Page 26 of Bound to the Marak

Her heart beat hard in her chest. The room was too quiet. Too still.

And then… the ship began to move.

It started as a subtle vibration in the floor beneath her feet. Just a hum. But it deepened almost immediately—intensifying, resonating through the frame of the chair, through the bones in her spine. The lights overhead flickered, and the temperature dropped slightly. Something was building.

A thrumming pulse filled the air, low and rhythmic, like the ship itself had a heartbeat.

Leonie’s eyes widened. She strained against the restraints instinctively, trying to sit forward—but she couldn’t move an inch. The pressure against her chest, her limbs—it was unyielding.

Then came the firstboom.

It was distant, muffled, but deep. Like thunder striking underwater. The room shuddered in response.

She gasped. “What the hell is going on?!”

No one answered. Of course.

Another shockwave struck—closer this time—and the lights dimmed almost to nothing. She was trapped in a cold metal chair in the dark, alone on a ship in the middle of God-knew-where, and now it sounded like the ship was underattack.

A jolt snapped through the chamber. Not just a tremor this time, but an impact. Something hadhitthe vessel. Hard.

The walls shivered. The air thickened. Alarms didn’t blare—but perhaps that was worse. The silence implied that either the systems were too advanced for such primitive things… or they didn’t bother alerting thecargo.

Her heart pounded. She began to sweat.

What if this is it? What if I die here?

She imagined the ship torn open, her body ejected into the void. Cold. Silent. Forgotten. No Alfie. No Earth. No chance.

Her mouth was dry as she whispered, “Please don’t let this be how I die.”

And then… the vibrations began to slow.

The hum softened. The booms ceased. The lights returned, gradually, casting an eerie, sterile glow across the ceiling. The pressure in the room lifted slightly.

It was over.

But the stillness that followed wasworse.

She sat perfectly still, limbs aching from tension, breath shallow, waiting.

And waiting.

Time passed in long, agonizing minutes. Her thoughts spiraled—toward home, toward the surgical ward, toward the cup of tea she never got to finish. She thought of Karian.He should have told me. He should have warned me. He left me here.

Then—

The door opened.

Bright light flooded the chamber.

And there he was.

Karian.

But this was not the Karian who had touched her hair, who had spoken in soft tones through a translator. Not the being who had shown strange patience and restraint.

This Karian radiated something far colder.Violence.Power.

---