Page 22 of Sins of His Wrath

Prillu’s breathing calmed, and she nodded, her eyes flitting up back to Akoro’s. “I believe you, my king, but I must warn you that we are vulnerable. Your people love you dearly, but our allies have grown stronger over the years. They may see this crisis as a weakness they can benefit from. We need to start showing everyone—right now—that your most significant promises will be met.”

Slowly, he straightened, his voice resolute. “And when we invade, we will.”

CHAPTER FIVE

In the moments before she woke, she could feel the Alpha watching her.

It was an awareness that came to her just before she consciousness and just before rousing need dominated her. She wasn’t sure why he was looking at her or why he did it every time she slept, but his attention made her smile. If the sight of her pleased him, she was happy. She was even happier that this Alpha was attentive. He was keen to meet her needs and look after her like any good Alpha should. As her eyes fluttered open, he was already moving her to where he needed her, widening her legs and pulling her into position under him so he could sink deep, even before she was fully awake.

It had been like this for days, and she reveled in it—the feel of him and his dominating control. She got exactly what she needed when she needed it, and it pleased her that she could trust him.

Within moments, his body was slapping against hers, the rough, wet rhythm punctuated by his low grunts. His arms trapped her underneath him where she belonged, and the thick length inside her sunk deep with each punishing thrust. She pressed her face against him, the high she always sought already building, the blissful, raw pleasure stirring.

Panting, she arched her back, offering him her neck, her breasts, anything he wanted, and he took it all, the scruff of his beard scratching along her skin as he dragged his tongue over her shoulder to lave her sensitive nipples. His nose sought every crevice he could reach—while he slammed into her again. But he didn’t let her lips touch his. That was a slow, intimate moment for after.

A high-pitched whine escaped her throat and the Alpha’s hips drove harder, jolting her body in a punishing rhythm and arched even more, her orgasm whipping into a promised frenzy, threatening to take over and seize her whole body.

Naya gasped in her sleep, arching her back again for the Alpha. He liked that. It would please him?—

She woke with a whine in her throat, an urgent vocalization of need and satisfaction and desire blended into one desperate sound, and she gripped the sheets, her toes curling, her knees pressed together.

“Naya.” It was her mama.

“Mama?” Naya panted, trying to orient herself. Why was Mama here? She reached out her arm and found Mama kneeling by her bed. She was in her bedroom. “I-I dreamed…. He was… was….”

“It’s all right, Naya.” A cool cloth patted her face. “You were dreaming… or remembering.”

The sickeningly sweet scent of slick fill her nose. Naya blinked rapidly, forcing herself awake. What was happening? Sitting up, she pulled at her bedsheets. They were drenched.

“Come on,” Mama said gently. She helped Naya to her feet. “Stand there and stay still so I can keep monitoring your wound.”

Naya did as she was told and watched Mama change the sheets, horror bleeding through the dreamlike state that still gripped her. Growing up, Mama had seen everything—from her breasts growing to her first heat—but this had to be the most embarrassing moment. Her mind drifted back to the beautiful, attentive Alpha, disappointment dragging down her mood that he wasn’t really here.

Once the sheets were changed, Mama changed her night tunic, having her lift her arms like she was a child. In her tired, befuddled state, Naya felt like one. Her mind didn’t seem to work. “I don’t know why that happened,” she mumbled. “I don’t understand.”

Mama brushed her hair back with her fingers, pulling it together and tying it before she returned to bed. “Was it a dream or a memory?”

Naya forced her mind back to the dream for a moment. “A memory,” she mumbled. Even as she spoke, her body trembled with need for the Alpha. “But I’m not in my heat,” she said. “It shouldn’t happen. It’s never happened before.”

Mama helped her back into bed. “In your heat, you felt safe, yes?”

Naya relaxed into the bed and nodded.

“And now you don’t,” Mama said. “So you’re yearning for him. Your instincts are driven to seek that feeling again.”

Naya grit her teeth, annoyance scratching through the dreamlike nature of the aftermath of the dream. “I hate it,” she muttered. “I hate him for making me feel like this. I should feel safe in my own bed.”

“It is natural to feel this way after traumatic events, Naya,” Mama murmured, stroking her hand. “It will get better when you’re no longer exhausted, and when we find a way to heal this injury. Go back to sleep.” She patted Naya’s hand. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

When Naya woke again, it was to silence and calm and peace. For a few blissful moments, her mind was clear, and she stared up at the familiar ceiling of her bedroom like she’d done for so many years. But then the memories crashed in. Closing her eyes, she organized all the information from the previous the day, but a sound from the corner of the room made her lift her head abruptly, and a sharp shot of pain sparked up her face.

“Don’t move so quickly,” came a growl from the corner.

Naya’s heart lifted. Her two brothers, Drocan and Azarn, and her sister, Idaya, were squeezed onto two stools in the corner. She smiled at the fierceness on Drocan’s face. While Azarn and Idaya were clearly worried, Drocan looked like he was raring to punch something. When he was younger, he got in these moods often and Papa said to just let him wear himself out, explaining that he himself was like that when he was that age and it came with being a pure Alpha. Apart from the shape of his nose, Drocan was indeed almost identical to Papa, from his dark looks and huge build to the dominance in his attitude. Alpha through and through.

“You planned a war without me,” he muttered, almost sulkily.

Naya had to force herself not to laugh. While she had been interested in history, Drocan, only a year younger than her, had been fascinated with anything to do with battle, war or conflict. He’d memorized all the battle strategies of the most famous conflicts and tried to attend as many planning and strategy sessions as he could. He’d become a Lox warrior almost as quickly as Naya, but although he undertook extensive warrior training, like Lonn, he had his eye on a command role from the start. “We had to move quickly,” Naya explained. “But I want to hear what you think about what we’ve planned.”

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