Page 38 of Storms of His Wrath

“I am.” She forced the words from her throat with effort. “I understand that he’s been hurt, that he’s gone through trauma, but I don’t think I can forgive him.” She paused, swallowing hard against the ache in her chest. The Omegas around the table stared at her, their faces frozen with wonder and soft understanding, but she pressed on. “It’s difficult because I have looked for my mate for a long time. And being with Akoro is... incredible. It’s beyond anything I could have ever dreamed it to be. But we are all just people, and we all make our own choices. I cannot forgive his.”

She lifted her head, meeting their gazes directly. “Just because I cannot be with my mate doesn’t mean there aren’t suitable Alphas for everyone here. The problem isn’t thedynamic itself—it’s finding the right circumstances, the right protections, with an Alpha who adores you.”

Around the circle, several faces softened into understanding smiles. The woman with the soothing voice nodded slowly. “Thank you. For your honesty. For sharing something so painful to help us understand.”

Others murmured their agreement, and Naya felt the last of the hostility in the chamber dissolve into something warmer. The acceptance in their faces should have brought comfort, but instead it solidified something that had been building in Naya’s mind throughout the discussions. She looked around the circle of women, each carrying their own wounds, their own carefully constructed defenses against a world that had proven itself capable of terrible cruelty.

She understood their fears because she lived them. The way they spoke of Alphas with suspicion and wariness, the careful distance they maintained from anything that might threaten their hard-won safety… it mirrored her own retreat from Akoro, her own decision to choose protection over possibility. But they had to at least try to overcome their fear.

The chamber settled into contemplative quiet, each woman lost in her own thoughts. The flickering lamplight painted moving shadows on the walls, and Naya realized that sometimes the most difficult conversations were like those shadows—constantly shifting, revealing new truths with each change in perspective, but always cast by the same unchanging light.

CHAPTER TEN

The soft sound of footsteps against stone once again stirred Naya from uneasy sleep. She pushed herself upright on the sleeping furs, hair tangled around her head, and she found Oshrun standing at the entrance to her chamber. Morning light filtered down through the canyon's natural openings, casting gentle shadows across the Khesh's face.

Something was different about Oshrun's demeanor. Her usual composed authority seemed frayed at the edges, uncertainty flickering in her amber eyes. She held her crystal staff loosely in one hand, but her grip lacked its typical confidence.

"Good morning," Naya said, automatically reaching for her clothes. Since her first night there, a pile of clothing had appeared in her room. "Is everything all right?"

Oshrun smiled. "I have something I need to tell you. Will you walk with me?"

Naya rose, slipping her feet into the simple sandals beside her sleeping platform. She followed Oshrun from the chamber, curiosity and apprehension warring in her chest. Had her harshwords last night caused irreparable damage? What had the assembly decided?

They walked in silence through the winding passages, past chambers where the sounds of morning routines drifted through carved doorways—the soft murmur of voices, the rustling sheets and clothes, children's sleepy laughter. The familiar sounds of a community awakening should have been comforting, but tension radiated from Oshrun's rigid shoulders.

As they climbed a gentle slope toward the upper levels of the canyon, Oshrun finally spoke. "I want to thank you for your candor last night."

Naya stumbled slightly, catching herself against the stone wall. "Thank me?" She studied Oshrun's profile, searching for any hint of sarcasm or hidden meaning. "I thought I might have offended everyone."

"You did offend some.” Oshrun’s braids clicking softly as she turned her head and shot Naya a wry smile. "But someone needed to say those things. We've become too comfortable, too insular. Your words forced conversations that have been avoided for too long."

They turned down a narrower passage, this one carved with more intricate patterns than the common areas. The walls here held a different quality of light, warmer somehow, more personal.

"Change is never easy," Oshrun continued, her voice measured and thoughtful. "Especially when it challenges beliefs that have kept us safe for generations. But safety without purpose becomes its own kind of prison."

Naya remained quiet. While she stood behind everything she said last night, she shouldn’t have lost her temper. She’d never seen Mama snap like that under any circumstances. Doubt about her ability to rule resurfaced throughout the night in the form of unsettling dreams she couldn’t remember.

“You didn’t say anything when I was upset yesterday,” she said to Oshrun. “Did you guess? About me and Akoro?”

Oshrun lifted a shoulder. “When he came after you and wouldn’t leave, I suspected. But when he didn’t storm the canyon coming after you, I wasn’t sure.”

Naya nodded, thankful she hadn’t said anything to the other Omegas before she did.

The passage opened into chambers clearly designated for living quarters, a home that was both practical and beautiful. Smooth stone floors covered in woven rugs in rich, earthy tones, low cushioned benches piled with pillows in warm shades of amber and deep blue, and shelves carved directly into the rock holding books, scrolls, carved wooden figures, and children's drawings carefully preserved and displayed. One corner held a meditation space with a circular woven mat before a low altar, while the opposite side featured a low table covered with maps and detailed drawings of various districts.

A soft rustling came from the child's alcove. Oshrun's entire demeanor shifted at the sound. "Mima?" A sleepy voice drifted from behind the colorful hanging fabrics.

"I'm here, little one," Oshrun called, moving toward the alcove. "We have a visitor."

Small feet pattered, then Nnimi appeared at the entrance to her sleeping area. She wore a simple sleep tunic and wide-eyed, sleepy expression. When she spotted Naya, the little girl froze. The shy uncertainty that had marked their first meeting returned, transforming the confident child from yesterday's games into a shy and hesitant little shadow.

"Good morning, Nnimi," Naya said gently, crouching down to the child's eye level. "Did you sleep well?"

Nnimi nodded but pressed closer to her mother's side, one small hand gripping the fabric of Oshrun's robes. The vulnerability in her posture sent a pang through Naya's chest—areminder of Lili's similar morning shyness when she’d been this age.

Oshrun settled onto the low cushioned seating area, lifting Nnimi onto her lap with practiced ease. The child curled against her mother's chest, still watching Naya with curious but cautious eyes.

"Nnimi," Oshrun said, stroking her daughter's wild hair with gentle fingers, "Princess Naya is going to be leaving us soon. But before she goes, I think there's something you should share with her."

---