Page 13

Thirteen

T he 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.

Fools.

“Their numbers?” he asked coolly.

“Twenty ships. Four carriers. At least three flagged with siege-class weaponry.”

Karian's tentacles unfurled behind him, coiling in slow, controlled arcs. “They bring siege craft… to my territory?”

“They think you’re still at the edge of the quadrant. They were emboldened by the whispers of your departure. Spies, no doubt. Planted in the trade networks.”

A low, rumbling sound escaped Karian’s chest. “Then they’ve made two grave mistakes. Believing me weak… and thinking I would return alone.”

He turned to the forward display. Beyond the shimmering edge of the wormhole, Luxar’s star system was beginning to emerge. And with it, twelve Majarin destroyers—his personal fleet. Sleek, vast, and cloaked in living metal.

“They will learn the error of both assumptions,” he said.

Temian bowed again. “Shall I prepare the war command chamber, my lord?”

Karian nodded. “Summon the captains. Ready the planetary defenses. Position the Velthra at the command point. We meet them at Luxar’s edge.”

As Temian moved to leave, Karian paused.

“And send word to the human. Let her know I will return soon… and that she is safe.”

Temian looked surprised but nodded. “Yes, my Marak.”

When the doors closed, Karian remained still for a moment longer.

He had enemies to crush. A planet to protect.

But even now, at the edge of war… his thoughts turned to her.

Her touch had awakened something in him—something more than hunger, more than curiosity. Something he hadn’t felt in cycles.

And once this battle was done… he would explore that feeling.

Thoroughly.