Page 56 of Storms of His Wrath

She did reluctantly at first, but the strength in his gaze held her. There was no judgment in those dark eyes. Only fierce, quiet belief.

“If their tool didn’t respond to you,” he said, “then it wasn’t made for someone like you. That’s not your fault. You are a veryspecial Omega. You cannot make yourself smaller to fit someone else’s relationship with magic. You have your own.”

The tears caught in her throat. That simple truth settled deep in her chest, warm and painful all at once. Something shy and pleased bloomed inside her at his conviction. Her pulse steadied under his reassuring touch, and she found herself breathing deeper, some of the tension melting from her frame.

“You really believe that?” she asked, barely a whisper.

“I know it.” His hand slid along her jaw, reverent. “I watched you for a long time in your land, Naya. You don’t even know how long. I’ve seen the things you can do. I’ve felt your power and watched you control forces that would humble the fiercest armies.” He paused, his eyes searching hers. “I know this because I’ve felt that strength myself—the force of your will, your refusal to break.”

Something soft unfolded inside her, vulnerable and comforted.

“You learned what you needed to learn from these Omegas,” he said, “but you don’t need to do it their way.”

Naya pressed her face into the curve of his neck, breathing him in. For the first time since leaving the canyon that morning, the knot of anxiety in her chest began to loosen. His scent wrapped around her like armor, and his absolute faith in her abilities filled her with quiet determination for whatever tomorrow might demand.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The morning air carried the familiar scent of brewingkkermoas Naya settled onto the stone ledge overlooking the canyon. She arrived early, savoring the quiet moments before the others joined her for training. The ceramic cup warmed her palms as she sipped the bitter, aromatic drink, each taste bringing back memories of yesterday’s eye-opening conversation with Akoro.

Satisfaction hummed through her veins and her muscles ached in delicious ways that reminded her of every moment spent tangled with him—the way he’d let her control, let her touch, how his restraint had finally shattered under her ministrations. The memory of his growl when she’d straddled him sent heat spiraling through her core even now.

She’d almost stayed too long last night. After their coupling, they’d shared a meal in comfortable silence, then talked quietly about inconsequential things—the desert stars, the strange beauty of the Isshiran Sands, small details about which foods she liked here. It had felt dangerously intimate, more threatening to her boundaries than even their most passionate encounters.

When she’d finally realized how late it had gotten, Akoro said he had assumed she would stay until morning. The suggestionhad tempted her more than she cared to admit, but she’d insisted on returning to the canyon. If she woke in his arms, surrounded by his scent and the memory of his touch, there would be no guarantee when she’d be able to leave and start training on time. Their attraction was much too consuming to chance it.

Of course, Akoro hadn’t been pleased. For a moment, she’d thought he might simply refuse to let her go. That familiar possessive tension had gathered in his shoulders, his jaw tightening with barely restrained protest. But ultimately, he’d carried her back to their usual meeting spot, standing like a watchman as she walked toward the hidden canyon entrance.

She’d kept glancing back despite her insistence that he return to camp for safety, watching his silhouette against the shifting sands until she could no longer see him. The image of him standing there, motionless and waiting, had followed her through the winding passages to her chambers.

Their connection had shifted, she realized. When he’d comforted her about the failed attempt with the staff, there had been something different in his approach. He’d even acknowledged, indirectly, the harshness in his earlier treatment of her. It should have been reassuring, yet it also made maintaining emotional distance more challenging. These glimpses of the man he could be, the Alpha who supported rather than dominated, threatened her resolve in ways his possessiveness never could.

“Good morning, princess.” Yshara’s calming voice pulled Naya from her thoughts, the former Khesh approaching with her usual graceful stride.

“Good morning,” Naya replied, setting down her cup as Ttela and Oshrun joined them on the training plateau.

Once they’d settled into their circle, Naya drew a steadying breath. “I’ve been thinking about yesterday’s session,” she said. “About why the staff didn’t work for me.”

Yshara brightened with interest. “And what conclusions have you reached?”

“I don’t think the problem is my magical ability,” Naya said, looking at each of them in turn. “I think the issue is that your tools and my magic work fundamentally differently.”

Ttela’s brow furrowed. “Explain.”

“In my land, I don’t use tools at all. I work directly with magical energy through what we call awareness—a way of sensing and connecting with magic that exists everywhere.” Naya paused, organizing her thoughts. “It’s like having an extra sense that feels vibrations, moods, even the personality of different magical forces. At least, that’s how it is for me.”

The two former kheshs exchanged glances, their faces stretching in amazement as Naya continued, “Before I came here, I’d learned to extend my awareness across vast distances—sensing magic throughout my entire empire, even guiding wild magical energy from one region to another.” She gestured toward the distant horizon. “During a journey through the Sands, I could feel thennin-eellithimoving around us. Not just their presence, but their behavior and intentions. They circled our camp like curious animals, testing boundaries, sometimes retreating for hours before returning.”

Oshrun leaned forward, amber eyes wide. “You could sense them directly? Without any tools?”

“Yes. They felt alive to me—not mindless forces, but entities with purpose and personality.” Naya’s excitement built as she spoke. “If that’s true, then perhaps I don’t need your staff to communicate with them. Maybe I can connect directly.”

“Impossible,” Ttela said sharply. “No one has ever managed such a connection without proper tools and years of training.”

“But how else do you explain what I experienced?” Naya challenged gently. “How could I track their movements, sense their moods, if there wasn’t already some form of connection?”

Yshara nodded slowly, her eyes squinted in thought. “It does align with what you’ve described about your magical abilities. If you can sense energy across an entire empire...” She trailed off, the implications settling over the group.

“We have less than two weeks,” Naya pressed. “Learning to use your methods properly could take months, if it’s even possible for me. But if I can work with my own abilities...”

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