Page 33 of Bound to the Marak

He was masked again. Armored. Regal. Unreachable.

The version of him who had shown her his face—his strange beauty, his quiet hunger—was gone now. This was the Marak. The lord of this world. Clad in a robe of black and silver, threaded with faintly glowing sigils. Silver chains and plates adorned his chest and shoulders, clinking softly with every fluid movement. His tentacles coiled and shifted beneath the hem of his robes, alive and watchful. One of them brushed the metal beside her foot, and she tensed, heart fluttering.

They descended onto a vast platform that floated above the ocean, a massive disc of gleaming white metal with no visible supports. It simply hovered, suspended in the night air, humming gently like a living thing. When she looked down, the sea was a dark, churning mass far below, reflecting the moons in broken fragments.

But it was the city beyond that stole her breath.

Isora.

It rose from the dark waters like a vision—towers of spiraling glass and metal, alive with light. Bridges arced between them like webs spun from starlight. Skyways curved through the air, connecting buildings that shimmered with pale fire. It looked like something built by gods, not beings of flesh and blood.

She couldn’t look away.

Then, she saw them.

The Yerak.

Lined along the far edge of the platform—hundreds of them—standing in perfect formation. Clad in shades of deep blue and silver, the colors of Karian’s house. Their hair black, their skin pale and luminous, their black eyes unreadable. They stood motionless until Karian stepped forward.

And then they knelt.

Every single one of them. Without hesitation. Knees to the ground. Heads bowed. No eye contact. No movement. It was a silence so total it felt like the world had held its breath.

Leonie swallowed hard. A chill skittered down her spine.

This wasn’t mere respect.

It was reverence.

They treated him like a god.

Karian said nothing. Gave no acknowledgment. He simply walked, and they stayed bowed, as though he were a force of nature passing through—a storm, a star, a myth.

And she was walking beside him.

Her hands curled at her sides. Her steps faltered. She couldn’t make sense of it—the man who had murmured her name like a prayer... wasthis. A being worshipped by an entire people. Feared. Obeyed. Her knees wanted to buckle. Her brain screamed at her to run.

But she kept walking.

Because he had shown her his face.

Because he had let her see the man beneath the god.

And she didn’t know what terrified her more—that he had power over millions… or that he might already have power overher.

They reached the edge of the platform, where a sleek craft awaited them—hovering, silent. Smooth as glass, sharp as a blade. It looked like it could slice the sky apart. A ramp extended without a sound.

Karian gestured for her to enter.

She hesitated, just for a heartbeat.

Then she stepped inside.

The interior was stunning. Pale metal that wasn’t quite metal. Soft curves. Glowing blue lights that pulsed like distant stars. The seat molded beneath her like it had been made for her body. She sank into it, stunned by the quiet comfort of it all.

He followed. Sat beside her.

Close.

---