Page 72 of Storms of His Wrath

“A technique your family created to enslave our people.” Her words cut like a blade, testing his response with precision.

The accusation hung in the perfumed air between them. Akoro noticed Naya’s attention sharpen beside him, her body tensing as she waited for his answer.

“Yes,” he said, meeting Oshrun’s penetrating gaze directly. “A technique my family used to commit atrocities I spent my entire adult life trying to atone for.”

The directness seemed to surprise her. Beside him, Naya’s subtle relaxation sent approval radiating from her in waves that made his chest swell with pride. Her good opinion mattered more than any political victory.

“You speak of atonement,” Oshrun said, leaning forward slightly. “What does that look like beyond this crisis?”

“Full integration like you asked for,” Akoro said, hoping he sounded as committed as he felt. “Recognition of Ilia as an autonomous district with equal standing. Protection under law for all Omegas. And...” He paused, deciding on a choice that would change everything. “Public acknowledgment of what my family did, and formal reparations to your community.”

Nrommo shifted almost imperceptibly—this was clearly the first time he’d heard such specific commitments. Naya’s hand moved slightly on the cushion beside him, close enough thathe could sense the warmth radiating from her skin. The urge to reach for her, to claim that connection openly, was almost overwhelming.

“I won’t insult you by pretending history doesn’t matter,” he continued, his eyes moving briefly to Naya before returning to Oshrun. “I won’t claim that using this method for salvation erases what it was used for before. But if we refuse to use knowledge that could save lives simply because of how it was acquired, we still lose, just in a different way.”

Oshrun’s amber eyes bore into him with the weight of absolute judgment. She wasn’t just weighing his words—she was measuring the man behind them, testing whether he possessed the wisdom to be trusted with secrets that could destroy everything her people had built. The very air seemed to hold its breath.

“You’re asking us,” she said finally, “to trust you with our lives based on promises about a future that may never come.”

“No,” Akoro said, his gaze finding Naya and lingering there with undisguised hunger. The sight of her—beautiful, intelligent, fierce—sent heat spiraling through his veins, and pride searing his heart. “I’m asking you to trust her. Princess Naya has seen the worst of me and still believes this plan can work. If you trust her judgment, then you can trust this alliance.”

The words carried more weight than mere political strategy. They carried the truth of his complete faith in the woman beside him, his willingness to stake everything on her wisdom and strength. Naya’s scent shifted, making his nostrils flare with an answering hunger.

Oshrun studied him with the intensity of someone weighing lives in the balance. Around them the chamber seemed to hold its breath, crystal light playing across ancient carvings while incense smoke curled toward the opening above.

When she finally spoke, her question was simple but loaded with meaning that made the air itself seem to darken. “If this plan fails and Princess Naya is killed in the attempt, what will you do?”

The chamber went dead silent. The muscle beneath his beard twitched, but when he answered, his voice was rough with barely controlled irritation and absolute certainty. “I would burn the world to ash.” His dark eyes never left Oshrun’s face. “Then I would follow her into whatever comes after.”

Beside him, Naya’s breathing increased. The primitive satisfaction of having affected her so deeply warred with the vulnerability of having exposed his heart so completely.

“Even though your people would need you?”

“This is for my people. This is the single biggest effort to help Tsashokra since the Tri-Dynasty era, and my Omega is at the helm.” The words came out flat, final, carrying the weight of absolute truth. “What more could I do for them if I failed to protect her?”

Something shifted in Oshrun’s expression, understanding passing across her features like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. She glanced at Naya, taking in the subtle signs of arousal and emotional response, then back to Akoro with what might have been approval.

“Very well,” she said, rising from her carved seat with fluid grace. “We support the plan.”

Relief flooded through Akoro and he silently exhaled.

“However,” Oshrun continued, “before we proceed, there’s someone your brother should meet.” Her amber eyes shifted to Oppo’s face, and something warm softened her formal demeanor. “If you would come with me?”

Oppo rose on unsteady legs, years of longing blazing in his expression. Oshrun moved to a door at the chamber’s far side, pausing to look back at the rest of them.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable. This may take some time.”

They disappeared through the opening, leaving Akoro alone with Naya and Nrommo in the crystal-lit chamber. The battle chief immediately moved to examine the carved walls more closely, his professional curiosity overriding diplomatic protocol now that the formal negotiations had concluded.

“Come,” Akoro said to Naya, his voice rougher than intended. “Let’s see what’s happening.”

He led her to a narrow window carved into the chamber’s wall, one that offered a view of a small courtyard garden below. What they saw there made his chest tighten.

Oshrun knelt in the garden, speaking softly to a little girl who clung to her robes with obvious shyness. The child wore a bright yellow dress, her hair styled in intricate braids. When Oppo appeared, moving slowly so as not to frighten her, the little girl’s wide eyes studied his face with curious intensity.

“Nnimi,” he murmured.

“She’s beautiful,” Naya whispered beside him, her voice thick with emotion.

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