alongside them, some pulled other carts filled with people and supplies, while some had soldiers seated on them. Still, why hadn’t the camp packed up this time?

Naya turned her gaze to the landscape stretched endlessly around them, the sand shifting under the darkening sky. This was a beautiful part of his land, at all times of the day, even if the sun was brutal. But… something about it felt different. Her body went rigid.

A ripple flickered over her senses—distant, but moving.

She stilled, tilting her head slightly, trying to determine what she was sensing. Vibrations simmered far in the distance, just beyond sight. It wasn’t a structure, like the portal or the magical dome surrounding her. It was erratic. Unstable.

Wild magic.

Her jaw tightened. She turned, scanning the horizon. The sensation wasn’t isolated—it was coming from two directions.

If they were traveling north, the magic pulsed from the west and southeast. And it was moving toward them.

Naya’s muscles coiled, her instincts sharpening.

She didn’t dare try to use her awareness… not yet. Not while in the desert, where the magic was much more dangerous. It was possible the sand or even the heat affected magic here. When she tried it, she needed to be in control, not trapped behind a magical dome on a moving cart. If she miscalculated, she could make things worse.

She stayed alert, tracking the movement as they traveled, monitoring the distance between them.

Gradually, both sources of magic faded into the background.

Only then did she allow herself to lean back and relax. Had the magic always been there, surrounding them in the desert? Akoro had said his people couldn’t travel across the desert without planning how to deal with it. Which referred back to the earlier question—why didn’t they create the portal closer to the city?

The cart bobbed rhythmically, the movement oddly lulling as the sky deepened into night. Settling back, Naya thought over her brief time at home, and how much everything had changed in the space of a couple of days. Her father’s fury, her mother’s revealing guidance, Drocan’s reasonings, and Mother Freya’s contempt.

The calm she had felt when facing Akoro’s army remained. It was a quiet certainty telling her she was doing the right thing.

This was her moment to prove her worth and show that she could be more than a nervous wreck. To become the leader her people needed her to be. She’d been holding back while they waited for her to be ready—she wouldn’t fail them. She couldn’t.

Above, the stars began to glint through the blackened sky, silver sparks against the endless stretch of night. They traveled for several hours before finally coming to a stop.

Akoro dismounted, his boots hitting the sand with a soft thud before he gathered with the soldiers. The servants dismounted from their carts and moved with practiced efficiency as they began unpacking supplies.

Naya watched, noting how they set up the same wash tent and campfires as before. It wasn’t until the cool air wrapped around her that she realized a servant had removed the dome of magic covering her cart. She could step out.

This time there were no guards assigned to her and no healer waiting with food and medicine. She climbed out slowly and stretched her legs. Darkness surrounded them, vast and unyielding, just as it had before. The wind whipped her hair, ruffled her tunic, carrying the sharp, dry scent of sunbaked sand cooling under the night air.

Nearby, the nnirae were gathered at the front of the camp, their powerful forms shifting in the dim light as a servant moved between them with feed. The carts were positioned at the center of the camp, the bathing tent set up at the back, while the campfires—already flickering with heat—were placed off to one side. Naya didn’t see how the servants erected the large magical domes that covered each of them, but just like before, the dome protected the fire and those who sat around it while eating, chatting, and sleeping.

The domes vibrated softly with structured magic, but it was insignificant compared to what she’d sensed earlier out in the desert.

A servant approached and gestured for her to follow. She was led to a campfire set apart from the others, the dome shimmering faintly as she stepped through it. A thick pile of blankets had been arranged for her, and as she settled onto them, another servant arrived, setting down a variety of dishes before her: creamy porridge, fragrant vegetable stew with soft flatbread, spiced meatballs glazed in a sticky sauce, rice, a plate of the two round furry fruits she had enjoyed last time, and a large tmae.

It was much more elaborate than the last time she was here.

The servant said something in their language, bowed, and left.

Naya stared at the food. She wasn’t hungry, but she didn’t remember eating at all today. Sighing, she pulled the dishes closer, examining them. She should eat something, and yet, she had no appetite. For the next hour or so, she nibbled at the food and stared into the black expanse of desert stretching endlessly around them.

Footsteps approached, and she lifted her head to see Prillu, her expression stiff and formal. “You will remain inside the nresh until morning,” she said, stiffly gesturing to the magical dome. “Use the blankets if you need them, but the fire will regulate the air inside until dawn. If you try to touch the flames, it will go out.” She pointed to the other side of the fire. “If you need a waste basin, it’s over there. Cover it with sand after you use it. You can bathe in the morning.”

Naya nodded, trying to keep up with what she was saying.

Prillu’s gaze dropped to the plates in front of her. “We won’t be eating again until this time tomorrow. There will be no breakfast and no lur-ennen . Eat as much as you can.”

“All right, thank you.” On impulse, she reached out and touched the magical dome encasing her. Her slipped through without pain or resistance. She raised a brow. “I notice you’re not strictly keeping me prisoner this time.”

Prillu remained stiff. “You’re here by your own choice. You know what roams these Sands. If you want to face a nnin-eellithi tonight, you’re welcome to try. Our army has stayed behind in the sand drift. They can reenter your empire at the zmola’s word.”

Naya dropped her hand, her mood plummeting. “Is that why they stayed behind?”

Prillu fixed her hands in front of her in a clasp, her shoulders twitching. “Yes.”

Instantly, Naya didn’t believe her. Prillu never moved her body like that before she answered a question. It was subtle, but it was enough. Prillu was a direct speaker who spoke carefully, but honestly. This might be the first time she had ever lied to Naya. But why lie about that? What is the real reason they stayed behind?

“What is a sand drift?” Naya asked.

Prillu’s eyes narrowed. Turning on her heel, she walked away.

Naya looked over the camp as it settled for the night. Soldiers held position at either end of the camp and the servants gathered around their own fires on the other side of the carts, their quiet voices drifting through the night. It was calmer and quieter than last time, but Prillu’s logic was correct and it was the same as the first time she came. If she were to run, where would she go?

Her gaze landed on Akoro. Half hidden behind the bathing tent, he was locked in conversation with Prillu, but… she squinted. He looked agitated. And so did she. Naya frowned. It didn’t look like an easy conversation. She slowly tore a piece of bread and dipped it into the rich stew, her movements slow as she studied them.

The last time she was here, Akoro’s council seemed like a dedicated, powerful group who supported everything he did. Yes, Nrommo occasionally disagreed, but no one else did. Now she was here again, it would benefit her to learn more about their dynamic—if there were any disagreements or sour histories she could capitalize on if it came to it. But, this interaction didn’t look like an argument—more like Prillu was saying some Akoro didn’t like.

Naya watched them, chewing slowly. She had no idea how his council would feel about her quest to find their elusive Solution. Prillu had offered the full support of the Sy Dynasty during negotiations, but Akoro probably wouldn’t have—so she at least seemed supportive of it. It was doubtful the rest of them would be.

Abruptly, Akoro broke away from the conversation, his posture rigid with contained frustration. Without another word, he turned and walked off, disappearing into the darkness.

Naya couldn't sleep at all during the night. She wasn't tired. From her body’s point of view, she only just woken up for the day a few hours ago, and she couldn't force the sleep. Besides, it was strange to be lying on sand while a suffocating darkness loomed in every direction.

The servants settled to sleep quickly, and she couldn’t see Akoro and Prillu. Prillu probably had a campfire out of her line of sight, but Akoro could be anywhere. After a while, she sat up crossed-legged, and stared out into the vast darkness, trying to see if he was out there somewhere. It wouldn’t surprise her if he regularly strayed away from the camp to practice, but it couldn’t be far. Otherwise her face wound would’ve opened up. She stared into the black surrounding her for a long while, the fire crackling softly.

Lying back down, she replayed the conversation with Mother Freya, trying to remember every word that the Mother had said. The old woman had been trying to tell her something much more significant about magic than just disrupting Akoro's magical items, which Naya no longer needed so urgently, but Naya had dismissed that and narrowed her focus. Now she wished she’d fucking listened.

The night deepened, stars burning cold and distant above her. Naya shifted on her blankets, the fine sand beneath them yielding slightly to her movements. The warmth of the fire never wavered. The magical dome ensured it never burned too hot, never faded into the chill of the desert night.

She stilled suddenly.

There it was again. Magic. This time coming from three distinct directions. She focused, letting her senses feel them—what they were and where they were. Each one was different.

The northern presence was chaotic and untamed, expanding in violent bursts before collapsing in on itself. The eastern magic moved slower, creeping with fractured, unstable edges, like a wound refusing to close. But the western one—it circled, traveling sideways like a predator testing boundaries.

Naya's mouth went dry. She sat upright, scanning the impenetrable darkness beyond the camp and seeing nothing but black void swallowing the faint glow of their fires. The camp was quiet, everyone sleeping, oblivious to the potential danger. What would stop these three from rushing in and obliterating the camp? Her pulse pounded as she lifted herself slightly, peering past the carts. Was this normal? To sleep while danger crept up on them?

Her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, drawing them to her chest as she tracked their movements. The easterly magic slowed its approach, but the western presence continued its predatory circling, gradually tightening its loop around the camp. The northern pulse remained distant but growing stronger.

Hours crawled by, and Naya remained vigilant, tracking the magical presences as they moved through the night. The western magic came closest, its essence almost tangible—turbulent and wild, the vibrations trembling under her skin—but she couldn’t see it. Her heart hammered against her chest as it hovered, and then slowly pulled back. She exhaled with relief, though her muscles remained coiled tight with tension.

Huddling deeper into her blankets, she thought through every way she could protect herself if the magic skipped across the sand to the camp, but ultimately, she wasn’t ready to face the wild magic again—not yet. Not without more investigation and preparation and research.

As the hours wore on, the eastern magic finally retreated, disappearing into the night. But the other two remained, sometimes drawing closer, sometimes receding, but never fully leaving. They were like predators, patient and calculating.

When the first hint of gray appeared at the horizon—not true dawn yet—Naya rose stiffly, her body aching. The darkness receded reluctantly, peeling back to reveal the vast emptiness of the desert. Naya scrutinized every direction.

There was nothing. No shimmering presence, no snapping tendrils, no physical manifestation of the magic she'd sensed all night. Yet she could still feel them. They were just out of view.

The camp stirred to life as true daylight spilled across the sands, casting hues of pale gold and soft amber. Servants dismantled the fire domes, packed bedding, and prepared the nnirae for travel. Naya watched them, eager to leave, tension still wound tight inside her.

Akoro appeared just as the final cart was packed, his thick frame cutting through the camp as he strode toward his nnirae . And a realization hit her—she hadn't seen him at all during the night. Where had he been while she sat awake, tracked danger that no one else seemed concerned about?

A slow, sharp coil of irritation wound through her stomach. He hadn't spoken a word to her since they started traveling. She exhaled sharply, shoving the irritation aside. What did she expect? For him to keep showing up in the night again like last time. Still… he couldn’t have been far away, so where had he been?

The Alpha approached his nnirae , the creature stamping impatiently as he checked the saddle straps with methodical precision. His movements were fluid but tense, shoulders rigid beneath his clothing. Even from where she stood, Naya could see the hard set of his jaw, the tightness around his eyes. Wherever he’d been, it seemed his mood hadn’t improved.

Of course, her stupid inner Omega reacted to him despite everything—her pulse quickening, skin warming as though she stood too close to one of the magical fire domes. It was infuriating. Even now, after everything, her inner Omega recognized him and still wanted him. Naya clenched her teeth, hating how easily her inner self betrayed her.

She should look away. But she didn’t.

Standing by his nnirae , Akoto finally turned his head. Their eyes caught for a fleeting moment—his dark gaze burning into hers with an intensity that stole her breath. Then he mounted his nnirae in one fluid motion and surged forward, the camp following.

Like Prillu had warned, they didn't stop other than to rest the nnirae until the sky had once again deepened to night. There was an urgency in their travel that hadn't been present before—a hurriedness in the servants' movements, a vigilance in the soldiers' postures as they scanned the horizon. Naya knew why. The wild magic—or as they called it, the nnin-eellithi . She could feel it occasionally as they traveled—surging toward them, circling, traveling alongside their caravan with predatory intent.

Sometimes it would disappear for hours, only to resurface with renewed vigor, closer than before. She found herself watching the horizon obsessively, searching for any visual sign of the magic's approach—a shimmer in the air, a distortion of the sand, anything. But there was nothing to see. No swirl of wind, no gathering darkness. Just endless sand stretching toward a sky that seemed to grow heavier with each passing hour.

That evening, Naya sat cross-legged at her campfire, the plates of spiced meats and fragrant rice untouched before her. Her fingers traced absent patterns in the sand as she stared into the darkness beyond the camp. A knot of worry had lodged itself deep within her chest, making it impossible to eat. She could feel the wild magic circling in the distance—testing, waiting. The vibrations brushed against her consciousness like fingers trailing over exposed skin, making her shudder. It was distracting.

"The food here may be foreign to your taste, but it will keep you alive."

Naya startled, her head snapping up to find Prillu standing at the edge of her magical dome, arms crossed and expression unreadable in the flickering firelight. She blinked up at her. “No… the food is delicious.” She hesitated. “Is it always like this?”

Prillu frowned. "What?"

She gesturing vaguely toward the darkness. "The wild magic. Is it... following us?"

Something flickered across Prillu's face. She was silent for a long moment. “You told the zmola your relationship with magic has changed. How?”

"I can sense it, feel it moving. They—what do you call it? The nnin… ."

“The nnin-eellithi ,” Prillu confirmed.

“ Nnin-eellithi ,” Naya repeated. “They each feel different.”

Prillu held her gaze. “And you didn’t feel it before?”

Naya shook her head. “No.” She looked up at Prillu, her brows furrowed. “But they must have always been there. Why don’t they attack?”

Prillu remained still for a moment. “What changed? Why do you feel them now when you didn’t before?”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Naya said evenly.

“Today is not one of your days,” Prillu said just as evenly back. “You’re not in danger. Just eat and sleep. We will leave before they can get close.”

Naya didn’t find her words reassuring, but at least they knew about them. “How are you monitoring them?” she asked. But Prillu was already walking away.

Even though she’d been awake for much longer than a day this time, Naya couldn’t sleep. With the magic as part of her senses, the night seemed alive around her, and she struggled to relax.

After hours of restless turning, Naya began methodically arranging her blankets, wrapping them around herself in tight, overlapping layers. The cocoon of fabric felt pathetically inadequate against the forces she sensed but couldn't see, but it made her feel better. She tucked her head beneath the edge of a particularly thick blanket, her breath hot and damp in the enclosed space, and she tried to steady herself.

The blankets shifted suddenly—pulled back from her face with deliberate force. Naya gasped, jerking upright, a wave of cool air rushing in.

Akoro knelt beside her, one hand still gripping the edge of her blanket. His sudden presence was a heavy weight of heat and power in the quiet mellowness of her campfire. She hadn’t even sensed his approach.

"What are you doing?"

The Alpha said nothing. Instead, he lowered himself beside her, pulled back the edge of her blanket cocoon and slid beside her, before she even had a chance to protest.

“What—stop! What are you doing? Get out.”

“Quiet,” he ordered, his larger body displacing her smaller one as he rearranged the blankets around them, trapping them both in their shared warmth. His voice—deep and resonant—burrowed into her, soothing the anxiety that had settled in her bones.

"I’m not having nightmares," she hissed, slamming the heels of her hands on his chest, trying to maintain some distance between their bodies. "I have nothing to explain?—"

“Every part of your body is calling for me,” he ground out fiercely, yanking her closer. “I cannot ignore you, no matter how angry I am.”

Angry? He was angry? Naya glowered at him, but with the blankets surrounding them, she could barely see his face. “Then leave,” she ordered. “I don’t need you.”

His arms tightened, his breath hot against her temple. “You’re tossing and turning and fretting.”

Naya stilled, alarmed. “I’m not!”

His hold didn’t loosen. “Be quiet and sleep.”

Naya’s mouth tightened, and she said nothing, because despite her anger and frustration, his presence was working against her, as it always did. The intimacy of the position couldn’t be denied—his breath stirring her hair, his steady heartbeat thudding against her cheek, strong and unshakable. And his scent—damn. It pushed into her lungs, thick and undeniable, a force that sank deep into her skin, into her blood, into her bones.

She couldn’t stop it and she didn’t know if she even wanted to.

The jittering coil of anxiety in her stomach unraveled, melted into something slow and liquid, her body welcoming what she refused. Why did he always have to smell so sinfully good?

She tried to focus beyond him, to feel for the magic hovering farther out, but she couldn’t sense it as clearly—not when her Alpha’s presence was so strong, and much more consuming. She hated that worked to calm her. That he had removed her worry just from being here.

They remained locked together; the Alpha holding the Omega, and their breathing slowed to a comfortable rhythm. Tiredness tugged at her, coaxing her toward sleep, but her mind resisted, turning over his behavior.

Naya shifted slightly, tilting her head just enough that her nose brushed his chin. “Why are you angry?” The words were supposed to be direct, firm, but they came out soft and quiet, almost on a sigh.

Akoro’s body tensed. “You left.” His words were rough, but while she could sense his anger, they were quiet too, as though the rough edge of his annoyance had dropped away. “Even though I warned you, you left in the most dangerous way.”

Naya made a soft noise in the back of her throat. “You are angry I chose not to be your captive anymore.”

The alpha said nothing.

She inhaled, voice barely above a whisper. “You are angry I chose not to be your mate.”

“That’s not your choice to make,” he snapped, the harsh grit of his voice laced with a dangerous possessiveness that rumbled through his chest.

Naya didn’t bother to argue. Because even though she vehemently disagreed, she could feel the certainty in his bones. Maybe he didn’t know how the bonding process worked, but it wasn’t true. It was her choice. She could have easily erased the connection they had with one bite from Lonn.

Her thoughts drifted, sifting through the history between her and Akoro, his determination to cut her with his blade, to keep her with him. Mama had said he treated her better after he realized what she was to him, but that wasn’t true. He’d cut her. And yet…

“Why did you promise I wouldn’t be hurt if I came?” she asked, the words slipping out on a tired mumble this time.

Akoro’s fingers brushed absently against her back. “You want to be hurt?” he asked, his annoyance still biting.

Naya tried to shrug, but her shoulders barely moved in the tight hold of his embrace. “You didn’t mind before.”

Akoro stiffened, the shift so sudden she could feel the change in his breathing. His voice was quiet, rough, when he finally spoke. “I do what I need to do so I can fulfill the promise I made to my people. You do the same.”

Naya’s brows knitted together. “You promised them you would torture the Omega princess of the green land?”

At that, he said nothing. His hand crept up and down her spine, each stroke drawing her deeper into comfort she didn't want to acknowledge. The rough pad of his thumb brushed the exposed skin at her nape, sending tendrils of heat slithering down her spine.

“The magic….” Her voice was thick with sleep. “Is it following us?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

Naya exhaled. She’d suspected as much. “Is it following me ?”

His hand stilled on her back. “You won’t be hurt.”

That meant yes. Naya let the answer settle. It made sense. Wild magic was attracted to Omegas, so traveling across the desert must attract them. She thought back to when she was here before—how they’d kept her covered with a magical dome while they traveled. How Akoro had sparred with her outside the camp, but under the shield of another dome. And when she was on horseback with him, nearing the city—one of the nnin-eellithi had appeared in the distance. “The domes disrupt my Omega signals?”

“Mostly,” he said roughly. “You don’t need to be concerned about it. Sleep.” His fingers resumed their slow path along her spine, each stroke stirring something inside her—fluttering, restless, dangerous.

Naya wanted to tell him she wasn’t concerned, that she just wanted to understand. But sleep took her before she could form the words.

The next day, she woke with a sharp inhale. For the first time in six years, no brutal, gruesome nightmares had wrenched her from sleep screaming. Instead, strange and unsettling dreams simmered at the edge of her consciousness—lingering impressions she couldn’t grasp upon waking.

She exhaled slowly, blinking into the dimness of early dawn.

Akoro was gone.

He had left her wrapped in the blankets, warm and cocooned in lingering traces of his scent. A quiet relief settled in her chest, though… somewhere deep inside, she was also disappointed.

She stilled and focused for a moment, seeing if she could sense any wild magic. But there was nothing. No vibrations curled at the edges of the horizon.

The camp was already stirring. The dome of magic covering her had been removed, and a servant gestured toward the wash tent. She followed without question.

Once again, they packed up swiftly, moving with efficiency honed by routine, and Akoro didn’t arrive until they were ready to travel. As he strode toward his nnirae , his gaze flicked to her, something smoldering beneath the surface.

Naya stilled. It hit her then—he had come to her last night. Not to question her about her nightmares, or order her to spar with him or demand to use her, but simply to comfort her. Without sex.

The realization unsettled her more than it should have.

Before she could dwell on it, he mounted in a smooth, effortless motion, and without a word, they set off.

That evening, Naya managed to eat a small amount of the food. Prillu did not approach again, so she spent the night tracking the magic, feeling it pulse at a distance, testing the edges of her awareness.

When it was time to sleep, she didn’t burrow into her blankets as she had before. Instead, she simply pulled them around her, leaving her face open to the cool night air. The fabric still carried Akoro’s scent, and when she tucked herself in tightly enough, the warmth of it seeped into her bones, easing her into sleep.

During the night, a soft crackling noise pulled her from slumber. Naya blinked into the darkness, disoriented for a moment. The camp was quiet. The fires had burned low, the occasional ember flickering up disoriented.

Something shifted. A quiet rustling just beyond the dying light of her fire.

Frowning, she squinted into the shadows, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Akoro stood a few feet away, his thick frame partially silhouetted against the night as he brushed his nnirae’s long head with one hand, feeding it with the other.

Naya stilled, watching him.

The nnirae barely moved, standing still as Akoro worked, the rhythmic strokes of his hand trailing over its smooth hide. Once his hand was empty, he moved on to brushing the creature’s body, slow, methodical, and practiced.

There was something strange about watching him do something normal, the calm, unhurried way he worked, and seeing him in a moment that wasn’t about power or conquest or cruelty, but simply a task to be done well. It felt strangely normal—like he could be an Alpha at the stables at home, tending to his beast in the quiet of night, his thick, powerful form flexing with each controlled motion simply for the pleasure of doing the work the way an Alpha could.

Naya pulled her eyes away, wrestling with herself. It fucking annoyed her that at every opportunity, the blindly obedient Omega within her—the one Akoro actually wanted—bestowed wholly positive thoughts about him. That weak part of her was always watching, always ready to be impressed by his looks, his strength, his manner—always waiting, hoping to touch him, to smell him, to please him. And she was disappointed that hadn’t come to cuddle her tonight. Ugh .

Naya hadn’t fully thought about what she’d agreed to endure, but she’d have to face it. Especially since it was getting exhausting fighting her own body constantly. Last time, after her heat, she closed in on herself, disengaged from the world—she couldn’t do that this time, not when her actions directly affected the empire. She had to find a way to survive him.

She’d told him she’d be his whore—that she’d whore herself out for her empire, and clearly that was true because she was here in his land again, knowing what he would do with her. So what if… what if she didn’t fight it?

Her eyes couldn’t help but wander back to him. He’d moved onto combing the nnirae’s short, spiky mane with focus, care, and precision. He was an incredibly handsome man. Whether in armor or in regal wear, he exuded dominance, an unshakable force of nature. There couldn’t be another Alpha in the empire—or anywhere—who was as handsome, as perfect, as her own Alpha.

The thought should have disgusted her, made her want to rip herself apart for even thinking it.

Instead, she sighed and fixed herself on her side where she could watch him. Soon, she’d have to decide whether she was going to keep fighting their true mate attraction, but right now, at this exact moment, it was safe to enjoy looking at him. He didn’t know she was watching; he had no idea she was even awake. She couldn’t see his dark eyes locking onto hers, or smell his intoxicating scent, or hear his resonant voice curling through her stomach. She could barely see him at all—just a silhouette in the darkness. So, for now, this was safe.

As he moved on to tending the nnirae’s feet, Naya let herself relax, allowing the rhythmic strokes of his hands to lull her.

She kept watching, her eyes growing heavier. And eventually, she fell back asleep.

The next several days followed the same rhythm. They rode for the entire day, only stopping at night to eat and sleep. The urgency in their travel never waned—if anything, it sharpened, pressing into every movement, every decision.

Each night, Naya woke to find Akoro grooming his nnirae . It wasn’t particularly strange—this journey was far more grueling than last time, and the nnirae required constant care. Every rider ensured their mounts were fed and watered immediately upon dismounting, their feet inspected, their coats brushed down. Some needed treatment for cracked skin or sore joints, and when the tending was complete, they were positioned away from the firelight, where the darkness would settle them into rest.

It was strange that Akoro never seemed to sleep. He was the only one who tended to his own mount, and he always did so when the camp had gone quiet. On the third night, it occurred to Naya that Akoro had been awake at night the last time they’d done this journey—that’s how he’d known about her nightmares.

But this time, other than the night he had climbed into her blankets, Akoro hadn’t touched her again. He hadn’t spoken to her. He had all but disappeared in the evenings, only to be nearby with his nnirae late at night when she was supposed to be asleep. Her inner Omega was heavily dismayed by this. She wailed that this wasn’t normal—that her Alpha should be giving her abundant attention, soothing and praising her. She was half convinced that she’d to have displeased him, but Naya firmly ignored those thoughts. Akoro’s sudden absence or disinterest was disconcerting, but it was better this way.

But then, things got worse.

One night, she had another dream-memory of her heat and woke up abruptly, her back arching, a breathless whine escaping before she could stop it. Her thighs were sticky with slick, her heart raced, and she mindlessly searched for her Alpha. His neck, his chest. Where was his scent? It was a few moments before she even realized what she was doing, and she panted, coming to her senses.

A slow, deliberate movement beyond the campfire caught her eye.

Naya stilled.

Akoro stood at the edge of her magical dome, his body rigid, his gaze locked on hers.

Her stomach dropped.

The look in his eyes was molten, unfiltered, raw with hunger. A dark desire that sent a violent shiver down her spine. It both terrified and thrilled her.

Her heartbeat jumped into a quick thrum. She sat up, drawing her knees to her chest beneath the thin blanket, suddenly aware of how exposed she felt despite being fully clothed. The air grew charged the longer their eyes remained in the weighted gaze, aware of each other.

Akoro moved toward her, the campfire highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the fullness of his lips now hitched in a dangerous snarl. His nostrils flared slightly; he could smell her arousal, she realized with a flush of heat. The thought should have mortified her, but it sent another rush of heat spiraling through her body—shame, desire and delight tangled so tightly she couldn’t separate them.

Akoro stepped inside the dome.

Her breath caught as he closed the distance in one fluid motion, lowering himself beside her, his hand fisting the blanket covering her. And then, with a sharp pull, he ripped it away, exposing her to the cool night air.

Naya gasped, her skin prickling with goosebumps, her arms tightening around her knees. His scent was thick with arousal—musky, potent, devastatingly intoxicating.

His demand was soft and deadly. “Open.”

A high-pitched trembling hum caught in her throat. She should say no. She wanted to say no. Didn’t she? The alpha she’d been yearning for in the quiet of the night was here in all his beautiful, dominant glory. Why wouldn’t she want that?

“I can already smell that you’re dripping, tmot zia. ” His voice was deceptively soft. “Your hard little nipples are aching for my mouth. Your sweet slick cannot go to waste. I want it on my tongue. I’ve missed it. You’ve missed me too. You need my scent, and my presence, and your gushing cunt needs knotting.”

Naya nodded, breathless, mindless. It was true.

Grit entered his tone, sharpening the demand into something fiercer. “Open.”

Naya breathed heavily. A tremor ran through her as she dropped her hands, spreading her legs in surrender.

The Alpha didn’t wait. He yanked her hips toward him, his mouth sealing over her with devastating force. A broken cry escaped her lips, her back arching as his tongue worked her with ruthless precision. Pleasure surged through her, coiling tight, unbearable, his low growl vibrating against her core.

Her arms buckled, the sensations too much, and she collapsed onto her back, gasping. He pushed up her tunic, rough hands finding her breasts, groping, palming, pinching hard enough to make her whimper. A dark groan ghosted over her sensitive flesh and he dragged her closer, as though he couldn’t get enough.

A fierce, uncontrollable madness coiled inside her, winding tighter with every stroke of his tongue. Akoro devoured her with ruthless greed, pinning her body exactly how he wanted it, leaving her no room to escape, no space to think. All at once the coil snapped, pleasure tearing through her in a violent, breathtaking rush. A strangled moan broke from her lips as her body shuddered, jerking helplessly beneath him.

She barely had time to recover before the Alpha rose, his lips glistening in the firelight. He moved without hesitation, hands already unbuckling his pants, shoving them down to free himself. His intent was clear—he was fulfilling his promise, the raw feral hunger in his gaze feral with anticipation. But just as he came forward, seeking her entrance, something at the edge of her attention prickled.

A vibration, rumbling and rolling in the distance.

Her breath caught. Her mind clawed through the lingering haze of pleasure, trying to grasp what it was. The nnin-eellithi— not just one, more than she could count. Before she could say anything, Akoro’s nnirae suddenly pawed at the ground, tossing its head violently.

Akoro jerked his head toward it, his entire body tensing. He got to his feet and peered into the darkness. Then a low, guttural growl rippled through its chest, and the other nnirae began shifting uneasily, their movements sharp and restless.

Akoro jumped up, buckling his pants in one swift motion. "We need to move. Now."

Naya was already scrambling for her clothes. “What do we do? There’s a lot of them.”

“How many?”

Naya tried to calm, forcing herself to feel past the frantic edge of panic and count them. “Seven. No, eight.” The amount sent a chill through her.

The other travelers were stirring now, alerted by the nniraes’ increasingly agitated sounds.

Akoro strode across the camp, barking commands, but Naya barely heard him. Her nerves jangled, her body still thrumming from both pleasure and the growing awareness of danger. Both Prillu and Akoro had said the magic wouldn’t reach her, and now….

Akoro stormed back over with a bag on his back and grabbed her arm. “Come.”

“What’s happening?” she breathed.

He pulled her toward his nnirae and lifted her onto the creature’s back before swinging up behind her. His chest pressed flush against her spine, his arm wrapping tightly around her waist. The sharp scent of his urgency enveloped around her, heavy with command.

"Hold tight," he ordered, and then they were moving, the powerful creature beneath them launching into a gallop that stole the breath from Naya's lungs.

Behind them, the camp erupted into activity as others prepared to flee, but Naya couldn't focus. To their left, the nearest nnin-eellithi came so close she could see it, swirling in a maelstrom of wild, uncontrolled magic twisted and writhed against the dark night. It was faster than she remembered.

Akoro's nnirae ran harder, its muscles bunching and stretching in a blur of impossible speed. The wind lashed against her, tugging her hair in violent whips, until it was hard to even breathe. Akoro reached forward and secured a mask over her nose and mouth before pushing her head down. “Keep your head down,” he ordered.

She obeyed, but even without seeing the magic, she could feel it. Eventually, most of the nnin-eellithi fell away, but one followed, its presence a seething force.

For hours it stalked them, always just behind them, close enough that Naya could feel its wild power prickling her skin. Just like the wild magic in the wastelands, there was something beautiful and terrifying about it—natural, unbound—sparks of energy arcing like lightning within its mass.

Akoro held her tightly against him, his body shielding hers from the worst of the wind's bite. Despite the danger, despite everything, Naya found herself drawing comfort from his presence, from the steady beat of his heart against her back.

Finally, as the first pale light of dawn broke, structures appeared on the horizon—ruins rising from the desert floor like a mirage.

"Onn Kkulma," Akoro murmured in her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

The city appeared before them like a dream materialized from sand and stone. Relief softened her body; she’d never been so glad to see the city of her previous capture.

As they approached the ruins, the magical storm finally slowed, as if it dared not enter, but the nnirae did not slow. It thundered forward, through the ruins and onto to palace at the heart of the city—the place where she would attempt to bring order to the wild magic that plagued Akoro's lands.

The place where she would save her people—or lose herself completely to the Alpha she could never escape.