Page 87 of Sins of His Wrath

The admission changed something fundamental in the atmosphere surrounding them. For several long minutes, neither spoke, the only sounds the soft padding of thennirae'sfeet on sand and the distant cry of a desert bird.

Akoro remained utterly silent for the remainder of their journey, his body a rigid presence behind hers. His breaths came measured and deep, as though carefully controlled. Every slight movement—the adjustment of his hand on the reins, the occasional shift of his weight—sent invisible ripples of awareness through Naya's body.

She found herself suspended in uncertainty, torn between wanting to break the heavy silence and fearing what truths might emerge if she did. The ruins of Onn Kkulma gradually materialized on the horizon, wavering in the afternoon heat.

As thenniraecarried them closer to the city, Naya couldn't shake the sensation that something significant had altered between them today—not just in what they'd revealed about their pasts, but in the unspoken current that had always flowed beneath their interactions. Something that transcended captivity, duty, and even the primal pull between Alpha and Omega.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

As Akoro headed back to his room from escorting Naya to hers, a palace guard approached, his face drawn tight with urgency.

"My king, you're needed. Immediately."

Akoro straightened, tension coiling through his muscles. "What's happened?"

"Prillu has called the council. She says it can't wait."

Nodding, Akoro speed up the steps, navigating to the strategy room.

When he arrived, the rest of the council was already there. Ranin stood by the large table, examining a map, his fingers tracing patterns with methodical precision. Nanaek and Tshel were talking near the window, their voices too low to hear, but their posture spoke volumes—shoulders tense, heads bent close together. Nrommo paced in tight circles, his face carved with tension, boots wearing a path in the stone floor.

And at the center stood Prillu.

She looked worse than when he'd seen her last—dark circles bruised beneath her eyes, her skin ashen despite its rich brown tone, her posture rigid with barely contained dread. She looked up as they entered. "Good, you're here." Her voice was taut, stretched thin like wire about to snap.

Akoro moved to the head of the table. The room stilled, turning to him. "What's happened?"

Prillu's hands trembled slightly as she gestured to the map. She paused, drawing a deep breath as if steadying herself, and in that moment, Akoro felt the first real flicker of alarm. Prillu—always composed, always steady—was afraid.

"The calculations have changed." She took another steadying breath. "Thennin-eellithistorm... it's coming sooner."

A heavy silence descended on the room, thick enough to choke on. Akoro's jaw tightened. "How much sooner?"

"A month." The words were choked out. "Not six months. One."

The implications swept through the room. Nrommo cursed violently, slamming his fist against the wall. The sound echoed, sharp and sudden.

Ranin froze over the map, his fingers stilling mid-motion. Tshel and Nanaek exchanged glances. Oppo murmured under his breath in disbelief.

"How is that possible?" Akoro demanded. "Your projections?—"

"Were based on patterns we've tracked for decades." Prillu's voice cracked slightly. She moved to the map, pointing to marks that charted the storm's expected path. "But something's changed. The magic is... different now. More volatile." Her eyes flicked to him, then away. "It's like nothing we've seen before."

Tshel stepped forward, her usual composure fractured. "The princess's escape may have destabilized things more than we realized." She hesitated, careful with her words. "When she pulled that magic into the city... it may have altered something."

“Thennin-eellthithat chased us in the desert was unusual too,” Akoro said. “I thought it was because… I was with her. But it might be a sign of a something else.”

Silence settled as they all absorbed this. Akoro felt the weight of it pressing down on his shoulders, a familiar burden growing heavier.

"And what about our plans?" Nrommo said. His voice carried the harsh edge of a man seeing years of work crumbling before him. "We were supposed to have invaded the green land by now. Secured it for our people."

"We still can," Nanaek said, but there was uncertainty in her voice. "We have troops ready?—"

"No." Oppo's voice was quiet but carried across the room with surprising weight. The simple word hung in the air.

"The city needs time to rebuild," he said. "The people need time to mourn." His eyes met Akoro's, unflinching. "And a storm this size... we can't leave our people to face it without leadership."

The truth of his words settled heavily in Akoro's chest. For generations, the plan had been clear: if and when the great storm came, they would have already secured the fertile lands across the Sands. Their people would be safe. Now that certainty was crumbling, replaced by a gnawing dread.

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