Page 25 of Storms of His Wrath

A flush crept up Oshrun’s neck, barely visible against her darker skin but unmistakable. She reached for her cup ofkkermoslowly, steam rising between them in the warming morning air.

“We watch for the big things,” Oshrun said finally. “Magical disasters, dangerous experiments—anything that could tear the region apart again.”

“But not the kidnapping of a single Omega.”

“No.” The admission came out clipped, reluctant. “What individuals do with the tools... we don’t track that closely.”

Naya took a sip of her ownkkermo, using the moment to study her. The warm spices coated her tongue, but the comfort of the morning meal felt hollow now. “So you really don’t know how your magic is being used day to day. You just keep it running and hope the king you claim hurts Omegas won’t abuse it.”

Oshrun’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “Do you know how many magical devices exist in this region? Every healing stone, every portal, every tool that keeps crops growing in the desert? We can’t watch them all, and we shouldn’t have to be anyone’s moral compass.”

“But you have the power to be.” Naya kept her tone light as she spread preserve on a piece of flatbread. “You could establish boundaries, conditions for your continued cooperation. You could refuse to maintain tools used for certain purposes.”

“And reveal our existence to every person who uses those tools? Expose ourselves to retaliation or worse?” Oshrun shook her head slightly, her braids clicking. “Our safety depends on remaining hidden, princess. The moment we start dictating terms, we become a target.”

The argument made sense, but Naya could see the discomfort in Oshrun’s posture, the way her fingers drummed silently against the table. This conversation was challenging assumptions the Ilia community had lived by for generations.

“So you protect only yourselves, never mind who else might get hurt?”

“We have suffered enough.” Oshrun’s voice grew harsh enough that several women at their table glanced their way, and the chatter around them quieted for a few long moments. “As a dynamic, we’ve literally been decimated and shunned. Don’t we deserve to preserve what we have here without taking on responsibility for the entire region?”

Naya focused on her food as the attention lingered, a surge of guilt creeping up her chest. Oshrun was right—it would be different if the region accepted them, but they didn’t. As the conversation around them gradually picked up again, Oshrun’s voice softened.

“You make fair points,” Oshrun admitted grudgingly, her voice barely audible above the ambient noise. “Maybe we should have been more aware of activities involving the magical tools. It wouldn’t have been impossible to implement something to monitor that.” She shot Naya a look. “But you must understand,allthe Omegas in the region are here in Ilia now. We didn’t expect to meet or find another Omega, and if we did, we expected them to come through the gateway.”

Naya nodded, her emotions tugging in various directions. The golden preserve that had looked so appetizing earlier now seemed too sweet, cloying on her tongue.

She set down her cup, the weight of Oshrun’s admission settling between them. For all their hidden power and careful planning, the Ilia Omegas had built a system that protected themselves while leaving others vulnerable to the very dangers they’d once faced.

CHAPTER SEVEN

After breakfast, Naya found herself swept into the gentle chaos of children at play. The communal dining area had transformed as small voices rose in excitement, cushions scattered across the stone floor becoming islands in an imaginary sea. Nnimi had claimed Naya’s hand the moment the meal ended, her small fingers warm and sticky from the preserved fruits.

“Princess, you must be the sea monster,” Nnimi declared with the absolute authority only a child could possess. The loose frizz of her half-styled hair created half of a wild halo around her face.

Other children gathered around them, girls ranging from toddlers to those approaching their teens. Their laughter echoed off the canyon walls, pure and unguarded in the way that made Naya’s chest lighten. For a moment, she could almost forget everything—storms, history, secrets weighing on her.

She growled theatrically, chasing giggling children between the scattered cushions. Nnimi shrieked with delight when Naya caught her, spinning her around until they both collapsed in breathless laughter on the soft furs.

“Again! Again!” Nnimi shouted, her golden-brown eyes bright with joy. But before Naya could respond, footsteps sounded across the stone floor.

An Omega Naya hadn’t met before stood at the edge of their play area. She was older and her expression was solemn despite the children’s laughter surrounding them. “Princess,” she said, her Common Tongue accented but clear. “The Assembly requests your presence.”

The older children quieted, sensing the seriousness in the woman’s tone. Nnimi pressed closer to her side, small fingers clutching at Naya’s tunic with sudden uncertainty.

“Of course.” Naya gently extracted herself from small hands, smoothing Nnimi’s wild hair. “I’ll see you later, little one,” she said grinning. Nnimi relaxed and grinned back at her.

The path the Omega led her down wound deeper into the canyon than Naya had ventured before. Stone corridors carved with intricate patterns opened into chambers she glimpsed only briefly; workshops where women bent over delicate crafts, storage areas lined with clay vessels, alcoves glowing with the soft light of embedded crystals. The air grew cooler as they climbed, carrying the mineral scent of deep stone and the faint fragrance of burning herbs.

They entered a chamber that stole Naya’s breath. Circular and vast, it rose toward a natural opening in the canyon roof where afternoon sunlight poured down in golden columns. Intricate decorative carvings were etched into the stone walls more elaborate than any she’d seen. Beautiful spiraling patterns that seemed to move in the shifting light and symbols that tugged at the edges of her understanding.

Twelve women sat in a perfect circle around the chamber’s center, their positions clearly deliberate. Their ages were varied; some were younger than Naya while others were elders. Butthey all carried themselves with the composed dignity of those accustomed to making difficult decisions.

Oshrun occupied a carved stone seat slightly more elaborate than the others, her crystal staff resting against the armrest. Her amber eyes met Naya’s as she entered, welcoming her with a subtle nod.

“Please, sit.” Oshrun gestured to a cushioned stone bench positioned within their circle, at the very center of the chamber. “We are discussing whether to offer assistance regarding the approachingnnin-eellithistorm. Your insight would be valuable.”

Naya settled onto the bench, the stone cool beneath her palms as she gripped its edge. Surrounded by the circle of women, she felt both protected and exposed—as if she sat at the heart of something ancient and powerful. The weight of twelve gazes pressed against her from all sides, measuring, evaluating. Sacred silence filled the space, broken only by the distant sound of water echoing from deeper chambers.

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