Page 32 of Storms of His Wrath

“I knew that with time you would eventually accept that your empire had been conquered, but you were still angry and in denial. You hadn’t surrendered to me. So, at that time, I felt I had no choice. Thennol ttaehh maelwas the first solution that came to mind.” He lowered his voice. “I’m not saying I’m proud of that, but I was furious… at you, at the situation, at myself for wanting something I’d never planned to have.”

Naya remained silent, her mind racing. The harsh honesty of his explanation left her unsettled, uncertain whether to be horrified by his cruelty or moved by the vulnerability and obsession beneath it. Her inner Omega recognized the territorial desperation in his actions, even as her rational mind recoiled from the violence of his solution.

Akoro’s scent shifted, becoming heavier, more complex. “When I was young, the older men in the villages spoke sometimes about Alpha and Omega pairs, but by the time I was born, no one in Tsashokra expected to ever be with an Omega. The concept is almost mythical to us, something from old stories, impossible dreams.” His voice dropped to a rumble thatvibrated through his chest. “I never expected to find an Omega let alone my true mate. I’d heard what it could be like, but I thought it was an exaggeration.”

His hand moved to cup her face, thumb stroking across her cheekbone. “Even those half-remembered tales didn’t prepare me for the reality of you. For how completely you would consume me, how every breath would become about keeping you safe and satisfied and mine.”

The intensity in his gaze made her breath catch. She could taste his desire building between them again, feel the barely restrained hunger in his grip.

“But I regret using thennol ttaehh,” he said finally. “I regret causing you that pain. And I regret that reaching for that as a solution has made me more like my family than anything else I’ve done.”

Naya exhaled, something powerful and primal unfurled in her chest at his admission. The brutal logic of his actions formed in her mind like pieces of a deadly puzzle finally clicking into place. He had been a weapon forged by necessity, shaped by shame and fury into something capable of destroying his own bloodline. That same weapon had turned on her, not from intended malice but from a desperate, possessive hunger he’d never realized existed and never learned to control.

It didn’t excuse what he’d done, but it explained his animalistic nature. He leaned so hard into his Alpha behaviors that violence coiled just beneath the surface of every interaction. He thought in ruthless terms because he’d had to be ruthless to reject his family and live up to his own expectations of what life should be for everyssukkurian.

Naya lifted the barely eaten bowl and gave it back to him to put down on the table, needing the moment to knit together everything that had happened and how he had explained himself.

“Akoro,” she began. “I understand what you’ve said. And I know everything you did was for your love of your people. I can’t imagine how it feels for your family to be so terrible that you felt you had no options. I don’t judge you for them—your world is so different from mine, and I respect how much you’ve done for your people to have recreated Onn Kkulma to the beautiful city it is. But your anger with your family, and your intense focus on your vow to your people has made you unable to even question your methods.

“I grew up with parents who love each other. An Alpha and an Omega who respect each other and would do anything to protect each other. I know I shouldn’t have expected my mate to be exactly like that, but the way you hurt me, Akoro…” Her voice turned hoarse. “…that will stay with me forever. You tortured me and then gave me a wound that could kill me. You refused to negotiate a reasonable deal for your people, and then you trapped me and lied to me. Even when I gave you everything you wanted, it wasn’t enough, you wanted my heart, body, and soul without once recognizing the damage you caused me, without recognizing that you had taken my freedom and my family from me.”

Akoro’s face turned to stone, his eyes intense and dark, but he said nothing, just watched her closely.

“We are not that different,” she said after a moment, her heart heavy. “Your people suffered, Omegas suffered too. You will fight for your people, I will fight for Omegas too. You are bound by the expectations of your people, as I am bound by mine. But the choices you made cut too deep. I cannot be an example to Omegas if I excuse how my Alpha has treated me. Not when he is so ruthlessly blinded by the needs of his people, that he doesn’t realize he’s repeating his family’s terrible mistakes.”

A low growl erupted from Akoro’s throat, but she pushed on.

“I’m not sure if you even realize how much you’re repeating them.” Tears blurred her vision, her voice almost breaking. “Maybe you did survive to help your people… but maybe my mate died that night.”

The words hung cold and final between them. Akoro’s head turned away, his entire frame coiled tight, grip bruising where he held her. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the sound of their breathing and the distant whisper of wind. His scent still wrapped around her—overwhelming, possessive, tinged now with bitterness.

Minutes crawled by before Naya shifted, preparing to rise from his lap. His hands moved instantly, curling around her.

“No, stay.” The command was rough as sandstone. His dark eyes searched hers. “Are you comfortable?”

The question was so unexpected, so careful, that she could only nod.

“Then stay.” His thumb traced along her ribs, just above where her heart hammered against bone. “It’slur ennen.”

His touch continued, slow and hypnotic strokes, until drowsiness crept through her limbs like a twisting vine. The weight of exhaustion pulled at her consciousness, and despite everything—despite the chasm that had widened so far between them—she found herself surrendering to sleep in the arms of the man who had broken her.

CHAPTER NINE

Naya curled deeper into the furs, pulling them over her head until the world narrowed to darkness and the salty sweet taste of her own tears. Hours had passed since she’d returned from the sand drift, since she’d left Akoro in the shimmering heat haze, and still the ache in her chest threatened to split her apart.

She pressed her face into the soft pelts, breathing in their earthy scent. Heat crept up her neck remembering how she surrendered to his touch, the way he’d made her shatter in his arms only minutes before she’d torn apart whatever remained between them. And then that terrible, devastating silence. She’d expected the explosive, possessive fury that had marked so many of their conversations. She’d braced herself for threats, for the brutal possession that usually followed her defiance.

Instead, he’d gone perfectly still beneath her, his breathing controlled and measured while something painful and volatile warred in his dark eyes. The growth she’d witnessed in that moment, his willingness to listen, to absorb her words without lashing out, should have given her hope. Instead, it carved her hollow. If it was growth, it was too late.

When she’d stirred from her doze in his arms, drowsy and warm against his chest, he’d spoken with quiet resolve, his voice rough and unwavering. “I’m still not leaving these Sands without you. Make sure you come tomorrow, Naya.” His hands had been sure as he’d helped her stand, steadying her. “If you don’t return, I’m coming to find you.” He was filled with certainty, not a threat but the tone of a man who had never learned to accept defeat.

The memory made fresh tears spill across her cheeks. She understood him now in ways that made her chest ache. The boy who’d destroyed his own family to save strangers, the man who’d buried his shame so deep he’d nearly lost himself in the process. That understanding drew her to him like gravity, made her want to reach out and offer comfort for wounds that had never properly healed.

But understanding him didn’t erase the choices he’d made. It didn’t change that when faced with wanting her, he’d reached for the same brutal tools his family had used. Thennol ttaehh maelscar on her cheek was proof of that. He could have, should have, chosen differently, and that knowledge sat heavy and immutable between them.

He’d carried her back to the edge of the Sands where he’d first spotted her, his steps measured and careful across the treacherous ground. When he’d set her down, his hands had gripped her waist for a heartbeat longer than necessary, as though memorizing the feel of her. Then he stepped back and watched her walk away.

She’d felt his eyes on her the whole time, burning between her shoulder blades with an intensity that made her spine straighten despite the tears threatening to fall. Even now, safe in the hidden canyon, she could still feel the weight of his gaze.

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