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“But she did not save us alone. She forged alliances with people I had banished—peoples whose very existence I buried beneath lies and silence.”

His chest rose in a smooth sharp breath.

“You have heard whispers,” he said. “Rumors of Omegas who once lived among us, were enslaved by the Sy Dynasty. Those whispers are truth.” Utterings of disgust rose up from the crowd, but he continued on, “For years, I have actively concealed their history from you. I have hidden how they suffered at the hands of my family, how their enslavement was the root cause of the magical devastation that has plagued us.”

The crowd’s murmur rose louder, horror and confusion warring in thousands of faces.

“But these Omegas are the ones who made it possible for Princess Naya to save us from more destruction,” he said.

“They deserve our respect, our support, our acknowledgment of the wrongs we have done them. Soon you will meet the newly titled, Soge Oshrun. Princess Naya has forged an alliance with our three peoples—Tsashokran, Lox, and the Ilia Omegas—and will build something greater and more prosperous than I ever could have achieved alone.”

“And I,” Akoro said, his voice now thick with love so profound it seemed to transform the very air around him, “who tortured my own mate, who carved scars into the soul the Voices chose for me—I love her. I love her with every breath in my body, every beat of my heart, every fiber of my worthless being.”

The confession hung in the desert air like incense, sacred and devastating.

“I love the woman I destroyed,” he continued, self-loathing and devotion warring in his voice as he built toward his final crescendo.

“I love the mate I desecrated. I love the savior I kept chained to me rather than honoring her as the queen she has always been. I have been the same king my family was. Taking what I wanted. Treating others as tools for my ambitions rather than equals deserving honor.”

The repetitive structure hypnotized the crowd, drew them deeper into his web of confession and condemnation.

“I cannot continue ruling while dishonoring the woman who saved us all, a woman I love,” he declared, his voice building to that resonant power that seemed to shake the very foundations of the ancient city.

“I cannot honor the vow I made to you, my people who have put so much trust and faith in me. I have failed so completely. Princess Naya deserves better than a king who would keep her hidden. You deserve better than a ruler who repeats the mistakes that nearly destroyed our people.”

Another pause—shorter this time.

“Therefore,” and now his voice rang with finality that made the desert air itself seem to still, “I abdicate the throne of Tshashokra.”

The words struck like lightning.

Horror clawed at Naya’s throat at the full magnitude of his political suicide forming before her.

“No,” she breathed, the word torn from her chest like a prayer. Her hands trembled against the stone balustrade as she watched him conduct his own destruction with masterful precision. “Prillu, he can’t—they need him.”

Because she knew. She had seen him in the last few weeks navigate the impossible politics of a fractured kingdom, had watched him forge alliances from blood feuds, had witnessed him making decisions that would break lesser rulers.

She had studied his council meetings, observed how he balanced a dozen competing factions with the skill of a master strategist. There was no one else—no heir trained in the brutal art of desert politics, no general with his combination of tactical brilliance and political cunning.

This man—this brilliant, flawed, impossible man—was dismantling the one thing that could save his people.

Him .

The Omegas she had worked with spoke of him with a respect that bordered on reverence, even when they disagreed with his methods.

The merchants trusted his word. The warriors would follow him into the depths of hell itself.

He was woven into the very fabric of this kingdom like thread into tapestry—remove him, and everything would unravel.

“He’s the only one who can hold the region together,” she whispered. “It will tear itself apart without him. The outer provinces will revolt. The trade agreements will collapse. Tsashokra’s too big.”

Her mind raced through every conversation she’d had with his advisers, every political briefing she’d witnessed.

Without Akoro, the delicate balance he had spent decades building would shatter within months.

The very people he was trying to protect would suffer most from his abdication, the very people he cared so much about that he would sacrifice his own soul to cruelty in order to keep them safe.

The irony twisted like a blade between her ribs.

She had sworn she would never be with him—the man who had tortured her, carved into her flesh, broken her in ways that went deeper than bone.

She had built walls around her heart with his cruelties, and promised herself that no matter what he did, no matter how he changed, she would never forgive what he had made her suffer.

And then she had fallen in love with him anyway in the Isshiran Sands. Despite every scar he had given her, despite every reason to hate him, her heart had chosen him.

And now he was throwing it all away for her.

Akoro strode across the platform toward her, his jaw clenched, his eyes so beautifully intense. But behind him someone shouted.

“No!” The first voice rang out from somewhere deep in the crowd, clear and strong above the chaos. “No abdication!”

“No!” another joined. “We don’t accept.”

“No!” another joined. “No! No! No!”

“We want our king!” another voice joined, then another, building like approaching thunder. “King Akoro!”

But then a different chant arose, one that made Naya’s breath catch and her core flutter with disbelief.

“Princess!” someone shouted, the words carrying across the square with stunning clarity. “We want the princess!”

The chant began spreading through the crowd like wildfire, thousands of voices taking up the call with growing enthusiasm. “Princess! Princess! Princess!”

Prillu’s grip on her arm tightened. “They want you,” she said, wonder bleeding through her diplomatic composure. “I think they’re calling for you to rule beside him.”

Naya stared down at the sea of upturned faces, seeing hope and determination blazing where she’d expected anger and rejection.

These people didn’t want to lose their king—and it seemed they wanted to gain a queen.

They were asking her to stay, to rule, to build something extraordinary with the man who’d just sacrificed everything for her honor.

The crowd’s chanting grew louder, more insistent, until the very stones beneath her feet seemed to vibrate with their demand. “King and Queen! King and Queen!”

Akoro halted, his dark eyes finding hers across the distance with laser intensity that made her purr with recognition.

Even from here, she could see the desperate hope warring with resignation in his expression, could smell the complex blend of devotion and terror that marked his scent as he waited for her choice.

He’d just given her everything—publicly, completely, without reservation. The decision was entirely hers, and the devastating beauty of that gift made tears burn in her eyes with overwhelming emotion.

This was what she’d been searching for her entire life.

Not just a mate who could love her body with devastating skill, but a partner who would stand beside her in the complex dance of leadership.

Someone who understood the crushing responsibility of making decisions that affected thousands of lives, who’d proven capable of putting duty above personal desire when it mattered most.

“Princess,” Prillu urged gently, her voice thick with emotion. “They’re waiting. Tell them what you choose.”

Words died in Naya’s throat. The weight of thousands of gazes pressed against her skin, each expectant face a stone added to the crushing burden on her chest. Her breath came in shallow gasps that were swallowed by the commotion of the square.

“I—I can’t, I?——”

Prillu gently pushed her forward and she stepped to the platform’s edge. Akoro went to her, taking her hands in his. The crowd’s voices rose in a cacophony at the sight, but Akoro only looked at her.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t expect this. You don’t have to respond to them.”

“Why did you do this, Akoro,” she breathed, staring up at him, confused. “Why would you leave them?”

Something shifted in the depths of his dark eyes—vulnerability so profound it seemed to reach inside her chest and squeeze her heart until she couldn’t breathe.

The rawness there, the naked truth he had never let her see before, landed low in her stomach like molten gold.

“I cannot commit to them the way I need to, Naya. If I’m not the man you want, then I’m not the man for them. ”

“You are exactly the king they need, the man they need. Even after that entire confession, they know you, know who you truly are. Just like I do…” Naya’s voice trembled, the vibration of the chanting thudding in her chest. “I… But do they really want me to lead with you?”

Akoro’s gaze swept across the sea of faces pressing against the square’s boundaries, spilling into streets and alleyways like flood water seeking every available space. When he turned back to her, something fierce and wild burned in his expression. “Let’s find out.”

Leading her to the middle of the platform he lifted a hand and waited until the crowd silenced, which took some time. Naya looked out among the sea of people, squeezing into the streets beyond the square.

Once they were silent, Akoro’s voice carried across the square with that same resonant power that had once commanded armies. “Our law states, that in short notice votes?—”

The crowd erupted again, excitement crackling through the air like lightning before a storm.

Akoro’s laughter rang out rich and genuine, a sound that seemed to transform the very atmosphere around them as he raised his hand once more.

“Our law states,” he said again once they were silent, “that in short notice votes, you may speak with your bodies. Those who would like Princess Naya to become queen, and rule alongside her true mate Akoro Sy, who is no longer king, face forward. Those who wish to elect a new king, one that Akoro Sy will help to transition into power, turn your back.”

Not a single person moved. The sudden quiet rang in Naya's ears, more overwhelming than the noise had been.

“Yes,” he said, turning to her. “They want you to rule with me.”

Naya looked out over the crowd, speechless. Of all the results she’d imagined between her and Akoro, this had never been one of them.

Akoro pulled her closer. “Let’s talk,” he murmured.