Page 91 of Sins of His Wrath

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Silence stretched between them, taut with everything that had passed between them and everything still unresolved.

She could demand that he ask for her help. She could force him to humble himself after everything he had done to her—make him admit that he needed her, that his survival depended on her choices now.

But the words died in her throat.

Because as she studied him—this proud, unyielding Alpha who had killed his own family to save his people, who had endured the collapse of his civilization and rebuilt from nothing, who now stood on the precipice of losing it all again—she realized something.

He would never ask.

Not because of arrogance. Not because of pride.

But because he did not know how. Anything Akoro had, he had taken and built into something better.

The silence stretched, a slow pull of tension between them.

Then, finally, Akoro spoke. "You dismissed my council."

Naya lifted her chin. "I did."

A flicker of something passed through his dark eyes. Then, to her utter surprise, his lips curved, just slightly. "Interesting."

His gaze held hers, fathomless and intense. "You can have your full two weeks," he said, his deep voice resonating through the chamber.

Naya shook her head slowly. "No. No time limit."

She stepped closer, closing the space between them inch by inch, her pulse steady even as awareness prickled along her skin. "We work together to solve this problem—ruler supporting ruler. And we stop only when the threat is gone."

Something flickered across his face—surprise, perhaps. Or something deeper, something unguarded. For a moment, she thought he might refuse, might let pride and fury drive him to another ultimatum.

"I never wanted you working on the Solution," he said, each word deliberate and low, like thunder before a storm breaks.

Naya regarded him warily. The surrounding air seemed to contract with the energy of the pull between them—that invisible, inexorable force that drew her to him despite everything. "It doesn’t surprise me you wanted to impede me."

"No." Something shifted in his expression—vulnerability, perhaps, though it vanished as quickly as it appeared. His shoulders cast a vast shadow across the table as he leaned forward. "I don’t believe the Solution exists. Many have tried before and failed. Many have died trying." His voice dropped lower, a graveled whisper. "You are capable. There is no doubt about it. But magic here is not the gentle force your people wield. It tears flesh from bone. It consumes. It destroys. I did not want risking your life."

The raw intensity of his words stirred something primal within her. Not just her Omega recognizing her Alpha's concern, but something deeper—the realization that beneath his ruthlessness lay fear. Fear for her. “And now?” Naya asked, somewhat breathlessly. “Now that this storm is coming? You want me to stop?”

He moved then, with that predatory grace that seemed impossible for a man his size. Three steps and he was before her, one hand planted on the table beside her, the other against the wall. He didn't touch her, but his presence surrounded her—his heat and that scent that still haunted her dreams.

The space between them was alive, shifting into an uncharted.

“You can focus on the Solution, Naya,” he said, his dark gaze locked onto hers. “But I will be focused on you. Your safety. You’re still mine.”

The next four days plunged Naya and Akoro's council into relentless research, a rhythm emerging. They spent from dawn until dusk in the Archive, surrounded by ancient scrolls, weathered tablets, and dusty tomes containing accounts of previous storms and failed Solution attempts. something fundamental had shifted. The once-suspicious glances from the council members had transformed into expressions of cautious hope and each member contributed their expertise. Naya could see why Akoro chose them. They were brutally honest, yet respectful.

Akoro himself worked alongside Naya with quiet intensity, his commanding presence revealing unexpected depths of knowledge about his land's history and magic. On the third day, Prillu discovered mention of a mysterious "signet" in a tattered scroll from a previous Solution attempt—described only as "crucial to controlling the flow." No one knew what it meant, but Prillu and Tshel were tasked with investigating further.

Naya’s nights fell into their own pattern. Naya would return to her chambers, but sleep refused to come until she sensed Akoro's presence watching over her from the shadows of her room. Her body had developed a dependency on him, as though his Alpha presence had become essential to her rest. It still frustrated her how completely her instincts had surrendered to him, even as part of her welcomed the security his vigilance provided. Despite herself, she found her awareness of him heightening with each passing night, her inner Omega increasingly attuned to his every movement, his every breath in the darkness.

On the fourth night, Akoro was later than usual. Naya lay awake, staring at the patterned ceiling, frustration keeping her tense and unable to relax. Where was he? She tossed and turned, annoyed with herself for noticing his absence so acutely.

When he finally arrived, slipping into her chambers like a shadow, she feigned sleep, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of knowing she'd waited for him.

"You're not fooling anyone, Naya," he rumbled, amusement threaded through his tone in the darkness.

She kept her eyes stubbornly closed, her breathing deliberately even.

The wooden chair beside her bed creaked as he settled into it. "You may miss me," he murmured. “You can wait for me too.”

---