Page 9 of Sins of His Wrath

“She only irritates you,” Naya said gently. “And you irritate her, too. We need useful information from her with as little resistance as possible. That counts out you, Uncle Torin, and even Mama. If you want to question her after me, you can. But let me get the information we need first.”

Papa exhaled slowly, his eyes searching her face as if to try to determine whether she was up to it, but Naya kept her gaze firm. They couldn’t afford for Mother Freya to refuse to help them, and she certainly would if Papa demanded it. Both Uncle Torin and Mama nodded at Papa in agreement with Naya.

“All right,” he said finally. “But first, we gather the generals.”

The Great Hall felt different.

Naya couldn’t help but think of Akoro’s battle room and she didn’t like how the comparison felt. By all measures, her father’s display was still raw and powerful, as though the weapons on display had just been pulled out of someone, but Akoro’s intricately patterned weapons and armor, surrounded by gold and woven textures made his battle room feel more decorated and significant—as though he’d faced decades of wars that had been hard won.

She shook the feeling off and kept her gaze on the faces of the generals in front of her as her father spoke. She took center stage on the platform, her parents either side of her, and in the corners, Uncle Torin on one side and the twins on the other.

The generals of the Lox Empire filled less than half of the hall, but they each commanded a unit. These were men who would—and had—defend the empire with their lives. Naya had told Akoro that the Lox army was twenty-five thousand strong, which was partially true. The active and visible foot soldiers did amount to that number, but in reality there were many factions and units that no one saw or associated directly with the Lox army; some worked in secret, some were spies in the other lands, some were training in new fields, like their archers, and others specialized in certain duties and types of combat. Once armies from the other lands were included, she suspected the number that Akoro would have to defeat to win the empire would be much nearer to the size of his own army. Naya pushed her anger down, remembering Akoro’s insults of the Lox. He was delusional to think it would be easy to defeat the full force of the Lox and her allies—the only real advantage he’d had was the element of surprise, and now that was gone.

“They come for our beautiful land, our people, our wealth,” Papa’s voice thundered, each syllable striking like a war drum. “They come for our rich, fertile soil, for the greenery they do not possess, for the abundance they could never cultivate on their own.

“They admit it—admit that we, the Lox Empire, are superior to all other lands.” His gaze swept across the generals, his tone sharpening. “Yet they believe we are soft. Weak. That we grow fat on our riches and slumber in our comfort. They think we are untested in battle, that our strength is a myth, that we will shatter like glass under the weight of war.”

A low growl of dissent rumbled through the assembled generals. No Lox Alpha took that kind of insult lightly, least of all when it came from foreign mouths. Their fury burned, seething, igniting a fire that spread from one hardened face to the next, churned the smoldering anger in the pit of Naya’s stomach.

“They have been watching us.” Papa’s voice pitched deeper, menacing and strong. “They have walked among our people, breathed our air, studied our ways. And when they struck, they did not come for our warriors or our gold. No. They came for our princess.”

A fresh wave of outrage rolled through the ranks, fierce and unrelenting. All eyes slid to Naya, and she met each of them, hoping they could see her own anger and determination. Most prominent of all, they could see the open wound that ran along her face. Papa had told her to keep the wound unbandaged for the gathering, to show the generals the type of enemy they were dealing with. Naya worried it made her look weak, but Papa insisted nothing could, not when she had escaped and come back to warn them. The sight of her wound would simply motivate the generals—make the threat of the Sy Dynasty real in their minds.

“They sought to break us by taking her. They thought they could use her against us.” Papa let that truth settle like a challenge. Then his voice rang out, “But they did not know her. With her bravery, her intelligence, and her skill, she escaped their grasp—and on her way out, she crippled them.” He let those words land, heavy with pride and satisfaction. “Now they will come again. And this time, they will come for all of us.”

As her gaze flitted across the hard faces, she locked onto familiar deep brown eyes. Lonn. Surprise hit her for a moment. Blood spurted from her face, and then poured down her chin in a steady, thick stream onto her chest. The generals bristled even more at the sight, some of them growling or muttering. Uncle Torin reached forward and handed her a clean bandage as she checked the magic at her face. It had weakened dramatically.

Naya reinforced it the best she could and mopped up the blood, but her eyes were drawn back to Lonn. He was still looking at her. What was he doing here? How could he be a general already? She’d only been gone for… how long had it been? She’d forgotten to ask.

Lonn stood with his feet wide and chest out. Maybe he’d been promoted while she was away. He certainly looked more grown up in his general attire. He had grown his hair a little, and a growing beard covered his jaw. Fury blazed in his eyes, and his fists clenched repeatedly, but he dragged his attention away from her and back to Papa, who was still speaking. Naya examined him for a moment. She couldn’t deny he was a very handsome Alpha, but once again, Akoro forced his way into her mind. As fierce as Lonn was, he still seemed safe and mellow compared to the animalistic danger that constantly surrounded Akoro. Even the memory of the delighted fury in Akoro’s dark eyes stirred something deep in her stomach. She couldn’t imagine Lonn kissing her as hungrily, groaning as viciously at the taste of her, jolting her so roughly as he sunk deep into her, or even looking at her in the dark, claiming way Akoro had.

Naya quickly dragged herself from the memories, ashamed her mind had even gone there. She had blocked her Omega signals the moment she left the healing room. There was no excuse for thinking of Akoro in that way.

“All of you are battle-worn,” Papa was saying now. “All of you have fought and bled for the Lox. But this war will not be like any other.”

The tension in the air thickened, charged with unspoken readiness.

“This enemy,” he said, “comes from the unknown lands. He is a heathen, wielding perverse magic and marching with a large army. He has never faced warriors like you. He does not know our lands as you do. He does not understand our empire as we do. And above all—” his voice swelled, resonant, commanding, “—he does not possess the Lox warrior spirit.”

The generals shouted their agreement, fists clenching, shoulders squaring, the fire in their eyes flaring to life.

Papa spoke on with determination and fortitude, his voice hard and deep. “We are led by Princess Naraya, first daughter of your Emperor and Empress, heir to the Lox Empire, Guardian of Omegas, Keeper of Peace—our Omega Princess who returned to us not only unbroken but armed with knowledge. Because of her, we know our enemy. Because of her, we are prepared. And because of her, we will mount the most victorious defense in our history!”

A roar erupted, the sound of warriors ready for war, ready for blood, ready for victory. Papa held their energy in the palm of his hand. He met their gazes, each one of them, his expression unyielding, his voice unshaken.

“We are the greatest army in any land—known or unknown. Every battle, every triumph, every victory we have won has led to this moment.” He raised his fist, and the sea of warriors before him surged with it.

“We are the Lox!” His voice was a battle cry unto itself. “And we. Will. Win.”

The answering roar shook the ground beneath their feet, the sound of an empire prepared to defend its throne.

“All hail the Lox!”

The generals’ ferocious chant burst up to the roof of the Great Hall and sent goosebumps up Naya’s arms. Relief, excitement, and unyielding determination surged through her, driving out the last lingering thoughts of Akoro.

He was about to feel the full might of the Lox. And she would be there to make sure he drowned in it.

CHAPTER THREE

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