Page 84 of Sins of His Wrath

"I was one of the younger children in the Sy family after the boundaries failed," he continued. "I grew up in a world that was collapsing around me and saw firsthand the devastation it caused. While my family huddled in the palace, trying to relive their past glory, I spent time in villages like this, helping the people rebuild their lives. Elders are precious to our culture, and it’s in places like this where you hear them talking, reminiscing. Where you can absorb what our culture truly was—not just the dynasties but the people who made it great. The artists, engineers, musicians, architects , designers, writers, laborers, teachers, farmers, crafters. His voice petered out.

Naya tried to imagine him younger, less hardened, moving among these ruins with purpose rather than bitterness. "That doesn't sound like what you told me yesterday—about how ruthless the Sy were, how they hoarded their advantages."

"My family was ruthless," Akoro said, his voice low. "When the Sy lost everything after the second destruction, instead of building back what they had with the people, they abused them. They lied and betrayed their trust. They tried to preserve their noble status at any cost, even though people were dying around them."

He kicked at a piece of broken pottery, sending it skittering across the stone. "They were in denial, refusing to accept that they must adapt to survive. Instead, they tried to strike a deal with a foreign power from the North. In exchange for safety and noble privileges, they planned to sell away what remained of Tsashokra—its land, its resources, even its survivors."

Naya's brow furrowed. "And you disagreed with this plan?"

A sound escaped him—not quite a snort, not quite a sigh, but something bitter and wounded. "Fiercely.” His brow furrowed, his whole face a picture of rage. “My parents couldn't understand why I cared about the common people at all. To them, I was a disappointment, too concerned with those they considered beneath us."

They walked in silence for a moment, the only sound the crunch of debris beneath their feet.

"Come," Akoro said suddenly. "There's something else I want to show you."

They returned to thennirae, and soon they were riding again, this time toward a reddish smudge on the horizon. As they drew closer, the landscape transformed dramatically. The golden sand gave way to rust-colored earth that glowed under the sun's rays. Tall, jagged formations of red rock rose from the ground like the spines of some ancient beast.

"The Ushro Sands," Akoro said close to her ear, his words warm against her skin.

Naya couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. The crimson dunes seemed to shimmer, the sand itself appearing almost metallic as it caught the light. In the distance, she could see what looked like the collapsed remains of mining equipment—evidence that this place had once been industriously worked.

"It's—" She stopped, the word leaving her lips.

Akoro snorted, and could feel his smile in his words. "It is not as beautiful as you, but yes, it is a sight to see. These sands are rich in iron and rare minerals. Once, they were the source of our wealth and power."

Naya lowered her head and smiled, her inner Omega purring with glee. This handsome, dominant Alpha who smelled better than anything she knew, thought she was beautiful.

Thenniraecame to a halt at the edge of the red sands. Akoro dismounted and lifted Naya down, steady and sure. She couldn’t look him in the eye, her heart quickening despite herself.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked, trying to focus.

"Because this is where I truly understood the damage my family had done," he said, kneeling to scoop up a handful of the red sand, letting it sift through his fingers. "And where I decided to change it."

Naya watched as the grains caught the light, like droplets of blood falling back to the earth. "What happened?"

"The conflict with my family grew worse," Akoro said, rising to his full height. "When I learned of their plan to sell our land to foreigners, I challenged them openly. Many were on my side. I demanded they step down and let me lead Tsashokra toward rebuilding through strength and conquest."

His swallowed, dropping his hand and staring out over the sand. "They refused, of course. I was only twelve. They saw me as too young, and a barbarian because I learned how to fight. I was traitor to my own name. The conflict split the remaining survivors into two halves." He was silent for a moment and then barked out a laugh. “I was too young to lead but not too young to be sold. That’s what they tried to do.”

"And Oppo?" Naya asked, recalling the healer's gentler demeanor. "What did he do?"

Akoro's face remained stoic, but his eyes revealed the depth of an wound. "Nothing. He did nothing. He was caught between loyalty to our parents and the reality of our situation and couldn't decide. He left me to take control, even though he is the older sibling."

The bitterness in his voice was palpable, a wound that had never fully healed. Naya stared at him, hardly believing he carried all this pain and hurt with him.

"What happened next?" she asked, her voice quiet.

Akoro's eyes met hers, dark and intense. "What do you think happened,tmot zia?” He gestured to the red sands. “The Battle of Sy took place. Too many people wanted their cities and their culture back than wanted to keep following the Sy Dynasty. It was a bloody battle, but I made sure I killed them. I ensured that the future of Tsashokra belonged to a Sy who would keep their promise to their people, and correct the old mistakes."

The blunt admission stunned her into silence. She had known he was capable of violence, had experienced his ruthlessness firsthand. But this—the revelation that he had killed his own kin—sent a chill through her.

"All of them?" she whispered.

"All who stood against me," he replied, his voice cold. "Oppo survived, but his indecisiveness marked him. He became a shadow of what he could have been. He has a lot of guilt, and I love him, but he doesn’t carry the Sy name, or the Sy mistakes, the way I do."

Naya swallowed hard, aligning this dark truth with the man who stood before her—the same man who had held her through the night, who had comforted her through her heat.

"And so now you rule," she said lightly.

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