Page 34

Thirty-Four

S he sat in the center of the chamber, surrounded by silks that shimmered like water, staring at nothing.

The room was beautiful. Everything was beautiful here. The furniture was sculpted from strange metals that glowed faintly, the walls breathed with slow pulses of color, and from the wide, crystalline windows, she could see the sky of Luxar darkening into an impossible cascade of violet and indigo. Twin moons hovered overhead, casting ethereal light into her quarters.

But it felt hollow.

The grandeur pressed down on her like a weight, suffocating in its perfection. She lay there, motionless, letting her resentment curdle in her stomach like spoiled wine. She wanted to want this. She wanted to want him . But tonight, something inside her cracked.

And still, she went to him.

Because he had offered her a choice. And if she said nothing, if she didn’t take the chance to speak—then she was choosing silence. She refused that.

She left her chamber.

The polished corridors glistened under soft light, windows giving way to the glittering cities of Luxar far below—cities she’d never walked in, filled with people she’d never met. The Yerak moved silently through the halls, never looking at her directly. Always bowing. Always distant.

She was Karian’s… what? His concubine? His pet? His possession?

And all this time, she hadn’t stepped beyond the floating palace that shimmered above it all like a mirage.

He had told her it was too dangerous. That other Marak had enemies, that she could be used against him. She believed him. But it didn’t make her feel less caged.

She reached the entrance of the Inner Sanctum and paused for a breath. Her heart beat harder than she expected.

Inside, Karian stood in the antechamber, motionless, unmasked. His black eyes fixed on her. He was a statue brought to life, exquisite and unreadable, and gods help her, he was still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

He tilted his head, a small shift, but his gaze never left hers. “You came.”

“Yes,” she said.

Silence stretched between them like drawn wire.

“Before,” he said, “when I first brought you here, I asked you what you needed to be happy. You never answered me.”

“I didn’t know what to say,” Leonie replied. “I still don’t.”

He said nothing.

“But there’s one thing I do know I need.”

His jaw tightened.

“Tell me. I will do anything for you.”

She hesitated—then stepped forward, spine straight, voice steady. “When I was abducted from Earth—by the green aliens?—”

“The Dukkar,” he interrupted, his voice sharp, his eyes narrowing.

She nodded. “They took me without permission. Hurt me. Threw me into a cage. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I left behind my whole life. My world. And… my dog. His name is Alfie.”

His expression changed. For a moment, the facade cracked, and she saw something raw behind it. Rage. Pain.

“I didn’t know,” he said, voice low and dangerous.

“I didn’t think you did.”

The glow of the Inner Sanctum’s walls cast blue shadows across his face. The glowing markings on his skin, usually dim, flickered faintly with emotion.

“Where is he now?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But if there’s any chance… if there’s any way… I want him back.”

Karian’s eyes burned. “The Dukkar will answer for what they did to you. That I promise.”

“I don’t want revenge,” Leonie said. “I want Alfie .”

He stepped toward her, towering, cloaked in power. And yet, when he reached her, he knelt—lowering his head in a gesture she didn’t understand.

“I will find him,” Karian said. “Your Alfie. I swear it by the blood of my kind.”

Leonie swallowed hard. The heat in her chest curled with something else now—something soft. Something dangerous.

Hope.