Page 26 of Storms of His Wrath

“I welcome any questions you have,” she said, keeping her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.

A woman to Oshrun’s left leaned forward. Her hair was completely silver and her frayed braids swung forward with her. Deep lines around her eyes worn there by years spent squinting against desert sun.

“Nnin-eellithistorms are frequent in our land,” she said, speaking with the ease of someone used to being heard. “What makes this one different?”

Naya turned toward the speaker, straightening as she drew on everything Akoro’s council had told her during those tense meetings in the palace. “This storm will follow a pathway that takes it directly through Onn Kkulma. Usually they curve away from populated areas, but this one won’t.”

“How do you know this?” The question came sharp and immediate from her right side—a middle-aged woman with intricate tattoos marking her temples.

“King Sy’s council told me.”

No one spoke. Naya found herself turning slowly, taking in the faces around her. Two of the Omegas exchanged glances across the circle. Another voice broke the stillness from directly behind her. Naya swiveled to face the speaker, a woman perhaps her own age with curious dark eyes. “How did you intend to stop the storm?”

“I came to find the Solution—” Naya began, but quiet chuckles interrupted her words. She looked toward the sound—three of the younger Omegas to her left shared amused looks, their smiles holding bitter edges.

“The Solution is a myth,” one of them said, her tone gentle but firm, “created by people who couldn’t let go of the old life. They believe there is some perfect answer that will restore what was lost.”

“Quiet.” The sharp command came from the woman who’d asked the question, cracking like a whip. Her dark eyes sparked with irritation. “Let her answer.”

Naya pushed forward. “I intended to find the Solution to create a permanent way for Onn Kkulma and all residents of the region to be safe. I could only accomplish this through experimentation of my way of using magic, the Ancient Tongue, along with anything from your culture that would give me advantage.” She paused, thinking for a moment. “The biggest advantage I saw was the magical tools. If you have tools that repel thennin-eellithi, there must be a way to stop the storm. I also spent time learning about the history of magic in your lands; it seemed like a good place to start.”

The woman nodded slowly, satisfaction flickering across her features. Naya found herself relaxing slightly, though sheremained alert to the voices that might come from any direction around the circle.

“How far did you progress in studying the magical tools?” Oshrun’s question carried clearly through the chamber.

Naya sighed, remembering her frustrations. “King Sy’s council was very protective about the magical tools because of military concerns. I never got substantial information or the chance to examine one until the day I touched the stone that transported me here.”

Oshrun leaned forward in her carved seat, the crystal atop her staff catching the golden light streaming from above. Several other women shifted too, as though their attention had sharpened.

“Were you working with King Sy’s council to stop the storm?” Oshrun’s voice carried new intensity.

“Yes.”

Shock flickered through the circle and everything went still.

A woman directly across from Naya shifted forward, her movements graceful despite the carved stone seat. Her skin was a rich, deep brown, and when she spoke, her voice held a warm, melodic quality that settled into Naya’s bones; the sound had an undertone that made tension ease from shoulders she hadn’t realized were rigid.

“Princess,” she said, “I’m puzzled by something you’ve shared.” Her dark eyes held genuine curiosity rather than challenge. “How does one find themselves in the position of speaking with King Sy’s most trusted council? These are the people who craft policy for all of Tsashokra, who guide the fate of millions. It’s... unusual for outsiders to gain such access.”

Naya’s fingers tightened on the stone bench beneath her.

“They asked for my help.”

The words fell into stunned silence. Several of the Omegas exchanged confused glances, while others leaned forward asif they hadn’t heard correctly. The silver-haired elder who’d spoken first raised her eyebrows so high they nearly disappeared into her hairline. “They... asked? The Sy Dynasty council requested assistance from a kidnapped prisoner?”

Heat crept up Naya’s neck at the way it sounded when spoken aloud. “Yes.”

“Princess,” Oshrun said. “I think you need to explain this fully from the very beginning. The way you told me when you first arrived here, but with more detail about these interactions with the council.”

Naya drew a deep breath, the cool air of the chamber filling her lungs as she gathered her thoughts. Around her, twelve pairs of eyes watched with varying degrees of skepticism, curiosity, and concern. The golden column of sunlight seemed to press down on her shoulders as she began.

She told them about her kidnap and imprisonment, her escape and negotiation to come back, explaining the council’s continued presence in the events. She left out everything about her and Akoro’s true connection and personal moments between them, including her heat. “The approachingnnin-eellithistorm became a priority when they realized it would arrive sooner than anticipated,” she said finally. “They were desperate enough to listen to ideas from someone who used magic differently than they understood.”

A woman with startling blue eyes and intricate silver jewelry adorning her golden braids shot to her feet, fury radiating from every line of her body. Her voice snapped through the sacred space, sharp and sudden. “So the king would have transported everyone to a new land and abandoned all the history here? All the sacred sites, all the generations buried in Tsashokra soil—he would have simply left it all behind?”

Naya met her blazing gaze. “Yes. That is what he promised his people,” she said simply. “He sees it as a way to instantly return to the former glory of your culture.”

Another Omega nodded slowly, her loose curly auburn hair catching the light as it moved around her shoulders, different from the tight braids most wore. “I remember him speaking about it,” she said, her expression thoughtful. “Years ago, when he was visiting the outer districts. He spoke of finding new lands, places where thessukkuriancould rebuild without the constant threat of wild magic.”

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