Page 46 of Sins of His Wrath

That evening, Naya managed to eat a small amount of the food. Prillu did not approach again, so she spent the night tracking the magic, feeling it pulse at a distance, testing the edges of her awareness.

When it was time to sleep, she didn’t burrow into her blankets as she had before. Instead, she simply pulled them around her, leaving her face open to the cool night air. The fabric still carried Akoro’s scent, and when she tucked herself in tightly enough, the warmth of it seeped into her bones, easing her into sleep.

During the night, a soft crackling noise pulled her from slumber. Naya blinked into the darkness, disoriented for a moment. The camp was quiet. The fires had burned low, the occasional ember flickering up disoriented.

Something shifted. A quiet rustling just beyond the dying light of her fire.

Frowning, she squinted into the shadows, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Akoro stood a few feet away, his thick frame partially silhouetted against the night as he brushed hisnnirae’slong head with one hand, feeding it with the other.

Naya stilled, watching him.

Thenniraebarely moved, standing still as Akoro worked, the rhythmic strokes of his hand trailing over its smooth hide. Once his hand was empty, he moved on to brushing the creature’s body, slow, methodical, and practiced.

There was something strange about watching him do something normal, the calm, unhurried way he worked, and seeing him in a moment that wasn’t about power or conquest or cruelty, but simply a task to be done well. It felt strangely normal—like he could be an Alpha at the stables at home, tending to his beast in the quiet of night, his thick, powerful form flexing with each controlled motion simply for the pleasure of doing the work the way an Alpha could.

Naya pulled her eyes away, wrestling with herself. It fucking annoyed her that at every opportunity, the blindly obedient Omega within her—the one Akoro actually wanted—bestowed wholly positive thoughts about him. That weak part of her was always watching, always ready to be impressed by his looks, his strength, his manner—always waiting, hoping to touch him, to smell him, to please him. And she was disappointed that hadn’t come to cuddle her tonight.Ugh.

Naya hadn’t fully thought about what she’d agreed to endure, but she’d have to face it. Especially since it was getting exhausting fighting her own body constantly. Last time, after her heat, she closed in on herself, disengaged from the world—she couldn’t do that this time, not when her actions directly affected the empire. She had to find a way to survive him.

She’d told him she’d be his whore—that she’d whore herself out for her empire, and clearly that was true because she was here in his land again, knowing what he would do with her. So what if… what if she didn’t fight it?

Her eyes couldn’t help but wander back to him. He’d moved onto combing thennirae’sshort, spiky mane with focus, care, and precision. He was an incredibly handsome man. Whether in armor or in regal wear, he exuded dominance, an unshakable force of nature. There couldn’t be another Alpha in the empire—or anywhere—who was as handsome, as perfect, as her own Alpha.

The thought should have disgusted her, made her want to rip herself apart for even thinking it.

Instead, she sighed and fixed herself on her side where she could watch him. Soon, she’d have to decide whether she was going to keep fighting their true mate attraction, but right now, at this exact moment, it was safe to enjoy looking at him. He didn’t know she was watching; he had no idea she was even awake. She couldn’t see his dark eyes locking onto hers, or smell his intoxicating scent, or hear his resonant voice curling through her stomach. She could barely see him at all—just a silhouette in the darkness. So, for now, this was safe.

As he moved on to tending thennirae’sfeet, Naya let herself relax, allowing the rhythmic strokes of his hands to lull her.

She kept watching, her eyes growing heavier. And eventually, she fell back asleep.

The next several days followed the same rhythm. They rode for the entire day, only stopping at night to eat and sleep. The urgency in their travel never waned—if anything, it sharpened, pressing into every movement, every decision.

Each night, Naya woke to find Akoro grooming hisnnirae. It wasn’t particularly strange—this journey was far more grueling than last time, and thenniraerequired constant care. Every rider ensured their mounts were fed and watered immediately upon dismounting, their feet inspected, their coats brushed down. Some needed treatment for cracked skin or sore joints, and when the tending was complete, they were positioned away from the firelight, where the darkness would settle them into rest.

It was strange that Akoro never seemed to sleep. He was the only one who tended to his own mount, and he always did so when the camp had gone quiet. On the third night, it occurred to Naya that Akoro had been awake at night the last time they’d done this journey—that’s how he’d known about her nightmares.

But this time, other than the night he had climbed into her blankets, Akoro hadn’t touched her again. He hadn’t spoken to her. He had all but disappeared in the evenings, only to be nearby with hisnniraelate at night when she was supposed to be asleep. Her inner Omega was heavily dismayed by this. She wailed that this wasn’t normal—that her Alpha should be giving her abundant attention, soothing and praising her. She was half convinced that she’d to have displeased him, but Naya firmly ignored those thoughts. Akoro’s sudden absence or disinterest was disconcerting, but it was better this way.

But then, things got worse.

One night, she had another dream-memory of her heat and woke up abruptly, her back arching, a breathless whine escaping before she could stop it. Her thighs were sticky with slick, her heart raced, and she mindlessly searched for her Alpha. His neck, his chest. Where was his scent? It was a few moments before she even realized what she was doing, and she panted, coming to her senses.

A slow, deliberate movement beyond the campfire caught her eye.

Naya stilled.

Akoro stood at the edge of her magical dome, his body rigid, his gaze locked on hers.

Her stomach dropped.

The look in his eyes was molten, unfiltered, raw with hunger. A dark desire that sent a violent shiver down her spine. It both terrified and thrilled her.

Her heartbeat jumped into a quick thrum. She sat up, drawing her knees to her chest beneath the thin blanket, suddenly aware of how exposed she felt despite being fully clothed. The air grew charged the longer their eyes remained in the weighted gaze, aware of each other.

Akoro moved toward her, the campfire highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the fullness of his lips now hitched in a dangerous snarl. His nostrils flared slightly; he could smell her arousal, she realized with a flush of heat. The thought should have mortified her, but it sent another rush of heat spiraling through her body—shame, desire and delight tangled so tightly she couldn’t separate them.

Akoro stepped inside the dome.

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