Page 35 of Storms of His Wrath

Nothing moved as the women contemplated her words, the air thick with the weight of this revelation.

“What is the real significance of that?” asked the red-haired woman who had defended Naya’s right to speak, her voice barely above a whisper but piercing the silence.

“True Alphas possess the Alpha traits stronger than other Alphas,” Naya explained. “And it’s the same with true Omegas. When the dynamics get diluted enough, those traits will vanish from society.”

“Did this happen in your land?” another woman asked.

“No,” Naya said, shaking her head. “But it was starting to when my father conquered the land you know as the Eastern Lands.” She looked at each of the women around the table. “You probably haven’t noticed this because your society was once so full of true Alphas and Omegas that you don’t know what it looks like for them not to exist, and then you retreated from society so you wouldn’t necessarily see it,” she continued. “But imagine Alpha warriors who are no longer as strong, dominant, or fierce as they once were. Imagine Omegas who aren’t as... well, as we are. Not as intuitive, not as nurturing, not able to reproduce as easily.”

She pursed her lips. “My mother and I once spoke about whether Omegas would lose their affinity for magic if their dynamic traits faded too much. The connection to magic that makes us unique, makes us powerful, just… gone.” She glanced at Oshrun. “All your magical tools would be obsolete.”

Zhera’s expression twisted. “This sounds too much like all that bloodline talk,” she said, her voice hard. “Just like what the dynasties always cared about. That kind of thinking is what ruined this land to begin with.”

“It has nothing to do with that,” Naya shot back, her own voice sharpening to match the girl’s hostility. “I’m not suggesting some kind of breeding program. But we should be aware of what we risk losing—our essence, our very nature—if we completely abandon the biological foundation of what we are.”

“We are protecting that right now,” Zhera argued, “by keeping this place hidden and safe. You can’t just come here and tell us to throw away everything we’ve built.”

Naya shook her head, frustration clawing at her chest. “I’m not telling you that. I’m questioning if you have valid reasons for maintaining your isolation. And so far, I haven’t heard any good ones.”

The tension between them crackled in the air. Zhera’s eyes narrowed, studying Naya with a new, calculating intensity. “Did you find your true mate?” she asked suddenly.

The question threw her off-balance and for a moment she forgot to breathe. She hesitated, her throat tightening, heat flooding her neck as the afternoon’s devastating conversation with Akoro crashed over her again. The way his face had gone to stone. The terrible silence that followed. “Yes,” she admitted finally, the word rasping from her throat like rusted metal. “I did.”

Triumph blazed in Zhera’s eyes. “Then you’re blinded by your feelings. Your desires have clouded your judgment. We can’t trust anything you say about leaving the community that’s kept us safe all this time.”

“My opinion has nothing to do with him,” Naya said, but even as the words left her lips, she could hear the weakness in them, the way they trembled.

Something in her tone must have betrayed more than she intended. Zhera leaned forward, her eyes shining. “How can your opinion have nothing to do with this?” she pressed. “Don’t you love your mate? Aren’t you saying all Omegas should get to be with their true mates?

Every pair of eyes turned to Naya, waiting for her answer. The weight of their attention almost made her recoil, But she held their gazes and lifted her cup to take a long drink with hands that barely trembled.

Memories of Akoro flooded her mind—his dark eyes watching her through the night like a guardian shadow, his hands mapping her skin with devastating precision, his voice rough with desperate need when he took pleasure in her. And alongside those moments of impossible connection, the darker truths: his cruelty, his ruthless determination to conquer her empire, the way he had carved her face open to bind her to him.

Underneath it all, threading through every memory like a weaving stitch, the undeniable pull between them that she still couldn’t escape, couldn’t deny, no matter how desperately she tried. The true mate attraction that would torment her for the rest of her life, even though she’d walked away.

“The Alpha/Omega connection is intensely beautiful, yes,” Naya said quietly. “But I’m arguing that Omegas need Alphas and Alphas need Omegas beyond just pleasure. Extended complete absence of either one isn’t good for the other. And the dilution I’m talking about isn’t something you see in a lifetime, it’s only over generations that it will become noticeable. So you don’t have to do anything, but your children’s children will find themselves in this situation if you don’t take it seriously.”

The words settled over the table like dust, met with uncomfortable silence and averted gazes. Some women shifted in their seats, clearly unsettled. Naya rose slowly, recognizing the conversation had reached its natural end. Without another word, she turned and walked away, leaving them to contemplate her warning.

Footsteps approached Naya’s chamber as she was trying to sleep, and she lifted her head to see the Omega who had summoned her to the assembly earlier in the day. Urgency tightened the lines around her weathered face, more pronounced than before.

“Princess,” she said without preamble. “The assembly has called an emergency meeting. Your presence is requested immediately.”

Naya’s stomach dropped. She pushed herself up from where she’d been laying on her sleeping furs. “What’s happened?”

“I cannot say. Please dress quickly.”

The woman’s tone left no room for debate. Naya hurried to throw on a tunic and smooth down her hair. Her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the fabric, nervous energy crackling through her limbs. What could have prompted such urgency? Had something happened with Akoro? With the storm?

The path to the assembly chamber felt different in the evening light. Shadows stretched longer between the carved passages, and the embedded crystals cast a softer, more ethereal glow across the stone corridors. The chamber itself was transformed—where afternoon sunlight had poured down in golden columns, now lanterns flickered against the walls, their warm light dancing across the intricate carvings and making the entire space feel both more intimate and more sacred.

All twelve women were present, but the atmosphere had shifted dramatically from the morning’s measured deliberation. Tension radiated from every seated figure, their postures rigid with barely contained emotion. Even in the flickering lamplight, Naya could see the tightness around their eyes, the way hands gripped armrests or fidgeted against stone.

“Please, sit,” Oshrun said, gesturing toward the bench at the circle’s center.

But before Naya could even move toward her seat, one of the Omegas shot to her feet. This was a woman who hadn’t questioned her during the morning session; she was about Oshrun’s age with intricate tattoos marking her temples and fury blazing in her dark eyes.

“Does your status as princess in your land give you the right judge us?” The attack slammed into Naya, the woman’s voice echoing off the chamber walls with harsh intensity. “What makes you think we’re so weak? Why do you believe Omegas are incapable of creating meaningful lives without being owned by Alphas?”

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