Page 37 of Scars of His Wrath

With the sunlight streaming in, it was an earthy, beautiful room with artwork and detail on the walls. It was much bigger than she realized, but there were no adjoining rooms and no washroom, yet it was designed and decorated elaborately. Single rooms like this were typically what most of the Lox population had in their homes, but the way the room was designed and decorated didn’t seem typical. It was strange that he placed her in such luxury.

After she examined everything she could, she sat on the cushions by the lattice window. The view overlooked the enormous city, a canvas of honey browns, creams, and sun-faded yellows. From this view, it was almost impossible to believe that the outer areas had been so damaged and abandoned. War and time could do a lot of damage to a city, and she did not know the history of this place, but it was odd they had left the outskirts in ruins.

She padded back to bed and looked at the meal on the tray—cubed fried potatoes, saucy beans, and a crinkly blue pepper, all accompanied by a strong, heady liquid in a tiny cup. Next to the bed platform was a thin stand with a wide base and a ring at the top holding a long, knobby tmae with its top cut open.

Naya lifted the tmae and sat on the platform to sip it and formulate a plan.

Papa always said that trying to get out of a complex situation without a strategy was like entering a lion’s den with nothing but hope—brave but foolish. For him every battle was an opportunity to demonstrate his superiority, every enemy a puzzle to be solved and eventually break.

He’d been in one of his big-headed moods at the time—Mama always rolling her eyes behind him—and Naya laughed at them. But she never forgot the teaching. And now she could see why some enemies required those extreme measures.

She sipped the tmae, thinking everything through until she’d decided on four clear goals.

One; escape and warn her father. Papa needed to be armed with as much information as possible about the threat he faced. No one knew the beast existed, and even though her disappearance might raise suspicions, her parents didn’t know how powerful and cruel their opponent was.

To achieve that goal, running again without a real chance to escape wasn’t an option. She had to be calm, considered, and careful. It was over ten days of travel across the desert to get back to where she’d first arrived in this Land, assuming that was the way home.

Two; be selective. She'd promised the beast information, but that had to be carefully selected and presented. He’d clearly been to her Lands, but for how long? And how much did he know? He planned to hold her to her word and would punish her severely if she lied. Nothing should jeopardize goal number one, so telling him the truth was best, but navigating this would be crucial. Giving information to him didn’t mean telling him everything or offering knowledge he didn’t ask for.

Three; learn. If she was going to find a way home, she had to learn more about the culture, land, and its people. The turbulent sand under the dark clouds in the desert seemed to have caused the earlier urgency. But that didn’t exclude the possibility that the beast had enemies, especially if the ruins were any indication. And that could be exploited.

If all else failed—if she couldn't return home or warn Papa—her only recourse was to do everything she could to fuck up the beast’s plans. That meant learning everything about him.

Four; accept she had no true mate.

Naya set the tmae back in its stand. That last goal had no specific strategy other than resisting her reactions to him and staying as far away as possible. That shouldn’t be a problem. She’d thought her magical blocks had been removed, but they must have left some lingering effects, otherwise their attraction would have been far more intense. Having studied war crimes and strategies, she knew that since she was a new prisoner, he’d want to make her suffer again—because he was fucking crazy—and it was clear that he wasn’t compelled by her scent the way she was by his. Once he got bored with making her suffer, he’d focus on his invasion.

The real issue for her was grieving the idea of him. Without a mate, she couldn’t lead effectively or be the Omega her people deserved. That had been crushed out of existence the moment she realized who her mate was.

All she could do was protect them from this invasion, and after the Lox Empire crushed the beast, she’d talk to Drocan and see what he thought about ruling—or any of her siblings. She’d also see if Lonn still wanted to marry her without the title, and then start her life from there.

The notion cast a shadow within her, extinguishing a long-burning flame that Gramma, and even her parents had kindled. Maybe an Omega’s mate was supposed to be all the amazing things everyone said, but Naya’s wasn’t. She’d never have that kind of love—the kind her parents had. Tears blurred her vision, but she quickly got up. She couldn’t sink into the reality of that loss right now.

Stretching her body slow and intentional, she worked through a warming sequence like she used to at the start of her training sessions, then practiced her basic combat positions. Since she had time and space, she might as well practice something that could help her at some point. She hadn't trained properly in six years, and even though she was certain that wasn't the reason for her defeat in the forest, it still stung that she hadn’t even heard the beast’s ambush. She was out of practice.

She worked through her training sequences for her combat specialisms, progressing from basic to mastery as she sought to reawaken what her body once knew instinctively. Gradually she slipped into a rhythm, each move becoming more assured and powerful, increasing in speed. And then she fell out of rhythm.

Annoyed, she began again. Slow and practiced, increasing gradually.

As she fell out repeatedly, her irritation escalated with each attempt until she finally yelled at the wall. Her training was coming back to her, but it didn’t feel the same. She didn’t have the same power she used to, and she was damn slow.

Refocusing her energies, she started again, and persisted until her body ached like she’d fought fifty Lox warriors at once, but she’d lost her edge.

Papa had trained her for what was happening right now, yet for the past six years she’d been selfishly looking for her mate instead of keeping up with her training. And it’d been a gross waste of time. She’d literally seen the enemy in her forest and ignored the little instinct she had left, too preoccupied about her next pairing meeting to take it seriously. She was a fucking disappointment to her people, to the empire her father had built, and most of all, to Papa.

She channeled her seething rage into her training, and by the time the feeling eased, her body ached, her throat had flared up again, and her rage had smoothed into steely determination. She was her papa’s daughter—his firstborn, and she wouldn’t continue to let him down.

The day crept by, rays of sun inching through the room. Naya continued increasing the intensity of her sequences until she was close to the pace she was used to.

Drenched in sweat and moving at an incredible speed, she caught the faint whisper of the door opening. She forced herself to arrive at a neat stop, the air sharp in her heaving lungs.

The round-cheeked aide who had helped her bathe yesterday came in with clothing neatly folded over her arm. She smiled at Naya, but it faded when she saw Naya panting and sweaty, and disappeared at the sight of the tray.

"Hhe llu kkunnenmir hhe kaeplu??" she said, confusion in her eyes.

Naya stared back at her. Was she forgetting Naya didn't speak the language? She grabbed the tmae, sipping it while the aide placed the clothes on the bed.

She faced Naya, smiling again. “Nuk ttae tikshon nlik hhe nnu ppo tshike shi llepae." Then she added, in a thick accent, "Good morning."

Source: www.allfreenovel.com