Page 62 of Storms of His Wrath

Naya’s lips curved up, looking at him with feigned exasperation. “You don’t have to worry about Lonn.”

“I fucking do.” He growled again. “You’re going back there.”

Naya sighed. “Lonn wouldn’t have been good for me even if I never found you.”

“You’re saying that now, but you let him sniff you in a pairing event.” His annoyance at the conversation was starting to burn in his chest.

Naya seemed able to sense it. “A pairing meeting, “she corrected softly. “And there was no sniffing, not then.”

Akoro’s resolve snapped. He sat up, yanking her with him. “Then when? When did he fucking sniff you?”

Naya stared at him, wide-eyed, frozen, nipples hardening. Instantly, he could smell her arousal billowing out around them. His eyes narrowed.

So she liked his jealousy.

She lifted a hand slowly, and placed it on his face, her palm cool. “Nothing will ever happen with Lonn. Nothing. Even if I go back and never see you again, it won’t happen. I’d rather be on my own.”

That sounded better than the alternative, but it still wasn’t great. He should be with her. She was too small, too beautiful to be alone. He struggled with that primal need to be her Alpha, knowing that wasn’t what she wanted.

They held each other’s gaze until slowly, the tension drifted out of him. Naya lowered her hand and snuggled into him. Akoro lay back down, holding her close. “You were telling me about your brother,” he said. “That he needs more battle experience.”

“Yes, according to Papa,” she murmured. Her voice grew thoughtful. “Drocan’s always been frustrated by the lack of real conflicts to prove himself. Our empire has been peaceful for so long.”

“Peace is a gift,” Akoro said. The thought of her growing up safe from the magical catastrophes that had shaped his own life sent fierce protectiveness surging through him.

“I know that now. But when you’re young and eager to prove yourself...” She shifted against him, her softness remolding to his hardness. “He told me once that I was lucky to have a clear path to leadership, while he had to wait for wars that might never come. I never understood the burden that path carried until I came here.”

“What burden is that?”

“The knowledge that every decision you make affects so many lives. That leadership means being responsible for people’s futures, their safety, their happiness.” Her voice grew quieter. “He sees me as heir to the throne and thinks that’s simple. But the truth is, I’ve spent years questioning whether I’m strong enough to rule an empire, even before Lili.”

He shook his head. “You are stronger than almost anyone I know,” he said.

She scoffed softly. “Your belief in me is?—”

“You survived me, didn’t you?”

The words came out before he could think about it, and he winced inwardly. But he didn’t regret them, couldn’t think of anyone who would go through what she’d gone through what he put her through and still allow him to hold her like this.

She was quiet, the moment sobering for them both.

“You’ve proved yourself, Naya,” he said, his voice low and coarse. “And your people have never even required you to do that.”

“It’s the hardest part, isn’t it? Knowing that your people trust you to keep them safe but also knowing that sometimes keeping them safe requires making impossible choices.”

Recognition seeped in his bones. “It is the contradiction of leadership. Every day. Every decision I make affects thousands of lives. When I banned Omegas, I knew some would probably die alone in the desert, but I also knew that leaving them in populated areas would meannnin-eellithiattacks that would killhundreds.” His jaw tightened. “There are no clean choices when you rule. Someone suffers either way.”

“Drocan said something similar once. That true leadership means making decisions others couldn’t live with.” She lifted her head to study his face. “Is that what separates rulers from everyone else? The willingness to carry that responsibility?”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s just stubbornness.” The admission surprised him—he’d never spoken so openly about the isolation that came with absolute authority. “Your brother sounds wise for his age.”

“He is. But sometimes I envy how certain he is about his path. He knows he wants to be a military leader, knows what he’s willing to sacrifice. I’ve spent years questioning whether I have what it takes.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m learning that strength isn’t about certainty. It’s about making hard choices, even when you’re terrified of the consequences.” Her fingers pressed against his chest, each touch claiming him. “You understand that kind of fear, don’t you?”

No one had ever asked him about fear—not his council, not his brother, certainly not his subjects who looked to him for unwavering strength. “Yes,” he said simply.

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