Page 22 of Bound to the Marak

The fear crept back in like a slow, cold tide.

She missed Alfie. Missed his warm little body pressed against her at night. Missed her flat in London. Her coworkers at the hospital. The sterile white walls of the surgical ward. Herlife.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away fiercely.

No. No, not now. You can’t fall apart.

She needed her wits about her. Needed to stay strong. If she let herself slip into despair now, she might never climb out.

At least Karian wasn’t the monster she thought he’d be. Not yet, anyway.

And as much as she hated to admit it…

There was something about him. Something that called to her. Something that made her skin remember his touch even when her mind screamed caution.

She’d play along. For now.

Until she knew more.

Until she found a way to survive… and maybe, one day, go home.

Thirteen

The stars blurred into streaks of silver and violet as the Velthra pierced through the fabric of space, sliding into the wormhole like a blade through silk. Karian stood at the helm, cloaked in silence, his black-gloved hands resting on the forward control interface. The hum of the ship’s energy core resonated with the rhythm of his breath.

Luxar was near.

It had been over a cycle since he last left his dominion. He hated being away—hated giving his enemies even the illusion of absence. But when word reached him of the human, something ancient and undeniable had stirred within him.

Curiosity. Hunger.

And now, possession.

She was his.

Not just as a matter of law or auction claim—but something deeper. He could feel it in his blood, in the primal part of him Majarin civilization had long since tried to temper. Every moment since they had shared touch—her soft hand trembling slightly against his skin, her eyes searching his masked face for meaning—he had thought of her. Relived it.

Her warmth.

Her scent.

Her soft, inquisitive gaze.

Karian clenched his jaw, willing away the intensity building in his core. No. Not yet.

He would not frighten her. Her innocence was not weakness—it was rare. Refreshing. A soul untouched by the games of interstellar courts and the constant threat of betrayal.

He wanted her willing. Curious. Open.

He wanted… her trust.

And more than that—he wanted her to want him.

His thoughts were interrupted as the chamber doors slid open with a soft hiss. Temian, his most trusted attendant, entered and bowed deeply, the ceremonial folds of his blue robe pooling on the obsidian floor.

“My Marak,” Temian said gravely, his voice edged with urgency. “We have received reports. The Tixan fleet has entered our system. They pierced the Nebulith Expanse five rotations ago and now orbit the outer rings of Luxar. They believe you absent.”

Karian’s muscles tightened.

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