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CHAPTER THREE

T he weight of Akoro's battle armor pressed against his skin with brutal familiarity.

Black metal plates encased his broad chest and shoulders, the steel cold despite the heat beginning to build outside.

Dark leather strips reinforced with metal guarded his thighs and forearms, the material supple yet unyielding—much like the fury pulsing through his veins.

This wasn't ceremonial attire meant to inspire or impress. This was the armor of conquest, of blood and vengeance. Of hunting what belonged to him.

He strode from his chambers toward the stables, his boots echoing against the stone corridors. Every step carried the weight of barely contained violence. His Omega had vanished in a blaze of magic, torn from him by forces he didn't understand.

His nnirae waited in the stables, already prepared. The massive creature turned its head at his approach, nostrils flaring as it caught his scent. Restless energy rippled beneath its beige hide—the beast sensed his mood, responding to the tension radiating from him.

He heard footsteps behind him and knew without turning whose they were. Nrommo's boots struck the ground with military precision, which mirrored the battle chief's rigid posture. "I've already ordered preparations for the troop, my king. We should discuss strategy before?—"

“No.” The word cut through the air as he adjusted his riding gloves with sharp, aggressive movements. Recognizing the finality in Akoro’s tone, Nrommo nodded and left.

Heavy footsteps announced another arrival. Oppo led his own nnirae into the grounds, positioning the beast beside Akoro's. Minimal armor covered his broad frame, but determination etched every line of his features. "I'm coming with you."

Akoro studied his brother's face—the squared shoulders, the set jaw, the unwavering gaze. He'd rarely seen Oppo so resolute, and a familiar spark of jealousy ignited in his chest. His brother's connection with Naya always stirred something primal within him.

Oppo seemed to sense it. "When you told me you were taking an Omega from the Lox Empire, I vowed I would ensure her health and safety," he said, his voice carrying an intensity Akoro rarely heard from him. "Even though she was your prisoner, I was always trying to make sure she was looked after."

"This isn't your responsibility, Oppo?—"

"It's all of our responsibility." Oppo's tone sharpened. "She is an Omega. We should all be ensuring her well-being. If she needs healing when you find her, what do you plan to do?"

The question gave him pause. As much as he hated admitting it, Oppo understood Omegas in ways he never would. Right now, Naya's safety mattered more than his possessive instincts.

“Fine,” he uttered, turning back to his nnirae .

By the time Prillu arrived, a small troop of his army stood assembled and ready. The diplomat's movements carried rigid unease as she approached, her professional mask barely concealing apprehension.

"My king. Before we depart, we should discuss how to approach?—"

"No. We leave now." Akoro swung himself onto his nnirae with fluid grace. "I won't delay our departure with needless planning."

"Charging into Otenyo's district with armed warriors will be seen as direct provocation," Prillu warned. "The alliance between districts is already fragile after the presence of nnin-eellithi in the city. Otenyo’s district won’t survive your force, and the storm it will cause will spread beyond Ntorkkan.”

“Then let it,” Akoro said, the words a blade.

Prillu’s posture shifted, shoulders drawing tight. “That’s not a king speaking, that’s an Alpha with a wound.”

Fury surged, hot and immediate, but Akoro held it. He glared at her—tense and silent. The old Prillu would have said something like this. He used to welcome it, because she never lied to him.

And she wasn’t lying now.

Yes, he wanted blood. That part was simple. But there was another part of him that was quieter, colder. A part of him that had learned patience, the same part that had patiently planned the Lox invasion over years.

His jaw clenched, but the fury didn’t leave him. It just changed shape—folded inward, sharp and waiting “We’ll strategize as we ride.” Prillu nodded, and they moved to their mounts and prepared to leave.

He led the procession from the palace grounds, the thunderous rhythm of nnirae feet matching the furious beating of his heart. Oppo rode beside him, keeping pace effortlessly despite the punishing speed Akoro set.

"Starting a war with Otenyo is worth it if they've taken Naya," Oppo said, his voice low, “but you must be sure before you act."

Akoro didn’t answer. If she had been taken by Otenyo, he’d make sure there was nothing left of Ntorkkan to remember.

His jaw locked as they rode through the city.

Streets blurred past, citizens pressing against walls, ducking into doorways, eyes wide with alarm.

Their faces reflected the same expressions he'd witnessed during his father's reign—the terror of their ruler's unpredictable wrath.

He'd sworn never to make them look that way under his rule.

And yet here he rode, armor gleaming, dragging a troop across the desert.

He would tear down the fragile peace between districts, risk civil war, all because one Omega had vanished.

No .

Not one Omega. Her .

Copper hair. Defiant eyes. A body that yielded beneath his hands. The silence she'd left behind was vast, gnawing, and unbearable. The only woman who had ever made him hesitate.

He'd promised his people stability. Security. A future free from the tyranny that had marked the Sy Dynasty for generations. He'd killed his own father to give them that promise.

Now he would break it without hesitation.

A thread of unease wound through his certainty as they journeyed across the Sands, heat shimmering around them in waves.

For the first time, doubt about his suitability to rule twisted in his gut like a blade.

He gritted his teeth, pushing the thought aside.

He would find her, then he would figure out what kind of king he had become.

The scorching sun beat down as they travelled the golden dunes, leaving Onn Kkulma behind. Akoro rode ahead, needing distance, silence. Behind him, voices murmured—Oppo, Prillu, and Nrommo discussing the coming confrontation in low, urgent tones.

Let them plan. Let them worry about diplomacy and consequences. His mind fixed on one thing only: finding Naya.

They were halfway to Otenyo's district when scorching heat suddenly blazed at his hip. The sensation grew rapidly, from warmth to searing pain radiating through the leather where his ceremonial dagger rested in its sheath.

Confusion creasing his brow, Akoro slowed his nnirae .

He reached down, unsheathed the blade—the same weapon he'd used to mark Naya's face, to bind her to him—and shock stole his breath.

His dagger glowed red-hot, steam rising from the metal as it met the desert air.

Heat waves distorted the space around it, the blade pulsing with unnatural fire.

Akoro pulled his mount to a complete stop, staring at the weapon in disbelief. His heart hammered against his ribs. This heat wasn't random. It meant one thing. The nnol ttaehh mael had been removed, and not by him. Someone had taken what he’d marked—what was his—and undone it.

A dark, unfamiliar chill rolled through his chest accompanied by relief. Someone out there knew the Dynasty’s deepest magic. But they had healed his Omega. He watched the glow fade from his knife, the metal cooling until it appeared normal once again.

"Akoro?" Oppo's voice broke through his stupor. "Why have you stopped?"

For a moment, words failed him. Akoro held up the now-cool blade. "The nnol ttaehh . It burned. Her wound has been removed."

Oppo stared at the dagger, his eyes wide. He dragged a hand across his face. "That would mean?—"

“Who the fuck would know how to do that?” Akoro asked, his voice low and sharp. "No one outside our family knows how to remove it."

Prillu and Nrommo had caught up but held their mounts back, sensing the tension in the air.

Oppo's gaze remained fixed on the blade. "Could Otenyo have found a way?"

Akoro shook his head sharply. "The knowledge is guarded more closely than any other secret of the Sy Dynasty. It's impossible."

"And yet, someone knows how." Oppo gestured toward the dagger.

Akoro didn’t answer. A cold certainty settled in his bones. This was no longer just about Naya disappearing. This was about power shifting in ways he hadn’t foreseen.

"At least she won't bleed to death," Oppo said finally, relief flooding his tone.

It was a thought Akoro should’ve found comforting but the idea someone else could remove her connection to him, no matter how dangerous, alarmed him.

"This does complicate things though." Oppo's tone dropped to low murmur. "Whoever removed the nnol ttaehh mael possesses knowledge from the height of our dynasty's power. They're potentially hostile to our rule."

“Yes,” Akoro said slowly, a different thought dawning. "This could have nothing to do with the districts at all."

Oppo made a noise in the back of his throat. “Your instincts to retrieve your mate are strong, Akoro. And that’s normal. But we have to be careful. We don’t know what or who we’re dealing with.”

Heat surged through Akoro’s veins, rage threatening to overwhelm rational thought. Then, with visible effort, he reined in his fury, forcing clarity into his mind. Oppo spoke the truth.

"Something isn't right," he agreed, sheathing the dagger with care. "We need to approach with more caution. Draw them out. Follow solid information—anything that might lead us to her."

Oppo nodded. “We need intelligence.”

Akoro twisted in his saddle. "Nrommo."

The battle chief directed his nnirae alongside Akoro's mount. "Change of plan. I'll continue with a smaller contingent of our men. Take the rest of the troop back to the nearest outpost and await my orders."