Page 30 of Storms of His Wrath

“We will,” he said, voice dropping to a rumble that vibrated through her bones. The hand on her thigh moved, tearing at her underwear before his fingertips trailed fire across her heated skin.

Naya shivered at the contact, her back arching slightly as pleasure fluttered through her. Her body had already begun responding to his proximity, to the safety of his arms despite everything that lay unresolved between them.

“No,” she whispered, half-surrender, half-plea. She grabbed his arm to stop him. “I didn’t come for this.”

“You did,tmot zia,” he growled against her ear, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her throat. “You came to your Alpha to be taken care of.”

Naya dug her fingers into his arm. “I came to talk. To get answers.”

“You will get your answers, but this comes first. You need your Alpha, and I need the smell and taste of you.” His voice became a rough growl. “Now.”

Desire flared through her veins, the suspense making her inner Omega whimper. The possessive hunger in his tone made every nerve ending spark to life, her body held captive on theassurance of pleasure that made her thighs clench. Her hands on his arms softened and then fell away.

His eyes flashed with savage satisfaction. “You’re mine,tmot zia. Every breath, every heartbeat, every drop of slick your perfect body makes for me.”

His fingers found her folds slick and hot, and he stroked through the abundance of wetness that had gathered with expert precision. Naya gasped at his touch, her head falling back, sensation overwhelmed conscious thought. He circled and stroked and slid, eyes trained her to face to drink in every flutter of her eyelashes, every soft sound that escaped her lips.

“Look at you,” he murmured, thumb circling her most sensitive spot with just enough pressure to make her writhe in his lap. “So perfect.” He slid his finger into her, rubbing the aching muscles of her entrance. “This is mine, perfectly for me,tmot zia.”

Naya’s world narrowed to his touch, the way he plunged his thick finger in while keeping pressure on her most sensitive bundle. Pressure built inside her, coiling tighter with each deliberate slide. When he slid another finger in, stretching her wider, she gasped and arched her back, spreading her knees as far as they could go.

A gruff sound came from her Alpha’s throat. She wasn’t sure if it was a growl or a chuckle, but the squelch of his fingers in her filled the tent. “Do you smell that, Naya?” His voice was hoarse. “Beautiful, delicious cunt. All over my fingers, filling our tent.”

Naya moaned, arching, gripping onto him as he worked faster, twisting, wriggling, driving his fingers in at a punishing pace. With her head tilted back, she didn’t see when he leaned down, only felt when his tongue replaced his thumb, brushing across her clit with strong, rhythmic laps that made her moan and whimper.

Her Alpha hummed with satisfaction, the deep rumble pushing her already overwhelmed body closer to the edge. Her sensitive nipples rubbed against the fabric of her tunic, and the scent of him bloomed to a deep, possessive satisfaction, sending her over the edge.

Her orgasm tore through her body with devastating force. She cried out, her spine shuddering, waves of pleasure crashing over her and leaving her trembling, clenching, breathless. Through the haze of sensation, she heard his satisfied rumble against her skin, felt the way his scent spiked with pride. His mouth never left her, tongue working her through each shuddering wave until her body stilled. He gathered her boneless form to his chest, dark eyes holding an expression she’d never seen before.

Naya’s breathing calmed as she stared up at him. No thought could penetrate the haze of contentment she drifted in. All she needed was the sight of him to feel complete. She hummed, content. Her inner Omega satisfied and happy with her Alpha cradling her.

But eventually, reality crept back in, bringing with it all the questions and accusations that had wedged between them in their last conversation. The one where he never explained why he lied. Akoro sensed the shift in her mood and his body went taut beneath hers, every muscle coiling with tension. But he said nothing and waited for her to speak.

“Tell me the truth about the Omegas,” she said quietly, meeting his burning gaze without flinching. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His eyes searched her face, dark and unreadable, and the silence stretched for a long moment. His hands found her skin again, this time one thumb stroking along her wrist where her pulse beat steadily, the other tracing possessive circles on herhip. The touches were deliberate, claiming, as though he needed to mark his territory.

When he finally spoke, his voice was rougher than usual.

“There were whispers,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “When I was growing up in the outer villages, there were always conversations that stopped when children walked by. Comments that didn’t make sense until years later.” His jaw tightened, muscle contorting beneath his beard. “But at the time, it was quiet talk about my family keeping... assets. Special workers who never left the palace grounds.”

Naya remained perfectly still. This raw honesty from him was dangerous territory, and she could sense the anger simmering.

“No one in my family ever spoke of it directly, and definitely not to me. I thought the whispers were just... anger or resentment about our wealth, our power. Lies from the minority of people who always tried to diminish what the Sy Dynasty had accomplished.

“So I didn’t believe it. Not until the second wave was about to happen and I saw my parents and uncles in a panic like nothing I’d seen before.” His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. “They were terrified, scrambling like fucking maniacs, demanding that every member of the family search for their ‘artifacts.’ When the panic set in and they realized these ‘artifacts’ were going to die without intervention, the truth came out.”

He shifted beneath her, reaching for a tray of food that sat on the low table beside their cushions. The movement brought her more upright in his lap, but his arms still held her. He selected a bowl of stew and rice and handed it to her with a spoon, and pulled a plate of flatbread closer.

“I was already disgusted with how they treated our people,” he said, tearing bread with unnecessary violence. “The way they bled citizens dry while living in luxury. But to learn that ourwealth was built on the backs of Omega slavery...” His jaw clenched hard enough to crack stone.

He paused, eyes dropping pointedly to her bowl. When she scooped up food and put it in her mouth, he continued. “One of the Omegas who died during the escape was the daughter of Jhonaal, a man who had helped teach me in the villages. Ttomi had been missing for three years. Three years her father had mourned her, believing wild magic had taken her.”

His voice changed, becoming rough and coarser. “When we learned she had been rotting in the palace dungeons all that time... he couldn’t even look at me anymore. Many from the community couldn’t bear the idea of me being a Sy, even though they knew me, they’d raised me.”

His hand covered hers where it rested against his chest, pressing her palm flat against the steady thump of his heartbeat. “Even I couldn’t bear it. Growing up, I was proud to be a Sy, proud of our legacy and achievements. Even many of the villages looked up to the Sy Dynasty. But right then, I realized they had built everything on the suffering of others.”

Naya studied his face as he spoke. “That’s what made you decide to do it?” she asked softly. “To go up against so many of them when you were so young?”

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