Page 44

Forty-Four

E arth.

Her home.

It hung just beyond the ship’s viewing dome, a luminous blue sphere marbled with white. So familiar, so achingly beautiful it made her throat tighten. Leonie stood silently at the edge of the Marak’s private deck, unable to look away. There it was— her planet. The one she thought she’d never see again. Her fingers curled slightly against the cool railing, her heart thudding loud in her chest.

Behind her, Karian approached with his usual silent grace. His presence pressed against her back before she even felt his touch—a low hum in the air, the distinct shift of space around him.

“I told you I would bring you back,” he said, his voice low, deep, utterly calm. “And I have.”

She turned to him slowly, her gaze drifting up his tall, alien frame. His skin shimmered with an internal glow, the black markings of his power visible now that he was unmasked and fully himself.

“You’re not going to look like that down there, right?” she asked, half-teasing, half-nervous.

“I’m many things, little human,” Karian replied, raising a hand. “But I am not careless.”

A flicker of silver light passed over his body as he activated a small device at his belt. In a blink, his inhuman features dulled. His eyes turned to a dark, penetrating brown. His skin lightened just enough to pass. The markings faded beneath the illusion. His tentacles retracted fully—somewhere, folded into his form, hidden by advanced tech she still didn’t understand.

In his place stood a striking, tall man with an intense, otherworldly presence that no human would quite be able to place. Not unless they looked too closely.

He tilted his head. “Acceptable?”

Leonie blinked, taking in his new image. “You look… hot,” she said honestly, then bit her lip. “A little dangerous. Still definitely not from around here.”

A glint of amusement flickered across his features. “That will serve us well.”

He extended his hand. She took it.

As they began walking toward the ship’s descent bay, Karian's grip on her hand tightened, just slightly. Protective. Possessive.

“I hope you’re not planning to let me go off on my own,” she said, already knowing the answer.

“Never,” he said. “You are the Marak’s now. That makes you a target. Even here. Perhaps especially here.”

She frowned. “Why especially?”

“This planet is largely unguarded. Chaotic. The Dukkar could be watching, even now. And others, who would harm me by harming you.” His voice hardened. “You will not leave my side. Not until Alfie is found.”

A thrill of fear passed through her, tempered only by his calm authority. There was no arguing with Karian when he was in this mode—cold, calculated, but laced with something else. Something... personal .

Still, as they reached the final chamber before descent, a question burned on her tongue. She stopped walking.

“Karian?”

He paused beside her, his illusion-glamoured face unreadable.

“I need to know something. Before we land.”

He waited.

She drew a breath. “What am I to you, exactly? Your concubine? A pet? A plaything?” Her tone didn’t hold accusation, only curiosity—and maybe a hint of fear.

His jaw tensed. He looked away for a moment, as if trying to gather words from a language that didn’t quite suit them.

Then, quietly, he said, “A Marak does not take a companion. He takes soldiers. Advisors. Generals. Occasionally, pleasure slaves.” His gaze returned to hers. “But never... a mate.”

Leonie’s breath caught.

His voice lowered further, almost reverent. “What you are to me, little human, is something new. Something unspoken in our traditions. Something I am still discovering.”

They stood in silence. Earth spun slowly in the viewing glass. Somewhere down there, her old life waited—her neighborhood, the smells of city streets, the dog who had once curled beside her on the couch.

And yet… Karian was holding her hand like he would never let go.

Something new.

Her heart ached with the weight of it.

“I guess we’ll find out what I am,” she said softly. “Together.”

His fingers curled more tightly around hers.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Together.”