Page 50 of Bound to the Marak

“I never intended to make you feel imprisoned.”

She looked down, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t even know if I’m angry at you… or just at everything. I didn’t choose this. But I’m trying to live it.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then he extended his hand. Not to command, but to offer.

“Will you come tonight?” he asked, softer now. “You don’t have to. Not if you do not wish it.”

And that… surprised her.

She looked at his hand, then into his eyes. For the first time, she saw a flicker of vulnerability there. Not much. But enough.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Not tonight. I think I need… time.”

He held her gaze for a long moment. Then nodded once and stepped back.

“As you wish,Leonie.”

He said her name like it was sacred. And then he was gone, the door sliding shut behind him with a hiss.

Leonie exhaled shakily. She sat down on the edge of her bed, hands in her lap.

She didn’t know what she wanted. But for the first time, she felt like maybe—just maybe—he was listening.

And that made all the difference.

Thirty-Four

She sat in the center of the chamber, surrounded by silks that shimmered like water, staring at nothing.

The room was beautiful. Everything was beautiful here. The furniture was sculpted from strange metals that glowed faintly, the walls breathed with slow pulses of color, and from the wide, crystalline windows, she could see the sky of Luxar darkening into an impossible cascade of violet and indigo. Twin moons hovered overhead, casting ethereal light into her quarters.

But it felt hollow.

The grandeur pressed down on her like a weight, suffocating in its perfection. She lay there, motionless, letting her resentment curdle in her stomach like spoiled wine. She wanted to want this. She wanted to wanthim. But tonight, something inside her cracked.

And still, she went to him.

Because he had offered her a choice. And if she said nothing, if she didn’t take the chance to speak—then she was choosing silence. She refused that.

She left her chamber.

The polished corridors glistened under soft light, windows giving way to the glittering cities of Luxar far below—cities she’d never walked in, filled with people she’d never met. The Yerak moved silently through the halls, never looking at her directly. Always bowing. Always distant.

She was Karian’s… what? His concubine? His pet? His possession?

And all this time, she hadn’t stepped beyond the floating palace that shimmered above it all like a mirage.

He had told her it was too dangerous. That other Marak had enemies, that she could be used against him. She believed him. But it didn’t make her feel less caged.

She reached the entrance of the Inner Sanctum and paused for a breath. Her heart beat harder than she expected.

Inside, Karian stood in the antechamber, motionless, unmasked. His black eyes fixed on her. He was a statue brought to life, exquisite and unreadable, and gods help her, he was still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

He tilted his head, a small shift, but his gaze never left hers. “You came.”

“Yes,” she said.

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