Page 43 of Sins of His Wrath

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 thenniraefor 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 hisnnirae. 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 hisnnirae, 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 hisnnirae, 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 hisnniraein one fluid motion and surged forward, the camp following.

Like Prillu had warned, they didn't stop other than to rest thenniraeuntil 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, thennin-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?"

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