Page 57 of Storms of His Wrath

Ttela’s resistance wavered. After a long moment, she sighed. “I still believe it’s dangerous to abandon proven methods. But you’re right about the time constraints.” She studied Naya with keen eyes. “And I cannot explain how you’ve already accomplished things that should be impossible without training.”

“Why haven’t you experimented with your awareness here?” Yshara asked. “Tested these abilities in our environment?”

Naya glanced at Oshrun. “I’ve been cautious. When I first arrived, the Khesh warned me against accessing magic here because of your crystals. And before that, in the palace, I was concerned about drawing magic into the city again if I experimented too much.”

“But here in the canyon, you should be safe to try,” Oshrun said, finishing the logic thought process. “The protective crystals and the staff should help shield any magical disturbances from detection outside our borders.”

Relief flooded through Naya’s chest. “Then you’ll support me trying my own methods?”

“We can careful experiment over the next few days to make sure the crystals are not adversely affected,” Oshrun said. “We’ll monitor your attempts and provide whatever support we can.”

For the first time since arriving in the hidden community, Naya’s confidence about their chances of success soared. She hadn’t been able to see a safe way forward, but this was promising. And she couldn’t deny that Akoro’s unwavering belief in her abilities had planted seeds of self-assurance that were finally beginning to bloom. She wasn’t a failure—she was simply different and that could be a good thing, for this community and her own belief in her abilities.

Hours later, Naya made her way through the Isshiran Sands, anticipation quickening her steps. The afternoon training session had gone well—her first careful attempts at extending awareness within the canyon’s protective boundaries had yielded promising results. The magical energy here felt different from her homeland, denser and more volatile, but not beyond her ability to sense and understand.

Through the wavering heat, Akoro’s silhouette emerged—tall, broad, unmistakably Alpha. Just the sight of him sent a flicker of heat down her spine, her scent shifting in response before she could try to tamp it down. He strode toward her with his usual predatory ease, all raw strength and silent purpose. A strange elation bubbled up in Naya’s chest. This time, instead of waiting for him to reach her, she ran toward him.

“Akoro!” His name burst from her lips as she launched herself into his arms.

He caught her easily, closing around her like a cage. “Someone had a good day,” his voice a low vibration against her chest.

“The best day,” she said, sighing. “We’re making real progress. They’ve agreed to me using my own magical methods instead of theirs, and I think it’s going to work.”

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. The pride there was so fierce it nearly winded her. “Of course it will work, Naya. I told you—you cannot fail. You won’t.”

The conviction in his voice landed deeper than praise—it struck something instinctive, curling pleasure and purpose together in her core.

He turned and carried her the rest of the way, her legs wrapped around his waist, one hand cradling the back of her head. His scent flooded her senses, thickened with the sharp spice of rising arousal. The closer they got to the tent, the harder it was to pretend she wasn’t already wet, already ready. By the time they arrived, the air between them vibrated with tension—breathless, heavy, inevitable.

He put her down, looking at her with an intensity that made her throb. “Is there anything you need from my end?” he asked. “I can get a message to the city if you need documents or to speak to my council… if it helps you find the Solution, it’s yours.”

Naya raised a brow. “I thought you didn’t believable in the Solution?”

Akoro’s eyes softened on her. “I don’t. But if anyone is going to figure it out, it’s going to be you. So if you need anything, you can have it.”

Instead of answering, Naya reached for the hem of her tunic and dragged it up over her head, letting the fabric fall away. She was showing him she’d worn no underwear at his request. All she had was skin and slick.

Her scent reached him and his eyes darkened, as he realized how prepared she was. How ready for him.

Akoro growled, desire rippling through his body.

She didn’t need to say anything, but she pressed her fingers against her folds, and scooped up her glistening slick, showing him just how drenched she was, how prepared and swollen she was. “Your tongue,” she whispered.

In the next breath, she was off her feet, his hands gripping her thighs as he lifted her and pinned her against the nearest wall. His mouth was already on her, hungry, ravenous, tongue delving into her folds with Alpha desperation. She cried out, head falling back, fingers threading through his hair.

He lapped and sucked like he was starving, devouring her slick as though it were his only purpose. And she knew they wouldn’t be speaking coherently again for a very long time.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

For the next three days, Akoro found himself living by a rhythm that felt both foreign and fundamental. Each night, he would watch Naya put her clothes back on, her movements efficient yet graceful as she prepared to head back to the Omega community for the night. Her clothes weren’t particularly revealing—they clung to her curves in ways that made his hands crave to touch her, but he restrained himself, content to observe the ritual of her departure.

He would take her into the swirling heat of the Isshiran Sands and place her down where he couldn’t go further, and he would stand watching until she was gone from sight. Only then would restlessness take hold—a gnawing need for her return that no amount of distraction could fully silence.

He sent word to his council using five of his men that he was pursuing critical intelligence in the desert. Until further notice, they were to handle routine matters without him. The decision had been practical, yet it freed him in ways he hadn’t expected. His days belonged entirely to her.

The hours crawled by with agonizing slowness. He would bathe using the bathing tube, check on his men, inspect their supplies, patrol the boundaries of their sand drift, groom hisnnirae, clean weapons—anything to fill the time until evening brought her back to him. But nothing eased the constant awareness of her absence, the way his instincts pulled toward the horizon where she would eventually reappear.

And when she finally appeared each evening, everything in him calmed.

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