Page 94 of Sins of His Wrath

She met his gaze. "What happened to our deal?"

He stilled. "What deal?"

"My heat," she clarified, heat rising to her cheeks. "You said five days of research, and then..."

He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was stiffer, more controlled. "The situation has changed. You can’t be in your heat for days when you’re needed to work on this problem. But I want it as soon as I can."

Even in the darkness, she could feel the frustration simmering beneath his restraint. The disappointment.

His need for her—a need she mirrored more and more

"Is my inner Omega that appealing to you?" she asked softly, "That you need me in a state where I'm not fully myself?"

Akoro moved closer, the bed dipping under his weight as he sat beside her. "You are stunning whether or not you’re in your heat,” he said, each word slow and deliberate. "I told you yesterday, I want you all the time. In your heat, you’re uninhibited and passionate and raw. I love that, but…” He hesitated, and she held her breath. “But there's only one reason I want it again."

Naya's curiosity peaked. "Because I'm so eager for you?"

"No."

"Because I can get pregnant?"

He said nothing for a moment. "No."

“Because I’m not myself, not a princess, just an Omega?”

“No.”

Frustration crept into her voice. "Then what?"

He leaned forward, his scent drifting to her. "Because you kissed me," he said simply.

The memory flashed through her mind—her lips against his, hungry and desperate, their breath mingling, their bodies pressed together.

"You've never kissed me since," he said, voice coarse. "Not once. I can fuck you for hours, make you scream, make you sob with pleasure, and still—no kiss."

The need in his voice sent heat pooling low in her belly.

"I-I didn’t know. I didn't think you'd want that," she whispered.

His voice was harsh, disbelieving. "Not want it? I dream about your mouth, Naya. The taste of your tongue, the softness of your lips, the way you hum when your mouth is on mine." He exhaled, heavy and sombre, and muttered to himself. “Fuck.”

The air between them thickened with tension, with want. Naya swallowed hard, acutely aware of how close he was, how easy it would be to lean forward, to press her lips to his.

But she didn't. Couldn't. Not yet.

Because despite everything—despite their days working side by side, their nights of quiet confessions, the undeniable pull between them—there remained a chasm neither had fully crossed. A divide created by his determination to invade her land, to claim her empire as his own. By the wounds he had inflicted—some that had already scarred, and others that still bled.

And she was, effectively, a queen now.

Every choice she made carried consequences. Even this one.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Naya woke to sunlight streaming through the latticed windows, painting golden patterns across her bed. For once, she had slept deeply, without dreams or restlessness. Stretching languidly, she noticed a servant had already slipped into her room and laid out a garment across the foot of her bed—unlike anything she’d seen since arriving in Akoro’s land.

The gown cascaded in folds of rich sapphire blue, with intricate gold embroidery woven into complex geometric patterns along the neckline and sleeves. When she rose to examine it, the fabric caught the light, shimmering like water beneath a noon sun. It was beautiful—regal, even.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked when the servant entered with her breakfast.

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