Page 49

Beside him, Naya shifted almost imperceptibly.

She was watching the reunion with fascination, her lips slightly parted, and he found himself cataloging every detail of her reaction.

The way her breathing had quickened, the flush creeping up her neck, the unconscious way she leaned closer to him as though drawn by the same magnetic force.

“Please, sit,” Oshrun said, gesturing to cushions arranged around a low stone table. The positioning was deliberate—equals meeting equals, with Naya positioned between them as mediator.

“Princess Naya has outlined your proposed solution,” Oshrun continued, her amber eyes darting between them with sharp intelligence. “I would hear the details from you directly.”

Akoro forced his attention back to the negotiation, though part of his awareness remained fixed on the woman beside him.

He explained the plan with military precision—the binding ritual, the magical convergence, the risks they would both face.

Each time he mentioned Naya’s role, possessive heat flared in his chest at the idea of her in danger.

Oshrun listened with sharp attention, asking pointed questions about timing and execution.

Her intelligence was evident in every query, her understanding of magical theory far more sophisticated than he’d expected.

This wasn’t a desperate leader grasping at any hope—this was a strategist evaluating all angles.

“Using the nnol ttaehh mael technique,” she said when he finished, her tone carefully neutral.

“Yes,” Akoro replied without hesitation. “Modified to bind magic to a place rather than a person.”

“A technique your family created to enslave our people.” Her words cut like a blade, testing his response with precision.

The accusation hung in the perfumed air between them. Akoro noticed Naya’s attention sharpen beside him, her body tensing as she waited for his answer.

“Yes,” he said, meeting Oshrun’s penetrating gaze directly. “A technique my family used to commit atrocities I spent my entire adult life trying to atone for.”

The directness seemed to surprise her. Beside him, Naya’s subtle relaxation sent approval radiating from her in waves that made his chest swell with pride. Her good opinion mattered more than any political victory.

“You speak of atonement,” Oshrun said, leaning forward slightly. “What does that look like beyond this crisis?”

“Full integration like you asked for,” Akoro said, hoping he sounded as committed as he felt.

“Recognition of Ilǐa as an autonomous district with equal standing. Protection under law for all Omegas. And...” He paused, deciding on a choice that would change everything.

“Public acknowledgment of what my family did, and formal reparations to your community.”

Nrommo shifted almost imperceptibly—this was clearly the first time he’d heard such specific commitments.

Naya’s hand moved slightly on the cushion beside him, close enough that he could sense the warmth radiating from her skin.

The urge to reach for her, to claim that connection openly, was almost overwhelming.

“I won’t insult you by pretending history doesn’t matter,” he continued, his eyes moving briefly to Naya before returning to Oshrun.

“I won’t claim that using this method for salvation erases what it was used for before.

But if we refuse to use knowledge that could save lives simply because of how it was acquired, we still lose, just in a different way. ”

Oshrun’s amber eyes bore into him with the weight of absolute judgment.

She wasn’t just weighing his words—she was measuring the man behind them, testing whether he possessed the wisdom to be trusted with secrets that could destroy everything her people had built. The very air seemed to hold its breath.

“You’re asking us,” she said finally, “to trust you with our lives based on promises about a future that may never come.”

“No,” Akoro said, his gaze finding Naya and lingering there with undisguised hunger.

The sight of her—beautiful, intelligent, fierce—sent heat spiraling through his veins, and pride searing his heart.

“I’m asking you to trust her. Princess Naya has seen the worst of me and still believes this plan can work.

If you trust her judgment, then you can trust this alliance. ”

The words carried more weight than mere political strategy. They carried the truth of his complete faith in the woman beside him, his willingness to stake everything on her wisdom and strength. Naya’s scent shifted, making his nostrils flare with an answering hunger.

Oshrun studied him with the intensity of someone weighing lives in the balance. Around them the chamber seemed to hold its breath, crystal light playing across ancient carvings while incense smoke curled toward the opening above.

When she finally spoke, her question was simple but loaded with meaning that made the air itself seem to darken. “If this plan fails and Princess Naya is killed in the attempt, what will you do?”

The chamber went dead silent. The muscle beneath his beard twitched, but when he answered, his voice was rough with barely controlled irritation and absolute certainty. “I would burn the world to ash.” His dark eyes never left Oshrun’s face. “Then I would follow her into whatever comes after.”

Beside him, Naya’s breathing increased. The primitive satisfaction of having affected her so deeply warred with the vulnerability of having exposed his heart so completely.

“Even though your people would need you?”

“This is for my people. This is the single biggest effort to help Tsashokra since the Tri-Dynasty era, and my Omega is at the helm.” The words came out flat, final, carrying the weight of absolute truth. “What more could I do for them if I failed to protect her?”

Something shifted in Oshrun’s expression, understanding passing across her features like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. She glanced at Naya, taking in the subtle signs of arousal and emotional response, then back to Akoro with what might have been approval.

“Very well,” she said, rising from her carved seat with fluid grace. “We support the plan.”

Relief flooded through Akoro and he silently exhaled.

“However,” Oshrun continued, “before we proceed, there’s someone your brother should meet.” Her amber eyes shifted to Oppo’s face, and something warm softened her formal demeanor. “If you would come with me?”

Oppo rose on unsteady legs, years of longing blazing in his expression. Oshrun moved to a door at the chamber’s far side, pausing to look back at the rest of them.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable. This may take some time.”

They disappeared through the opening, leaving Akoro alone with Naya and Nrommo in the crystal-lit chamber. The battle chief immediately moved to examine the carved walls more closely, his professional curiosity overriding diplomatic protocol now that the formal negotiations had concluded.

“Come,” Akoro said to Naya, his voice rougher than intended. “Let’s see what’s happening.”

He led her to a narrow window carved into the chamber’s wall, one that offered a view of a small courtyard garden below. What they saw there made his chest tighten.

Oshrun knelt in the garden, speaking softly to a little girl who clung to her robes with obvious shyness.

The child wore a bright yellow dress, her hair styled in intricate braids.

When Oppo appeared, moving slowly so as not to frighten her, the little girl’s wide eyes studied his face with curious intensity.

“Nnimi,” he murmured.

“She’s beautiful,” Naya whispered beside him, her voice thick with emotion.

Akoro could only nod, transfixed by the scene unfolding below. Oppo was kneeling now, bringing himself to the child’s level, his hands trembling as he withdrew something from his robes. Even from this distance, Akoro could see it was the drawing—Naya’s gift to his brother.

The little girl’s face lit up with recognition and delight as she examined the artwork.

She moved closer to Oppo, abandoning her mother’s protective proximity to point at details in the drawing with animated excitement.

When she reached out to touch his face—her tiny fingers brushing away tears, he was trying to hide—Oppo’s composure finally cracked completely.

Watching his brother’s overwhelming joy, his careful reverence as he held his daughter for what might have been only the second time in her life, something fundamental shifted inside Akoro.

This was what real love looked like—sacrifice, patience, putting another’s well-being above your own desperate needs.

But more than that, it was what true partnership could create.

Oppo and Oshrun had created this together, this perfect little person who was loved and cherished and safe.

They’d made the hardest choices, endured years of separation, all to protect what they’d loved.

And yet here they were—Oshrun commanding respect from her entire community while openly loving an Alpha. She wasn’t diminished by their bond. If anything, she seemed more powerful for it, more complete.

The contrast struck him with uncomfortable force. Here was his brother, reuniting with his mate and child in full view of her community, their connection celebrated despite the years of secrecy it had required. While Naya...

Naya stood beside him now as she would be standing beside him to face the nnin-eellithi storm.

She wanted this kind of partnership—to support and uplift and rule as equals.

It’s what her parents had, what she had been searching for, and what he knew she had wanted of him.

She believed that him taking her as his prisoner had destroyed that possibility, but even if they hadn’t met that way, would the man he was even have been able to be that person?

Akoro ruled from total and complete domination.

He never thought about a mate, and even if he’d found her, he wouldn’t expect her to be equal—he wouldn’t have wanted her to be.

Tsashokra was his responsibility and he wasn’t going to entrust his vow on someone who could fuck everything up.

All of those thoughts and behaviors were in direct opposition to what he was currently doing.

He’d just told the Khesh to trust Naya’s judgment, not his own. Was she doing more for his people than he had? Did that mean he’d failed his people? Even though he was putting his life and his mate’s life on the line to save everyone?

Something about that made him off-balance in a way that made his stomach roil with discomfort.

“Akoro,” Naya said softly, and he turned to find her watching him with those beautiful brown eyes that seemed to see straight through his carefully constructed walls. “Are you all right?”

The simple question, asked with such honest concern, nearly undid him. She stood close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in her irises.” Yes,” he said, his voice gritty and rough. “Just thinking about what this means.”

And the longer he stood there watching his brother unite with his family, years of solitude, loneliness, and agony sliding from his shoulders, the more certain Akoro was in his decisions.

Allowing these Omegas to save their world, giving them the respect and authority they deserved, right his wrongdoings, started to loosen the shame and guilt and anger.

Maybe it meant he wasn’t overtly like his family, who would have had an army here the moment Naya walked into the Isshiran Sands with magical protection.

Below in the garden, Oshrun stepped beside her mate and their daughter, the three of them forming a perfect picture of family harmony. A family that existed openly, proudly, despite every obstacle that had tried to keep them apart.

“We need to get the maps and plans Oshrun and her assembly have prepared and then prepare to leave,” Naya said quietly, though her gaze lingered on the reunion below. “We’ll need to reach the ritual site with enough time to set up properly.”

“Yes,” Akoro agreed, but something nagged at him as he watched his brother’s happiness.

Something about the foundations upon which real partnerships were built, but he pushed the thought aside.

There would be time to examine those uncomfortable realizations later. Right now, they had a storm to stop.

But the image of Oppo’s joy, of Oshrun’s proud strength, of little Nnimi’s perfect innocence, all of it burned into his memory. A reminder of what was possible when people chose love over control. When they chose each other completely, without reservation or hidden conditions.

The thought followed him as they prepared to leave the canyon, a whisper of possibility both terrifying and inevitable. But for now, he buried it beneath the immediate demands of saving his kingdom.

There would be time for truth later. There had to be