Page 56 of Sins of His Wrath

They walked for a while, but with so many turns, Naya couldn't tell where they were or where they were going. Suddenly, a breeze whipped around her hood and heat slammed down onto her skin, even as the cold tunic she wore was making her shiver. Under her feet, the smoothness of the palace floor changed to a rougher surface.

The guards helped her into a cart, and from its bumpy movement, she could feel it had wheels. It moved slowly, crunching and clattering. The hubbub of the city slowly built until it sounded like a huge crowd.

The cart slowed, and the guards helped her out, leading her up some steps. She had to be on some kind of platform because the crowd sounded like it was in front of her, but the hood was so tight, she couldn't even look down to see what she was standing on. Dread crept up the back of her neck, on the small hair on edge. This could be bad.

Someone moved in front of her. “The zmolareminds you not to speak.” It was Prillu. “If you are successful, you will get the first day of your fourteen tomorrow.” She slipped away.

Naya drew in a slow breath, relief flooding her. The heat baring down on her had to make it either just before or just after theirlur-ennen. At least she didn’t have another whole day in the cell.

Pressing her lips together, she closed her eyes, determined to say nothing. If she didn’t speak, then it would be on Akoro to prove he would stick to his word and give her a day. If he didn’t, then she would have to decide whether she attempted an escape. It’d been at least two weeks since she left the empire. Papa would have something in place to protect them by now.

Within moments, the crowd’s low din turned to raucous noise, yells and shouts, punctuating cheers.

And then Akoro started speaking, his voice rising to meet the crowd, and despite herself, she took comfort in the deep grit and growl in his foreign words.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Thirty years ago, I stood before you as I do now, burning with a single purpose: to lead you to safety, to build a future where our children would not know the hunger of war, where we would live long enough to grow into elders who would pass in peace, and where no man or woman would live in constant fear. I swore upon the might of my dynasty, upon the blood that runs through my veins, that I would protect this city—our home. I swore we would not merely survive and thrive, but rise as an undefeatable power.

“For decades, I have kept that vow. Through famine and attacks, through battles fought in the dust and betrayals whispered in the dark, I have held this city back from ruin. I have stood in the fire so you would not burn. I have bled so you would not fall. I have fought so you could live.

“But several weeks ago—” His voice dropped, the weight of his words pressing upon the crowd like the first rumble of a coming storm. “—my promise was broken.”

Akoro’s gaze swept over his people; his warriors, the mothers clutching their children, elders leaning on their staffs. They had all come. The crowd stretched beyond sight, no doubt reaching to the farthestnnin-boulders at the edge of Onn Kkulma city itself.

“A roguennin-eellithibreached our barriers, defied our defenses, and in a single night, tore a wound through our capital that may never fully heal. We lost our homes. We lost fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. We lost friends and warriors. We lost a piece of ourselves.” His voice, rough and steady, surged through the crowd. “But I ask you this—do we break? Do we cower? Do we bow our heads and allow devastation to swallow us?”

An immediate roar of voices answered, a rising tide of anger, of pain, of defiance.

“That’s right—no!” Akoro’s voice rang out, unwavering as tempered steel. “We areSsukku?rian! We suffer, but we still stand. And we will rise again.”

He let the roar swell, a storm of voices thundering across the square, shaking the air, shaking the ground, shaking the very bones of the city itself. Let them feel their power. Let them remember who they were. Then, as the fervor reached its peak, he lifted a hand, and silence fell like a blade.

“But make no mistake—our suffering was no accident,” he said finally. “The blood spilled has a cause.” He lifted a hand, pointing to Naya standing in the middle of the stage. “And she stands before you now.”

The shuffling and low muttering among the crowd fell away. Everyone stood still and silent, their eyes on his tiny princess, who stood alone in the center of the stage.

She looked impossibly small against the vastness of the platform, the hood over her head already a morbid sight as the crowd examined what they could of her. On the far side of the stage, the sevensoges, nobles who led seven districts in the region,at in a row along the edge, staring at her.

Akoro forced himself not to let his gaze linger. He couldn’t afford hesitation now. His voice rang out, cutting through the silence, sharp and precise. “This girl is the culprit. She is an Omega from the forests.”

A murmur of alarm rippled through the gathered mass. Whispers and sharp glances exchanged in obvious surprise.

“We know there are still many bandits out there who would kill, steal, and burn for the chance to claim an Omega. This one escaped them.” He spoke firmly, measured and clear. “She fled. She ran through the Sands and found herself at our gates. And came seeking sanctuary. But in doing so, she led thennin-eellithistraight to us.”

Akoro let his words drift among the crowd for a moment before continuing. “She is the one to blame,” he said. “But it was not her intention. I present her before you and our allies, so you may see her for yourselves. She is young. She is frightened. And she wishes to return to the forests she came from. I am inclined to follow our laws on this matter and move forward with healing and repairing our city.”

The crowd was quiet, muttering and shifting.

One of the soges, Soge Mansa, rose from his chair and strolled to the center of the stage.

Akoro stood in front of the makeshift throne that had been made for the platform and watched him. What the fuck was he doing?

The man stopped a few feet from Naya, scrutinizing her, and Akoro reined in the urge to storm over and break the man’s neck.

“Why does a hood cover her head?” Soge Mansa asked.

“Omegas are not part of our society,” Akoro answered. “Her identity is of no use to us.”

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