Page 25

Twenty-Five

S he had unmasked him.

The moment her trembling fingers lifted the ancient obsidian alloy from his face, something shifted. Not just in the air between them—but within him. Deep, primal.

It was sacrilege. Forbidden.

No being, not even the High Council, not even the most elite of the Yerak caste, dared gaze upon the face of a Marak. It was custom. Law. Worship. The face of a ruler was not a thing to be seen. It was to be revered, imagined, feared.

And yet, this small, delicate creature—a human—had disarmed him so easily.

Karian stood utterly still, watching her.

Her expression was reverent. Her awe was unfeigned. She saw him.

Not just his power. Not his title. She saw him.

And the weight of that truth settled into his bones like heat.

He had expected her to flinch. To avert her eyes. Instead, she looked upon him with something dangerously close to wonder.

Her scent flooded his senses. Sweet. Clean. Vibrant. A melody no Majarin female had ever carried. The bioluminescent light around them refracted through the waves of her hair, painting her skin in pale blues and golds. Her lips parted slightly, her breath quickened.

Karian's blood thickened. His arousal surged. It was instantaneous, brutal.

He was erect. His tentacles stirred of their own accord, sleek appendages twitching just beneath his garments. Primed. Aware.

The urge to claim her, to strip away those strange Earth-made fabrics and see her naked and vulnerable beneath him, rose like a tidal force.

She was the most fragile thing he'd ever seen. And the most stunning.

He could snap her in a breath—yet he wanted to worship her with every inch of his being. He had taken galaxies. Ended lives with a thought.

But this one woman?—

This tiny, lost thing?—

She had undone him with her gaze.

And in this moment, she was not pulling away.

She was not trembling in fear.

She was still.

Open.

Willing.

He stepped closer, letting his hand rise slowly—slow enough that even a being of her inferior reflexes could stop him if she chose.

She didn’t.

His fingers brushed her cheek.

"You do not understand yet what it means," he said quietly, voice thick with heat, "for a Marak to be unmasked in another's presence."

Her pupils dilated. Her breath hitched.

He could take her. Now. Here. And she would yield.

But not yet. Not in haste.

She deserved more than force.

She deserved to want it.

And he would make sure she did.

Every part of her.

He would not take. He would seduce.

And she would never wish for Earth again.