“Yes.” She nodded, still fighting to read him. She studied the mask—the smooth silver surface revealing nothing—and the elegant stillness of his upper body. His posture offered no hints,no subtle shifts of expression or intent. The tentacles beneath him remained perfectly coiled, neither tense nor relaxed, as unreadable as the rest of him.
She realized then how impossible it was to gauge him.
How completely she stood in front of something beyond her understanding.
And how little power she had in this moment—standing before a being who felt capable of reshaping her entire world with a single word.
“You are here because you are willing,” he continued.
The words struck her with such force that it took a moment to process them. Her awe—her trembling, instinctive deference—fractured under a sharp wave of shock.
“Willing?” Her voice cracked around the word. “What do you mean? I—I don’t understand. I didn’t want to be taken anywhere.”
Her breath hitched, her pulse rising as confusion rolled through her in uneven waves.How could he think she wanted this?She tightened her fingers around her own palms, grounding herself against the swell of disbelief.
The Marak did not shift, did not move in any visible way, but his presence seemed to deepen.
“You said it yourself,” he rumbled. “That you would prefer to be abducted rather than continue in your current situation.”
Morgan’s heart lurched.
For a second, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She felt herself go still, her thoughts scattering completely.
He heard that? How could he know that?
She had spoken the words in frustration, in a moment of despair, never imagining—never believing, even in the wildest corners of her mind—that anything could have been listening.
Her mouth opened, but no explanation or argument came. The room felt too large, the air too thin, and the being in frontof her too overwhelming for her mind to assemble a coherent response.
Because the impossible was now undeniable.
Heknew. She had no idea how.
“I didn’t mean it literally,” Morgan said at last. Her voice came out softer than she intended, almost subdued, as though she were making a confession rather than an objection. “Sometimes people say things they don’t mean.”
The Marak regarded her in silence. With the mask hiding his face, she could not tell if he was studying her, evaluating her, or simply waiting for her to continue. The absence of any visible reaction made the moment stretch uncomfortably.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Humans often fail to speak their true minds.”
The statement held no blame; it was just an observation. Morgan felt exposed, as though he were reaching into the private, unspoken corners of her life without effort.
“Tell me this, Morgan Halden of Earth.” His voice filled the chamber, deep and resonant. “Would you readily return to your fate on Earth?”
The question hit her like a sudden blow. She inhaled sharply, but the breath lodged in her chest instead of reaching her lungs. For a moment she couldn’t look at him. Her gaze dropped to the smooth floor between them, and her fingers curled instinctively at her sides as if she could grasp something solid in the air.
She hesitated.
And that pause—just a heartbeat, just a moment—was enough.
Heat rose in her cheeks. The reality of the situation crashed over her again, dizzying in its sheer impossibility.I can’t believe this conversation is happening. I can’t believe any of this is real.
“That isn’t a fair question,” she said quietly, forcing her voice to steady even as it threatened to slip. “You haven’t offered me an alternative.”
She lifted her eyes to the silver mask, trying to find any trace of expression, anything to anchor her understanding of him. But the mask remained smooth and unreadable, capturing the light without giving anything back.
She had never felt so entirely in the hands of someone she could not decipher.
The Marak leaned forward, the movement slight but unmistakably deliberate. Soft, bioluminescent light gathered around him as though drawn to his form, creating a halo that only emphasized the shadowed force radiating from his presence. Something dark, ancient, and potent settled in the air, brushing over her skin like an unseen hand.
