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Thirty-Nine

L eonie woke to soft, golden light spilling through the translucent shell of her bedroom dome. The shimmering towers of Luxar glinted in the morning haze beyond the windows, casting long shadows over the cloud-covered planet below. It was quiet—eerily so.

Today. They were going to Earth.

She sat up slowly, brushing strands of hair from her face. Her heart fluttered with disbelief. She had asked Karian for something impossible—and he’d said yes. He would take her back. Not forever. But long enough to find Alfie.

She stood, legs still bare from the night, silk nightdress clinging to her hips. A warm bath, she thought. Maybe breakfast. Something light before departure. She padded toward the basin.

But then—movement.

From the corner of her eye.

She turned.

Nuak.

The head servant stood at the edge of the chamber, still and silent as ever—except her usual placid expression was gone. Her eyes were too wide. Fixed. Unblinking. Her lips were parted slightly, her breath harsh.

And in her hand…

A dagger. Long, glinting, black as volcanic glass.

“Nuak?” Leonie barely got the name out.

Nuak didn’t answer.

She lunged.

Leonie’s instincts kicked in. She dropped backward, rolling off the bed just as the dagger pierced the pillows where her chest had been. A scream ripped from her throat as she hit the floor, scrambled back—bare feet slipping on the smooth tile.

Nuak turned, fast. Too fast.

She came at her again.

Leonie kicked out, wild and desperate. Her foot connected with Nuak’s torso—hard. The servant stumbled back with a grunt, crashing into the low table. Glass shattered.

Leonie bolted to her feet, heart pounding, body trembling with adrenaline. She had no weapon. No shield. She backed away toward the open arch of the hallway.

But Nuak recovered.

“I will not allow the Marak to fall,” the servant hissed suddenly, her voice trembling, cracking with emotion. “He is unmade by you. You will bring ruin to Luxar.”

“W-What are you talking about?!”

But there was no answer.

Nuak lunged again.

And then?—

A thunderous sound cracked through the chamber. A wave of pressure like an invisible storm ripped through the air.

Nuak froze mid-strike, the dagger suspended inches from Leonie’s face.

Karian.

He stood in the entrance, larger than life, tentacles already extended, his eyes glowing like obsidian stars. His aura was molten with fury—so intense it made the walls hum.

One motion of his hand—and Nuak’s body jerked violently backward, pinned against the far wall. The dagger clattered to the floor.

She choked on her breath, stunned.

Leonie collapsed to her knees, gasping.

Karian crossed the room in three strides, crouching beside her, his arms and limbs encircling her protectively. His voice was low, ragged.

“She will not touch you again.”

“What—what just happened?” she managed. “Why would she?—”

“She is not Yerak anymore,” he said. “She was compromised.”

His voice broke slightly. “One of the Marak… must have gotten to her.”

Leonie shivered in his embrace. Her trip to Earth had just become far more dangerous than she ever expected.