Page 24 of Bound to the Marak

Leonie’s breath caught. The chair had gone unnoticed before—minimalist, almost elegant, with curved metal and padded supports. But now, as the order echoed through the room, it looked ominous.

She narrowed her eyes. “You keep calling me ‘human.’ I have a name. Leonie.”

The servant didn’t flinch. His face didn’t move. He neither acknowledged nor refuted her.

She stood taller, voice sharper than she intended. “I said—my name isLeonie.”

Still nothing.

A flicker of unease curled at the edges of her chest.

“Do you even have a name?” she asked bitterly, her tone defensive, but her palms were already damp.

Then the voice returned—calm, smooth, and matter-of-fact.

“The translator node will assist us from now on,” it said. “It was designed many millennia ago to allow communication between the Majarin and the peoples under their dominion.”

He held the silver object up slightly, allowing her a closer look. It pulsed faintly in his palm, as though breathing.

“It cloaks my voice in your language,” the servant explained, “and cloaks yours inours. The Marak will hear you in his tongue. As you will hear him in yours.”

Not just a translation, then. A complete veil. A bridge between two species—one Leonie hadn’t even known existed a week ago.

“You will use it to understand us,” the servant continued. “And to speak with the Marak.”

The Marak.That’s all they ever called him. Never Karian. Never a name.

Leonie’s gaze flicked to the chair.

“Why do I need to sit there?”

The servant stepped to the side and touched a hidden panel on the armrest. There was a soft click—then smooth restraints slid free, like petals unfolding. Wristbands. Ankle clasps. A broad support across the chest.

They weren’t threatening.

But they werefinal.

Her pulse spiked. “Wait—what is that? What are you doing?”

“For your safety,” came the translation again. “The descent will be unstable.”

Descent.

She went cold.

“You mean we’relanding? Where? Why didn’t Karian?—”

The servant drew in a sharp breath through his nose.

He looked directly at her for the first time.

Not with hostility.

But with somethingclose. Offended. Stiff. Like she had committed a blasphemy without knowing.

He said nothing.

But his movements changed.

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