#angst with plot

Maybe in another life, another dimension, you would have met him in different circumstances. He would have swooned you and you would have loved him instantly. He would have been charming and would have smiled at you in a way that made you melt. 

You stepped into the small living space. The early sun started to rise over the horizon. A mix of orange and purples casting a warm glow across the room. The scent of food caught your attention first. You turned to the small table. Trays of food sat on the table. Fruit, coffee, breads, meats, eggs. A small smile tugged at your lips. 

He was sweet. 

You turned back to the window admiring the view, you had only been up this early a handful of times. This planet held so much beauty. At first it was all foreign, unnatural, but now it was comforting. 

“You’re up.” 

You jumped, a hand flying to your chest to calm your racing heart. You turned towards the voice. 

Mark lounged on the couch, pillows under his head. He braced himself against his forearm. He was shirtless. His bruises looked worse in the light. Deep shades of purple and green blotting over his skin. His hair was tousled, his eyes soft. 

Your gaze betrayed you, slipping down the broad planes of his chest down to a small patch of hair that ended at his waist band. His jaw was tense, like he was trying to ground himself. His muscles flexed under your gaze. He was so similar to something that used to be familiar to you, and yet he was so different. This Mark was a true weapon, crafted and honed into an emotionless killer. Something to be feared. The boyish nature of what you knew in your past was now replaced with brute strength and brutality. 

“Do you like the view?” 

Your cheeks burned, heat flooding your face. You caught his gaze, his brown eyes dark. 

You stammered, tearing your eyes again from him. “I-” 

Mark’s lips pulled into a smirk, his eyes playful. “The sunrise, I mean. They’re always beautiful here in the summer.” 

You tried to regain your composure. “Right. Yeah, it’s…breathtaking.” 

He smiled at you, pleased with your answer. Your face heated. How embarrassing. 

You cleared your throat, your eyes flickering to the breakfast table. “Did you…do this?” you asked, a small smile tugging at your lips. 

Mark stood from the couch, a groan leaving his lips. It was raw and it came deep from his chest. The pained sound oddly sent a wave of warmth through you. He smiled at you shyly as he nodded. “I thought it might be nice to have breakfast here this morning. Just us.” 

The admission disarmed you. He came to stand near you, the heat of his body seeping into you. “Thank you”, you said softly, and you meant it. 

Mark tilted his head, his eyes soft, a small smile on his lips. “You’re welcome.” 

You reached out, your finger tips grazing his bruised ribs. “How are you?” Your voice held concern. 

Mark stared down at you, grabbing your hand, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I’ll heal. I don’t break so easily.” 

You smirked at him. A playful glint sparking in your eyes. “We’ll see about that Commander. Seris has been training me while you were gone.” 

He smiled at you. He stepped closer, shortening the distance between you. “You’re happy to try and take me out.” 

The air shifted between you. You stayed where you were, fingertips grazing against his ribs. The warmth of his skin sent an electric buzz throughout your body. His thumb grazed your hand, threatening to pull you closer. 

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. The soft morning glow of the light caught his eyes, engulfing them in a golden brown. He was gorgeous. Even in his bruised and broken state, he still radiated power. Despite the bruises, he was still an Emperor. Strong and unyielding and yours…if you wanted it. 

You stared at him through your lashes, “Maybe I will.” 

The air thickened between you. The corner of his mouth twitched, a smile forming on his lips. He wasn’t touching you anywhere but your hand, but it felt like he was everywhere. He shifted closer to you and your palm flattened against his chest. Your eyes betrayed you, slipping down the line of his throat, to the sharpness of his collar bone, and down to the muscles flexing on his torso. 

Your eyes flickered back up to his. He reached for your free hand, lacing his fingers with yours. He tugged you towards him, his chest hard against your body. Your mind drifted to how it felt to be under him on the mat a few weeks ago. The heat and the weight of his body, how you ached to have him close like this again. 

Your thighs pressed together. Mark tilted your head up, his fingers under your chin. His eyes were dark when they met yours. “How much longer do you want to play this game?” 

His question caught you off guard. Every nerve lit on fire in your body. His forehead grazed yours, his mouth so close that you could taste him. 

You swallowed hard. Heat coiling low in your stomach. 

Stop. Stop wanting him. You were emotional, upset, now wasn’t the time to be feeling this way. But he was looking at you in that way that made every cell in your body set on fire. It was wrong. It wasn’t right to be feeling this way. But if it was wrong, why did it feel this way? Why did it feel right? 

The truth was, there was nothing for you back in your dimension. This was your home now. Mark could be yours now. You didn’t have to feel guilty about it anymore. 

You swallowed hard, your lips parting. Your eyes held the same intensity of his. “What if I don’t want to play anymore?” It was just a hush of a whisper, but he heard it. 

Mark stilled. His jaw flexed and his nostrils flared. His grip tightened against your palm. 

You wanted him. God, you wanted him so bad. And the worst part, the most terrifying part, was that there was no resistance in your brain anymore. You knew somewhere deep down that in the time that you had been here, you had fallen for him. That it was the truth. 

Mark leaned away from you. Your heart leaped in your chest, before sinking down to your stomach. Did you say something wrong? 

“Y/N,” he said your name with so much reverence. “I want things to be clear about what it means if you stay here.” 

You nodded, listening to his words. 

Mark let go of both of your hands and reached up and cupped your cheeks, “If you stay,” his voice cracked slightly, nerves creeping through him. “If you stay, you will be the Empress of this Empire. You will attend court meetings, change laws. Many things will be expected of you. There will be no chance to return to your world. You will become a Viltrumite. You will be one of us.” 

It was the truth. He was telling you the truth, giving you a way out before you made a commitment to his Empire. 

His thumb stroked your cheeks, his eyes boring through you. “You will have responsibilities that you will have to carry, but I promise that you won’t carry them alone.” His voice was soft. “I promise that I will always be by your side to support you. I promise that I will always treat you as an equal.” 

You leaned into his hand, “You mean it?” Your throat tightened. His words were heavy. 

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I lost you once,” he said, his voice soft and tender. “I’ll never make the mistake of treating you like anything less than everything. You are everything to me. You are my sun. You are everything I orbit. Everything I burn for. You're the one that pulls me back when I am lost.” 

Your world tilted. You could feel his warmth against you, his heartbeat hammering under his skin. 

His voice cracked again, “But if you decide to leave-” 

“No,” you whispered. 

“No,” he echoed, a sliver of hope holding onto the words. 

“There’s nothing left for me there,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “I thought,” you paused. “I thought that there was. I thought that someone, that he, was looking for me. But he isn’t. And now…” 

“Now what?” Mark whispered, bracing himself for your words. 

“Now,” You breathed, trying to hold your composure. “Now I am consumed by you, and I am falling for you. Despite everything, I miss you when you are not around. Despite how wrong it feels at times and how much it terrifies me, I fell for you. Slow at first, and then all at once.” You took a breath, trying to stop the tears from falling. Your emotions overwhelming you. “I don’t know how, but it happened. And now I feel like I can't breathe without you, and that terrifies me.” 

Mark tensed, his hand slipping down your cheek to brush against your lower lip. The sunrise spilled molten gold and rose around you both, bathing you in its glow. 

You breathed, bracing your hands against his broad shoulders, steading yourself. “I choose you.” 

It was just a hush of a whisper, but Mark heard it. 

Mark leaned into you. Your eyes closed, tilting your head up. Mark’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. You leaned  into him, his breath fanning your face. He closed the last sliver of space between you, his mouth pressed against yours. 

The kiss was searing, hungry, raw. Mark’s hand held your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. His other hand found your hip, fingers digging in just enough to pull you flush against the solid heat of his chest. He kissed you like a man who’d been starved for air and had finally found oxygen. He kissed you like it was going to be your last. Like you could change your mind at any moment. 

You gasped against his mouth. Mark swallowed the sound, his tongue sliding over yours, deepening the kiss. The taste of him sent a low ache curling through you. You pressed into him, wanting him closer. He hissed when your palm pressed against his ribs. He shivered at your touch. Heat pooled low in your belly, sharp and consuming. This wasn’t gentle. It was raw, desperate, real. Your hands roamed over the broad planes of muscles sliding up his chest, gripping his shoulders. The hard lines of his muscle flexing under your fingers, anchoring you. 

Mark pushed you back until your hips bumped the breakfast table. With a single sweep of his arm, he sent the trays clattering to the floor, cups shattering, fruit rolling. He didn’t care. He hoisted you up, your breath catching as the edge of the table dug into your thighs, his hips pressing between your knees.

You moaned at the feeling of him caging you in, your hand flying to his hair. Your fingers threaded through the dark strands at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly. He hooked one of your legs up on his torso, the movement opening you to him. His fingertips grazed the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

For a heartbeat, there was no council, no past Mark, no Eve. There was only him.

Your hand slid down his chest, trailing over the ridges of his stomach. His muscles flexed under your touch, taut and warm. Your fingertips dipped lower, skimming the edge of his waistband. His hand caught yours, stopping you.

He pulled away, his breaths ragged. You chased him. “Why did you stop me?” you whispered, your voice soft. 

“Because,” he breathed, holding you by the wrist. His eyes were molten, and his voice was low and rough. “I intend to worship every inch of you before I even let you lay a hand on me.” 

White hot heat flooded your veins. Your breath hitched as he pinned your hand next to you, holding it steady. His forehead dropped to yours, eyes half-lidded. “I want to take my time with you.” 

Mark’s lips devoured yours again, rougher this time, as if the very act of kissing you might undo him. His hand stayed firm at your wrist, pinning it to the table, while the other traced fire up your thigh. Your leg hooked around his waist, drawing him in until there was nothing left between you but heat and want.

The kiss deepened, tongues clashing, a low growl escaping from Mark’s throat. You pulled at his hair, tugging him closer, your chest pressed flush to his. His hips pressed forward, grinding into you just enough to make your head spin. The weight of him, the heat of him, everything, it was intoxicating.

You gasped into his mouth, your body arching. Mark broke away only to trail his lips down the line of your jaw, hot kisses searing a path to your neck. Your head fell back, a shuddering breath leaving you as his teeth grazed your pulse point.

“Mark…” you whispered, breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He froze for half a second at the sound of his name falling from your lips like that, raw, desperate, but then he surged back up, capturing your mouth again, swallowing the sound, owning it. His free hand slipped higher, skimming dangerously close to where you ached for him most. 

Oh my god. Yes. 

The world had narrowed to the heat of his body, the press of his lips, the promise of what was about to come. His fingers trailed up your inner thigh, sliding under the loose thin fabric of your shorts. You panted against his lips. The heat of his fingertips setting you on fire. 

You moaned softly, tilting your head back. Mark fingers grazed the edge of your underwear. You gasped tugging him closer. Mark’s frame trembled above yours, restraint pulling all of his muscles tight. 

A sharp knock on the door caused Mark to tense and pull away from you. 

You pulled away from him, breathless, lips swollen, your chest heaving against his. His forehead dropped to yours, his breath ragged, and his eyes dark and his pupils blown wide. 

The knock sounded again. Irritation flashed in his eyes. Mark reluctantly pulled himself away from you, heading from the door. The heat of his body leaving you cold. He punched in his key and the door opened revealing a short man in a light grey uniform. 

“Commander,” he greeted. 

Mark tilted his head in acknowledgement. 

“The council requires your presence.” he said, his voice clipped. He was just a messenger. 

“Tell them we’ll start in an hour.” Mark said, his voice sharp and commanding. 

The messenger’s voice still echoed off the walls when the door hissed shut, sealing you and Mark back into the quiet. The footsteps faded down the corridor, leaving only the sound of your breathing and the steady hum of the palace’s systems.

Mark’s gaze stayed fixed on the door for a heartbeat longer before swinging back to you. 

“It’s Seris, isn’t it?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Mark nodded, “Her trial is today. She’ll be tried for treason.” His voice cracked at the word treason. “The council will decide if she’s guilty… and they’ll execute her if they do.”

You stepped back, your chest rising and falling sharply. “No,” you whispered. “That’s not fair.”

His jaw flexed, his tone sharpening like a blade. “The council doesn’t judge on fairness. They judge on strength, obedience, and how someone serves the Empire best.” Even saying it seemed to weigh on him.

Your pulse thundered in your ears. Seris, loyal, steady Seris. would be standing in a room of predators with no mercy, no softness. “I’m coming with you,” you said, the words spilling out like a vow.

“No.” His answer was immediate, firm, the Emperor in him snapping to the surface.

“Yes.” Your voice didn’t waver. “I need to be there for her. I owe her that. She protected me while you were gone. She risked everything for me.” The lump in your throat burned, tears threatening to spill over. “If they want to call it treason, then I’ll stand beside her and share the blame.”

Mark opened his mouth, his eyes dark with protest, but you cut him off before he could speak.

“I am the Empress of this Empire now.” The title landed cold and heavy between you, but you didn’t take it back. “And if I can’t stand beside you, beside her, then I don’t deserve it.”

For a long moment, Mark only stared at you. His jaw was tight, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as if he were holding himself together. Then, slowly, the storm in his eyes softened. He reached for you. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, a small and intimate gesture amid the tension.

“The council will see you as defiant of our ways,” he said quietly.

“Then let them see,” you shot back, sharp and sure. “I won’t condemn my friend to death.”

Silence stretched, taut and electric. Finally, Mark exhaled, sharp and resigned, but there was pride in the way his gaze lingered on yours, like he was seeing you anew. “Fine,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’ll be back in an hour to get you.” He paused, his thumb still tracing your skin, something unspoken heavy in his eyes. “And I’ll send something for you to wear. It’s the first time the council will truly see you. We need to make a good impression.”

Your chest tightened. Underneath his command, you could hear it, the crack of fear in his voice. Fear of losing you, fear of what this would cost.

Mark leaned forward, brushing a kiss against your forehead, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. The warmth of it stayed even as he stepped back toward the door.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The hour passed in a blur. You didn’t even notice when a woman entered the room. She was a slender, older woman, with a gown draped carefully over her arms. She didn’t speak much, only offered short instructions as she helped you dress. The fabric was heavy, cool against your skin, layers of grey and silver shimmered faintly in the low light. Intricate embroidery ran along the bodice and down the sleeves. Your hair was braided tight and woven into a regal crown on top of your head. 

The gown didn’t feel like clothing. It felt like armor.

When she finally stepped back, her hands clasped, she gave a single, satisfied nod, bowed and left the room. You turned to the mirror in your closet, you barely recognized yourself. You looked like an Empress. A blade disguised as beauty.

You weren’t playing pretend anymore, this was real. You were the Empress of this Empire now. 

The door hissed open behind you.

Mark stood there, his presence filling the room immediately. He was dressed in his full regalia, the dark uniform tailored to his body, the fabric stretching across his broad shoulders. He looked every bit the Emperor now. He looked cold, cruel, and dangerous. But when his eyes found you, the steel cracked.

For a moment, he only stared. His jaw flexed once, his throat bobbed, but he didn’t speak. Not until he crossed the room. 

“You look…” His voice trailed off, softer than you’d expected. His eyes lingered on your face, your frame, the fabric that clung to your body “…beautiful.”

Your lips curved in the faintest smile. “Thank you.”

He didn’t give you time to say more. His hand found yours, his grip firm, grounding. He tugged you toward the door, his stride long and sure.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice pitched low, only for you.

You swallowed, your fingers curling tighter into his. “I’m nervous.”

He nodded once, not dismissing the truth of it. “Good. It means you understand the weight of what’s coming.” His eyes flicked down to yours, steady and sharp. “But you don’t face it alone. I’ll be at your side the entire time.”

The way he said it wasn’t just reassurance, it was a vow.

And as the door slid shut behind you both, the echo of his promise settled in your bones like armor of its own.

The corridors seemed longer than usual. Each step echoed against the stone walls, the sound sharp in your ears. Mark’s hand rested firm at the small of your back, guiding you through the winding hallways with measured precision. 

Whispers followed you everywhere. Advisors, soldiers, attendants, eyes tracked your every move, wide with shock, sharp with suspicion. The Empress was not supposed to be here, walking into a trial that reeked of treason. And yet, here you were, chin high, refusing to falter.

Mark’s stride never wavered. He didn’t look at them, didn’t acknowledge the murmurs. He was a wall, unshakable and immovable, and the only thing grounding you as your heart thundered in your ribs. The only thing standing between you and the whispers that followed you through the corridors. 

The heavy doors to the council chamber loomed ahead, steel towering over you. They opened with a low groan, the sound echoing like thunder through the tense silence inside.

Every council member stood as you entered. The room itself was massive, large windows filtering in the mid-morning light.The tension was thick, suffocating, as eyes shifted from Mark to you, whispers flooding the chamber like a rising tide.

Mark’s hand pressed firm at your back, steadying you as he led you forward to the dais where two high-backed chairs awaited. You sat together, side by side, his presence wrapping around you like armor.

Your heart hammered in your chest. Everyone was watching you. Whispers from the council members flooded the room. Your eyes drifted to Mark’s watching him. His face was like stone, his posture rigid and cold, but his thumb was soft as it brushed over the back of your hand. 

“Silence.”

Mark’s voice cut through the room like a blade, deep and commanding. At once, the whispers died. The chamber stilled.

General Valcove rose from his seat. You remembered him from the training hall.  He was massive, broader even than Mark, his presence filling the room like a storm. His dark eyes flicked to you briefly, then settled back on Mark with something sharp, something dangerous. 

“Bring in the accused,” Valcove ordered.

The doors slid open again. Guards entered, flanking Seris as they escorted her forward. The sight made your stomach twist. Her face was bruised, purple blooms spreading across her jaw, a crust of dried blood still visible under her nose. Her wrists were bound in cuffs, though you knew it was more for show than necessity.

You clutched Mark’s hand tighter, the ache in your chest growing unbearable. You leaned forward in your chair, trying to get a better glimpse of her. Seris’s gaze lifted, and for the first time, her eyes found yours. Her face was stone, unreadable, but you saw the faintest flicker there, recognition, resolve, shock. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw you sitting next to Mark, her eyes drifted to your linked hands. She wasn’t expecting you here, not yet. She wasn’t expecting you to run to her defense. 

Mark’s voice was steady, clipped, each syllable heavy with authority. “What are the charges?”

Valcove’s gaze shifted from Seris to Mark, his tone deep, resonant, carrying over the silent chamber. Something flashed in his eyes, you tensed when you saw it. Valcove was smirking, almost like this was fun for him, almost like he was enjoying this. 

“Seris, Commander of Quadrant One, you stand accused of treason against the Empire. Of aiding the Empress in defiance of council order, of conspiring to undermine the authority of the council, and of using the portal without sanction.”

The words cracked through the air like lightning, and the chamber hummed with murmurs again. Your heart sank at the mention of you. 

Valcove’s eyes narrowed, his smirk sharp. “How do you plead?”

Seris straightened, her shoulders squared despite the bruises and restraints. Her voice was cracked, hoarse, but carried the weight of iron. “Not guilty.”

The word cut through the silence like a blade, and for a heartbeat, you swore the whole empire held its breath.

The chamber was silent after Seris’s words. Not guilty. The sound echoing through the vast hall like a challenge hurled at the Empire itself.

Valcove’s lips curled into a sharp smirk, his voice rising as he turned to address the other council members. “Not guilty, she says. And yet we all know the truth. The Commander abandoned her post. She acted without order. She aided the Empress in leaving the confines of this palace, and worse, crossed into another dimension without sanction. If that is not treason against council rule, then what is?”

Seris spoke up again, “I was just doing my duty to protect the Empress.” 

Valcove turned on her, “You believe that protecting the Empress is carrying her through several different dimensions?” 

“You are a danger to the Viltrumite rule.” Valcove spat. 

Murmurs rippled through the chamber, whispers of agreement, sharp nods, narrowed eyes. These weren’t judges weighing justice. They were predators, circling the wounded, scenting blood. Sensing weakness. Seris weakness, her loyalty to you, to Mark, not to the Empire, to the council. 

Mark’s grip on your hand tightened. His voice cut through the noise, deep and commanding. “This is ridiculous. Seris has served this Empire longer than most of you have drawn breath. She has fought battles you could not imagine, crushed enemies that would have slaughtered you in seconds. And now you would call her a traitor for her loyalty? To me? Your Emperor?”

One of the older council members leaned forward, his voice dry and cruel. “Yes, her loyalty was not to the Empire, but to you. To her friendship. To your wife. That is a weakness. It must be snuffed out.”

The words struck you like a slap. The distaste evident in their tone. Wife. Yes, you were the Empress, but you had been gone for months now. Any and all respect you may have had in another life, was gone. You being “sick” was a weakness in their eyes. You were a weakness to Mark.

Another slammed his fist on the stone table. “Viltrum is not ruled by sentiment! We are ruled by strength. If she cannot follow the orders of the council, then she is nothing but a liability.”

The chamber hummed with agreement. The words stung. You could feel the disdain in their voices, the way they dismissed Seris not as a warrior, but as a threat to their order.

Your chest ached as you looked at Seris, bruised and bloodied, standing tall despite it all. Her eyes flicked to you for a fraction of a second, calm, steady, like stone.

Valcove spread his arms, his voice booming. “The evidence is clear. She conspired with the Empress, undermined the authority of this council, and risked destabilizing our Empire. I call for execution.”

Gasps rose from some corners of the room, while others nodded grimly. The word itself, execution, seemed to hang in the air, heavy and sharp.

You felt your breath catch, horror clawing at your throat. You turned to Mark, but his expression was unreadable, carved from stone, though his hand was crushing yours so tightly you thought your bones might break.

“Enough,” he growled, his voice echoing. The chamber stilled. His eyes cut to Valcove like daggers. “Enough of this nonsense.You dare call for the execution of my Commander? Of my oldest ally? Do you think you have that authority? That any of you really have a say of what happens in this Empire.”

His voice was cold, commanding, deadly.

Valcove didn’t flinch. His eyes narrowed, sharp and cold. “We all know that even Emperors must answer to the council.”

The chamber trembled with the weight of it. The truth of Viltrumite law, an Emperor was feared, yes, but bound by the council’s judgment welcomed or not. This was the game. Not justice, not fairness. It was power. Control. This was a power play against Mark’s rule. 

You could feel your pulse in your throat, your nails biting into Mark’s hand. If you stayed silent, Seris would die. If you spoke, you would risk everything, risk a mistake, risk a life, risk Mark’s reign. 

Mark rose to his feet, towering above the rest of the council, his hand releasing yours. 

“You presume too much, Valcove,” he snarled. “You speak as if you carry the weight of the Empire on your shoulders, but I don’t see your blood staining its soil. I don’t see your hands breaking our enemies in half. Seris has done more for this Empire than you ever have, and you would spit on her name to advance your own?”

His posture was rigid, deadly. “I see this for what it really is, Valcove, and I suggest you choose your words carefully before they are your last.” 

Valcove didn’t flinch. He smiled, cold and sharp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I don’t see you, Emperor, abiding by our ways. You let sentiment cloud your judgment. You let your Empress,” his eyes flicked to you, dark with venom, “dictate your rule. Perhaps you have forgotten who holds the true power here.”

The chamber erupted with murmurs again, the tension swelling like a storm ready to break. Some nodded in Valcove’s direction. Others whispered of defiance, of weakness. Others were shocked at the display of disrespect. 

Mark’s fists clenched at his sides, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “Careful, Valcove. There are lines even you should not cross.”

“And yet here we are,” Valcove countered, his voice rising, commanding the room. “Your Commander defies orders, your Empress plays with power, and you, our Emperor, shield them both. If this is not corruption, then it is weakness. And weakness cannot be tolerated.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You could feel it, the tide was turning against Seris, against Mark. Against you. If you stayed silent, Seris would die. If you let Valcove’s poison spread unchecked, everything would unravel.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you rose to your feet. The chamber stilled. A hush rippled through the room as dozens of eyes locked on you, the Empress who had no right to speak in their presence. Not anymore. You were a ghost to them now. 

Your voice was steady, though your blood roared in your ears.

“Enough.”

The word cracked through the silence, sharp and commanding. Your own tone shocking you. 

“You all dare to sit there and judge our rule.” Your eyes flickered to Mark. “I will not let Seris be condemned for her loyalty. She acted on my behalf, because I asked it of her. If there is blame to place, then place it on me.”

Whispers surged, the chamber alive with shock. No one moved. No one dared.

Mark turned to you, his jaw tight, his eyes burning, not with anger, but with something fiercer. Pride. Fear. Love.

The whispers surged again, louder this time, venom threading through the chamber like smoke. The councilors leaned toward one another, their voices sharp and cutting.

“She admits it herself.” “She undermines the council.” “Mark has allowed her to infect the throne.”

Valcove’s smirk widened, his dark eyes glinting as he seized the opportunity. He spread his arms, his voice carrying above the crowd. “You see? Even she confesses her hand in this betrayal. If loyalty to her outweighs loyalty to the Empire, then she is no Empress at all. She is a danger. A weakness”

Your pulse thundered. Mark’s gaze cut like fire as he turned on Valcove, his voice low, dangerous. “Choose your next words carefully, General. It would do you well to remember where your loyalty lies.”

The murmurs swelled, eager knives.

“You sit in that chair and make decisions for the Empire because you are beloved?” Valcove kept going, voice smooth and poisonous. “You call yourself Empress, but what is an Emperor’s consort who courts favor? A bedwarmer, playmate perhaps?”

Heat seared through you. His words were an old trick: attack competence, not origin. They painted you as nothing more than Mark’s whore, someone who was inexperienced and dangerous, a woman untested who would let the Empire fall. 

“You brand me a distraction because I do not match your image of power,” you said, standing before the tide of whispers. Your voice was tight, but steady. “You call my concern softness when I ask for mercy. You call Seris’s loyalty treason because the loyalty was to a friend. But I see you for who you truly are. You have no loyalty for your Empire, but for power and brutality. If your measure of a leader is cruelty disguised as strength, then call me what you must. I will stand with Seris anyway.”

Mark stepped forward shielding you from Valcove, the statue of the Emperor snapping perfectly into place. “You mistake cruelty for strength, Valcove,” he said, voice like iron. “You cling to a world where fear rules because it keeps you safe at the top. This council will not decide what is best for the Empire by tearing down those who serve it well. Seris is a commander. She has bled for you. You would set her up as a sacrifice to your politics? I will not stand for it, and if it were truly my choice I would strip you from every title and remove you from this Empire. My Empire. Permanently.”

His eyes swept the chamber, sharp and deadly. “If Seris falls, if the Empress is cast aside or so much as disrespected in my presence again, then every one of you will answer to me. And I promise you, you will not survive it.”

The room fell into tense silence. Valcove’s smirk widened as he looked past Seris and fixed his eyes on Mark. “You see, Emperor, this is what happens when you allow sentiment to rule your hand. A commander who abandons orders, an Empress who defies the council, it is rot, spreading from the throne down. If you do not cut it out, it will destroy us all.”

Valcove turned towards the council, “We need an Emperor who is not so easily corrupted by the warmth of a woman.” 

Mark’s body trembled with rage, his eyes burned into Valcove, sharp and cold. “And what would you know of rot, General? You’ve sat behind these walls while Seris has led campaigns across the galaxy. She has bled for this Empire. Tell me, Valcove, where were you when her blood watered the ground?”

Valcove’s jaw ticked, his composure slipping for the barest fraction of a second before he straightened, his voice booming. “I was where the council required me. Not sneaking soldiers into portals and bending rules to satisfy the whims of one woman. A woman we didn’t see for months because of a sickness.”

The chamber stirred with whispers again. Valcove’s words were poison, dripping into every ear. You could feel the tide turning, the hunger in their eyes for blood.

You stepped forward, opening your mouth before Mark could speak again. The sound of your voice cracked across the chamber, steady and cold.

“It’s true,” you said. The whispers died, every head turning toward you. “I have been ill. I was dying. And Seris, ” your eyes found hers, steady, even as her own widened at the lie. “Seris saved my life. Without her, you would not have your Empress. Without her, the Empire would be without its figurehead, and without the stability I provide at Mark’s side.”

The words left a hush in their wake. It wasn’t the truth, but it was enough. A story the council could accept. A reason for Seris’s disobedience that was not treason, but for the Empire. For the protection of the throne. 

“She protected the best interest of the Empire,” you continued, your chin lifting. “If she is guilty of anything, it is loyalty to the throne. And if that is treason, then every Viltrium in this chamber and on this planet is guilty.” 

Valcove slammed his fist down. “This is ridiculous. You would twist her crimes into virtue? This is a mockery of Viltrumite law!”

You turned to him, your voice sharp enough to cut through steel. Tired of this argument. “Seris is pardoned.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Valcove’s eyes went wide with fury, his chest rising and falling like a caged beast. “By whose command?” he spat.

Your chin lifted higher, your voice like a blade. “Mine.”

The words echoed through the chamber, final and immovable.

Mark stepped forward, his presence flaring beside you. “You heard your Empress.” His voice was deadly calm. “Seris is pardoned. The matter is closed.”

The chamber sat in stunned silence. 

Valcove snarled, “It is not your command to give.” 

You whirled on him, your words dripping venom. “It is now.” 

Valcove froze the length of a heartbeat, then forced composure like a man adjusting a mask. He drew himself up with a slow, dangerous bow and turned his hard eyes out toward the council, as if daring anyone else to speak.

Mark did not lower his voice. “If anyone questions the rule of this Empire or the Empress again,” he said, and the timber of his words carried to every corner, “they will lose their head.”

The words landed like a hammer. The murmurs that had swelled seconds before collapsed into a brittle silence. Even those who had wanted to test the new order swallowed it down. You felt the weight of every pair of eyes, the recalculation in the room: this was no longer some private quarrel to be exploited. This was a command.

Valcove’s jaw worked; he bowed shallowly, the smirk gone, replaced by a coldness that didn’t reach his eyes. “As you wish, Emperor,” he said, every syllable measured.

Someone, an elder councilor with the easy habit of smoothing troubled waters, inclined his head toward you with a stiffness that was almost a bow. Other members followed, some hesitant, some relieved to end the spectacle. The chamber resumed its business with the nervous rhythm of predators that had been startled and found their place again. 

You stepped away from Mark, and made your way to Seris’s side. The guards parted as you approached her. “Uncuff her,” you commanded. The guards stepped forward and removed her cuffs, she rubbed her wrist. You stepped forward and looped your arm in hers. Guiding her to the doors. You turned back to Mark meeting his gaze, he watched you navigate the room, giving you a soft nod. A silent command, he had more business to attend to here. 

Outside the council doors the air felt colder, thinner somehow. Servants and attendants cast sideways looks, mouths folded in new, cautious respect. Seris walked with steady grace. She caught your eye. There was gratitude in the hard line of her mouth, and something like relief. You guided her through the hallways toward your room, where she would rest and recover under watch, not captivity.

By the time you reached your chambers, Seris’s strength was faltering. She didn’t complain, didn’t show pain, but you could feel it. The heaviness in her steps, the tremor that rippled through her frame. You opened the door and helped her inside, easing her toward your bedroom. 

“You’re an idiot for going against Valcove.” Seris groaned. 

“You’re welcome.” You said, not wanting to fight with her too. 

You guided her toward your bed. She tried to refuse at first, muttering that a commander did not lie in an Empress’s bed. But you silenced her with a look, pulling the sheets back and guiding her down.

“Rest,” you said, your voice soft leaving no room for argument.

Seris exhaled, her pride fighting her weariness. Still, she relented, sinking back against the pillows. Her eyes closed almost instantly, her body surrendering where her spirit would not.

You stood at her bedside, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, your fingers brushing lightly over the sheets to make sure she was covered. When you were satisfied with her state you turned quietly and left the room. 

- - - - - - - - 

Your heart was still pounding when Mark arrived three hours later. His eyes were weary and frustration was etched across his features. Seris was still out.

Mark stepped inside, his presence heavy, filling the small room instantly. His armor was gone, but he still carried the storm of the council chamber with him, the rigid line of his jaw, the fire still smoldering in his eyes.

You stood when you saw him, “Hey.” 

“Hey.” His voice held exhaustion. 

“Where’s Seris?” He asked, stepping towards you to grab your hand. 

“She’s asleep.” 

Mark stepped around you and headed for your room, you followed him. The door opened softly as he stepped inside to check on her. 

His gaze went first to Seris, then back to you. The sight of her in your bed, her face bruised but peaceful, softened the hard edges of his expression. But only for a moment.

You straightened, bracing yourself. His eyes lingered on you, unreadable, as the silence between you stretched.

“She needs rest,” you said, your voice quiet, careful.

The tension in his body was still there, rigid, but it wasn’t fury radiating from him, it was something quieter. He looked tired, older somehow, though he would never admit it. He stepped back through the doorway, letting it close behind you both. The small hallway was suffocating as he focused all of his attention on you. 

“You defied the council,” he said finally. His voice wasn’t sharp. It was steady, almost careful.

You lifted your chin. “I saved her.”

Mark’s gaze held yours, unreadable for a long moment. Then he exhaled, the sound heavy, the fight draining from his shoulders. “You could have been destroyed in there. They are circling like wolves. Valcove was waiting for you to slip, for me to falter. One wrong word, and they would have torn you apart.”

Your chest tightened. “Then let them. I won’t sit by and watch Seris executed for protecting me.”

His jaw clenched, but his eyes softened. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You think I don’t understand that? You think I don’t want to defend her? But if they decide you’re unfit, if they strip you from my side, I lose you both. Do you understand?”

You blinked, startled by the rawness in his tone. It wasn’t anger, it was fear.

“Mark…” you whispered.

He reached for you then, his hand curling gently around your arm. The warmth of his touch sent sparks up your skin, but the way he looked at you stole your breath.

“I don’t care what they whisper,” he said. “I don’t care that they think you are a weakness, because I know that you are my strength. I don’t care what they say about me, if they defy me. If they question my rule.” His voice was soft, and he was looking at you in a way that made your knees buckle. “But if they ever took you from me again, I don’t know that I could survive it. I wouldn’t survive it. You are the only reason that I didn’t rip everyone’s spine from their body for questioning you, for disrespecting you.”

Your heart swelled and cracked all at once. You searched his face, seeing not the ruthless Emperor the council feared, but the man who had bled and fought and lost, the man who had almost broken without you.

And for the first time, you wondered if he was right. Maybe it wasn’t anger driving him now, but the fear of losing you again.

You smoothed your hands over his shoulders, grounding yourself. “Let them speak. Let them whisper.” Your voice was soft, but it held the same command as his. “Let them call us weak. Let Valcove play his games.” 

Mark’s jaw ticked at the mention of his name, a muscle fluttering there. His eyes darkened, but he stayed still under your touch. You slid one hand up the back of his neck, fingers threading through the hair at his nape. You tugged him closer until your foreheads nearly touched.

“I don’t care,” you whispered. “I don’t care about them, or their rules. I care about you. About what we build. About the people who stood for me when they didn’t have to.”

Mark’s eyes flickered, a storm of things he never said out loud. His breath hitched, his hands sliding to your hips, fingers digging into you just enough to anchor himself. You felt him tremble, not from weakness, but from restraint.

“I…” His voice was rough. “I’m terrified of what they’ll do to you. Of what Valcove will do if he thinks he can take you from me. If he finds out the truth.”

You tilted his face up with your palms, brushing your thumbs along the hard lines of his jaw until his eyes met yours. “Then don’t let him. Don’t let them. I’m not going anywhere, nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m yours now” Your voice was quiet, dropping at the confession. “I’ve been yours for a while now.” 

Something in him cracked then. His forehead dropped to yours and he let out a shaky breath, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “You’re going to ruin me,” he murmured.

“Then let me,” you whispered back.

And before either of you could think, before the next doubt could creep in, you closed the small gap between you. The kiss that followed wasn’t soft or tentative; it was searing, claiming, the two of you breathing each other in like the world was burning down around you.

His hands tightened on your hips, drawing you flush against him. Your fingers curled into his hair, your breath breaking against his mouth. He kissed you like a man who’d been waiting, starved, who’d thought about this moment for far too long.

For a heartbeat there was no council, no Valcove, no throne. Only the heat of his body and the sharp, dizzying weight of the choice you’d just made, to stay, to stand, to be his equal.

You had won the battle today, but the war was just beginning. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Hello! First off I am so sorry that this part took me forever to get up, I was really struggling with the writing and the direction of it. I didn't want the reader to fall too fast, but I just kept continuously struggling with it. I'm trying to dive into the political tension and how the reader will navigate that. I hope you like it!

Second thank you so much for the continued patience with my updates as of recent. I have been struggling with some writers block lately.

As always thank you so much for reading, commenting, liking, the reblogs, and all the messages! Truly it makes my day to know that people are enjoying this series!

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“Stop trying to snap me in half,” you groaned. 

Seris smirked, her tone dry. “It’s not my fault you’re fragile and have poor flexibility” 

You rolled your eyes at her trying to hide your grimace. “I promise you, I’m not fragile. And I am very flexible!” 

Seris smiles, “Oh I’m sure the Commander will tell me all about how flexible you are when you finally-” 

You cut her off sharply and quickly. “Seris!” 

Your cheeks burned under the lights of the training hall. Not only was Seris a formidable warrior and a force to be reckoned with, she was also cheeky and very very nosey. 

Seris grinned, enjoying your discomfort. 

“Mark and I are….friends.” you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady. 

Right? Friends. Yes. Because friends totally strip each other's clothes off with their eyes. Friends pin each other to a training mat and drive them insane with the sexual tension. Friends totally think about each other late at night with their hands between their legs. 

Your thoughts drift to your time with Mark in the training hall. How good it felt to have his hands on you. 

Seris chuckled, dropping your leg. “I have eyes that can see, you know.” She helped you stand on the mat, “I see the way you look at each other.” 

“We don’t look at each other in any certain way.” you defended. 

Seris rolled her eyes. “No you’re right. I also look at the Commander as if I want him to ravish me in the halls.” 

Sarcasm dripped off each word as she handed you a water jug. You glared at her more, shaking your head. 

“I do not look at him like that. You’re mistaken. We’re just friends,” you said, taking a sip of water. “That’s what we agreed on.” 

Seris didn’t push it any further. She didn’t need to. The silence that followed after your lie was full of everything that she already knew. Mark and you were friends, but it was just a front, even if it was just on your end. 

He wasn’t yours to keep. Being friends with him kept him at an arms length. Prevented feelings from muddying the water. The truth was that you couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually you would leave this life and you’d have to leave everything here with it. Your Mark would find you eventually, he’d take you back home, and everything would go back to normal. 

You dropped the water jug down by the mat. “Besides, people from my dimension are looking for me.” you added. “I can’t stay here forever.” 

Seris guided you into another stretch, pushing you slightly past discomfort. “What if they weren’t?” 

Your blood froze in your veins. Your body tensed and a panic seized through your body. You twisted out of the stretch and turned to Seris head on. 

“What? What are you saying? Are you saying-” 

Seris cut you off, “I’m not saying anything.” Her face was like stone, “Look I care about Mark. He is my oldest friend. I have fought with him and loved him as my Emperor. He’s different with you. Happier. Better. I know losing you again would break him.” 

“I’m not his.” you whispered, more to yourself than to her. 

Her eyes softened. “What if you could be? If you knew that there was nothing for you in your dimension, would you stay here?” 

The question rattled you. An ache filled your chest so sharp that you wanted to double over in pain. You knew Mark loved you, or rather the memory of who you were before. Who he was asking you to be. You knew there were differences, but surely there had been similarities. Some thread of who you had been here tying you to this dimension. 

The thought made you want to scream. What if they weren’t looking for you? Would you stay? What if they were looking for you? What then? Regardless it still didn’t erase the truth. The truth was that there was something about this Mark. Something that had ignited a flame in you that you had never known before. 

You honestly couldn’t remember a boyfriend from the past that had ever made you feel the way that this Mark had made you feel. So loved, so seen, so wanted. The feeling was consuming and that thought wrapped around your chest and squeezed the air out of your lungs. 

The worst part? You didn’t want it to ease. You wanted him to love you, to consume you, body and soul. You wanted to know him in every way possible, to learn all of the broken parts of him and help him put them back together. You wanted to truly know him. 

You caught Seris’s gaze, “I don’t know, maybe?” 

You breathed slowly, your throat tightening. “Is he-?” You couldn’t bare the thought, “Is he not looking for me?” 

Seris eyes softened. “It’s not for me to say.” 

You felt a hot tear roll down your cheek. A vice grip on your chest and a lump on your throat. “Can you find out?” 

You weren’t really sure if you wanted to know. Either way, you knew it would shatter you. 

“No,” Seris’s voice was firm. 

You frowned, frustration now boiling in your veins. You tried to speak but she cut you off. 

“But you can.” 

Shock washed over your face. “What?” 

Seris reached for your hand and squeezed it. “I can take you.” 

You tried to speak again, but she cut you off, silencing you. “It is illegal to use the machine without sanction, but I can deal with the consequences later.” 

The words hit you, “Illegal? You’d risk-” 

She cut you off again, “I risk less than you do if you stay here in ignorance.” Her jaw tightened, a memory pulling at her from the past. “I know what it’s like to feel trapped. I have never wished that on anyone. If your heart drifts back to your old life then I will not force you to remain. I’ll handle Mark if it comes to it. I will not let you live under the torment of not knowing. If you want to go, if you need to go, then I will take you.” 

You felt dizzy from the weight of her words. There was more to her than you knew. To walk back into your own life, to stand on your old street, to see your Mark shook you. Your mind racing with the possibilities. Any answer could break you. Any answer could free you from the guilt eating at you. 

Seris watched you, waiting for a sign. You took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. “Mark-” 

“Will live.” Seris finished, redirecting your guilt. “I will stop him if he tries to come for you. It will be treason, but I will risk it.” 

“Why? You don’t owe me anything.” 

Sadness and pain flashed behind her eyes, it was the first real emotion you had seen from her. “It’s not entirely for you,” she confessed. “I made a promise to…well you. The other you, that I would always take care of Mark. But I was promised to protect you too, and I can only protect you from everything but yourself.” 

She took a deep breath, “I see the internal battle you fight. I can’t fight that battle for you. I can’t beg you to stay here and find a home here, and I won’t force you to. If you decide to go, then I will take you. If you decide to not return, then I will bid you a farewell. I do not want to hold the keys to another woman's cage.” 

Her words struck you like a slap across the face. She was serious. She would take you home and leave you alone. Risk her rank, her friendship with Mark. All because she knew how it felt to be a woman trapped in a cage. Forced to be someone or something she wasn’t. She had lived several lives before you, and she would live several lives after you. 

You took a deep breath, “Okay. Take me.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

After training, Seris had led you to the far western part of the building. It was unfamiliar territory to you, but she guided you nevertheless. She brought you to a far empty corridor with a large metal door at the end of it. The door was flanked by two guards, their form solid as stone and their shadows loomed down the hall. You swallowed, nerves racking through your body. Seris turned to you, her voice hushed. “Demand access.” 

Your eyes widened and your heart hammered in your chest. What? You steeled your spine trying to work up the courage, silently rehearsing the words in your head. 

The door was flanked by a pair of female and male guards. Like all the Viltrumite’s you had seen, these guards were fit and their uniforms were stretched out across cords of muscle. They stared down at you, their gazes hard and relentless. Seris glared back and you did your best to match her expression. 

“We demand access.” Your voice was cold, hard, like steel. 

Without so much as a second glance, the guards took a step to the side and allowed you to walk towards the door. A loud click sounded as the locking mechanism released and the doors whirled open allowing you and Seris to enter. 

The corridor hummed with the portal’s slow breath, its energy causing goosebumps to rise and prickle your skin. Seris stepped towards the control panel and began punching in numbers and access codes. 

“Well that was easy.” You state, trying to distract yourself. 

Seris chuckled, “There’s perks to being royalty.” 

The archway buzzed with an electric blue haze as it whirled to life. Seris stepped back from the console, turning to you. Her eyes were soft. “Once you step through,” she said quietly, “what you see will change everything.” 

You took a deep breath. The portal cast a faint blue glow across her features. “I want the truth,” you said. Your voice steadier than you felt. 

She nodded, “Okay then we go.” 

The decision sounded like a command. Seris looped her arm through yours and guided you toward the portal. “We do this quickly,” she said. “We do not interfere until you make your decision, it’s better if people don’t know we’re there.” 

You nod at her words. She gave you a small nod and you stepped forward. The world folded around you, pushing and pulling your bones and muscles. You stepped out onto the streets of Chicago. The air was crisp and buzzed with the sound of people bustling throughout the streets. 

This was once your home. A sense of comfort flooded your veins. You turn to Seris, “How do we find him?” 

It was near sunset. You glanced around looking for a resemblance of a date and the time. You walked over to a newspaper stand and glanced at the date. Friday August 18th. You had been gone for a little over four months. It was Friday. Mark was likely meeting up with his friend William for dinner. 

“He’ll be downtown.” You said. 

Seris nodded and began to lead you through the crowds. Bystanders barely registered you as you weaved around them, her grip tight on your wrist. Nerves bundled in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure what to expect. What if you were seen? What if Mark saw you? Would he try to fight Seris? Would Seris just let you go? That was her promise. What about the other Mark? Would he let you go so easily if it meant your happiness? 

Guilt weighed heavy in your chest. You were stuck between worlds. You missed your life here. The hustle and bustle of the Chicago streets, university, your Mark, your friends. You had worked so hard to the place that you were and you had earned every bit of what you had. The guilt gnawed at you. 

Seris stopped abruptly pulling you out of your thoughts and into the shadows of an alley way. You heard him before you saw him, his laugh loud and genuine rang out over the busy street. You scanned the sidewalk and saw him sitting at a small metal table with William. They were no doubt laughing at something William had said. Your chest tightened at the sight of him, your emotions overwhelming you, tears pricking your eyes. He was here. Mark was right there, your Mark. The boy you fell in love with in high school, the boy who was by your side when you lost your parents two years ago, the boy who had crappy take out and move marathons with. Your first everything was across the street. 

His hair was longer, his skin tanned from the sun. He was smiling, a genuine and real smile, one that you didn’t know you missed. He was dressed casually and seemed relaxed. You didn’t know why, but something pulled in your chest. He was….happy. You didn’t know why this bothered you. 

“He’s not as fit or as handsome as the commander.” Seris’s words broke you out of your thoughts. Her voice had a hint of a judgemental tone, almost like she was trying to figure out why you were so attracted to him, why you missed him so much, why you were so attached.

You turned to Seris, your eyes hot. You don’t know why her words set you off. Your emotions were high. “Shut up, he’s no-” 

Seris’s eyes shot back across the street. “Who’s she?” 

You whirl around to see a girl walking towards their table. Samantha Wilkins. Mark had introduced you to her in high school. She liked to be called Eve. She was a friend of his and a superhero just like he was. You were always grateful to her for being there for him in a way that you couldn’t be. You could never relate to him about hero stuff. 

“That’s…Eve.” You didn’t recognize your voice. It sounded defeated and hollow. 

Seris and you watched as Eve approached the table. Her smile was bright and she gave Mark and William a little wave. When she reached the table Mark stood from the chair and opened his arms without hesitation. She leaned in and embraced him. 

Their friends. Friends hug. 

Eve took a seat next to Mark and quickly entered into the conversation. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You didn’t know how long you and Seris had been following your Mark around. Evening had quickly turned to night fall. 

“The stars aren’t as pretty here.” Seris remarked, clearly trying to pull you from your thoughts. 

Why was Mark with Eve? Sure they were friends, but why? Mark was allowed to have friends, that was okay.

“Yeah perks of living in space I guess.” you mumble. 

You were perched on a small roof with Seris, the shadows hiding both of you from plain sight. Mark and Eve had gone back to Mark’s mom’s house. They were sitting on the steps in the back patio. You could hear Mark laughing and Eve giggling as they reminisced over missions. 

“I really should go home.” You heard Eve say as she stood from the step. 

Mark stood with her, “Yeah it’s getting late.” 

“Well thanks for dinner.” Eve called, turning to slip out of the back gate. 

“You’re welcome” 

Mark was nervous. Even from here you could see his cheeks flush pink under the outdoor lights, and he was rubbing the back of his neck. 

Your heart sank. They weren’t just friends. Maybe it hadn’t crossed the line yet, but you knew it was just a matter of time. You thought back to your first date with Mark and how you too had ended up on that step on the back patio. 

“Eve?” 

You watched in horror as Eve turned back to Mark. He approached her with a soft smile on his lips. Eve smiled back. Mark slowly brushed a strand of scarlett hair out of her face and tilted her chin up. 

No. No. No. 

You wanted to scream and slam your eyes shut. Four months. You had been gone for four months. 

Your stomach turned sour as you watched Mark, your Mark, your sweet, loving, kind Mark. The boy who was never supposed to hurt you, the boy you were supposed to marry, the boy you were supposed to grow old with, lean in a kiss Eve. 

It was a slow, certain kiss, the kind that he once gave you. In an instant the roof top you were sitting on tilted. Something in your chest unlatched and squeezed, suffocating you. You stood, tears pricking your eyes. You turned to Seris, her eyes met yours, they held sadness, regret. 

She opened her mouth to speak but you cut her off, “Take me home.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was a command nonetheless. 

The truth had been a knife and an absolution that pierced your chest. The love that you had felt for him earlier was gone, now replaced with sorrow and rage. How long did it take for him to move on to Eve? What if you never really mattered to him in the first place? What if everything was built on a lie? 

Seris guided you back through the portal. You didn’t wait for her to escort you back through the corridors. Your steps were fast and tears blurred your eyes as you walked, Seris calling after you. 

He wasn’t looking for you. 

The thought ripped you to shreds. He was never looking for you. 

You reached your room and quickly stepped through the threshold. Your breath was ragged and your legs were jelly. You reached for the small tablet by the door and locked your door, denying Seris access. You needed to be alone. 

You dropped to the floor, your back sliding down the door. A sob rips through your body, a single broken sound that shakes your shoulders. Salty, hot tears flow down your cheeks freely. The memory of Mark, smiling, happy, leaning into Eve slams into you. Seris’s voice is muffled behind the door, her fist pounding against the metal, begging you to let her in. 

He wasn’t looking for you. He’s moved on. 

You don’t know how long you sit in the silence of your room. Seris had gone silent behind the door. You assumed she had resumed her post and was standing rigid by your door, listening to your sobs. Waiting for you to let her in. 

You don’t know what time it is, all you know is that it’s late. The sky is a deep violet and stars flicker across the skyline. You stand, your body aching. You feel numb as you make your way to your room. You just wanted to sleep. To forget. 

You tuck yourself under the covers. The silk cool against your skin. You lay on your side, bringing your knees to your chest, folding in on yourself, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Tears silently fall down your face until you drift off, exhausted and hollow, into a sleep that tries to mask the grief. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

A soft weight makes the mattress dip, waking you. Your eyes softly open to see Mark sitting at the edge of the bed. Your chest seizes, the ache returning. It’s not your Mark, but your heart doesn’t know how to discern the differences right now. 

The first thing you notice is a deep violet and green bruise has bloomed across his jaw, no doubt from whatever he had to deal with in the further quadrants. His lip is busted and he’s bracing a hand against his ribs. He looks exhausted. 

You sit up, panic consuming you. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Mark grimaces, his tone short and breathless, like it hurts to breathe. 

A silence washed over the room. The metaphorical elephant in the room. You turn your gaze down to your hands, you pull at a loose thread in the comforter. 

“I’m sorry I left,” you say softly. The words tumble out before you can stop him, “I needed to know the truth.” 

Mark gives you a little nod, the motion heavy. “I know.” He inhales slowly, a flash of pain crossing his face. “I’m-” He hesitates trying to find the words, “I’m sorry it wasn’t what you expected.” His voice is soft and calm. 

He’s not mad? 

“Please don’t punish Seris,” you plea. 

Guilt washes over you. You should have let her comfort you, should have let her in your room. It’s partially your fault that she was in this situation. 

Mark’s jaw tightens. For a moment he’s quiet, thinking about his words. “The council will decide whether her actions constitute treason, she used the portal without sanction.” 

You meet his gaze, “That’s not true, it was under my sanction, I made her do it. If the council says otherwise then tell them that I overrule them.” 

The command was small and it rang out in the dark. Mark watches you for a beat before he gives you a soft, almost relieved smile. “Fine, I will tell the council that you have made a decision.” 

You nod. Your eyes drift back to the soft thread on the comforter. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. Your reality crashing back down on you. It was impossible to get the image out of your brain. 

Mark’s warm fingers press against your chin tilting your head up to look at him. “Hey, he didn’t deserve you,” Mark says, his voice calm and soft. “I’m not even sure I deserve you, but I promise I will never hurt you. I will always protect you and I will always take care of you. And I will spend the rest of my lifetime proving that I can be the man you need.” 

The promise echoes through the room, it’s quiet but honest and real. A stray tear slips from your lashes and trails down your cheek. He sweeps the pad of his thumb across your cheek, brushing the tear away. The gesture ignites something inside of you. 

“I’m sorry for leaving.” You whisper, guilt washing over you. 

“It doesn’t matter now,” His voice is soft, reassuring. 

“But-” 

He cuts you off, “You came back, that’s all that matters to me.” 

You smile softly at him, “So did you.” 

Mark leans closer to you, his eyes soft and intense. “ I will always come back to you,” he says. “No matter what, if I can’t run, then I will walk. If I can’t walk, then I will crawl.” 

Your chest swells. He really did love you. You didn’t deserve him. You lean forward and rest your forehead on his. His hand cups your cheek softly. The contact is small and steady and real. It anchors you, calms you. You take a deep breath, savoring his presence. 

He’s back. He came back. 

You reach up and grab his wrist.

“Stay with me,” you whisper. 

You didn’t know what made you say the words. You just knew that you wanted him close to you. You didn’t want to be separated from him at this moment. Mark pulled away from you, his eyes searching yours. 

“Okay. I just sleep in the living-” 

“No,” you cut him off. “Stay here,” you whisper, gesturing to the empty space in the bed. 

Mark looked shocked and his cheeks heated at your request. He just nodded softly and stood from the bed. He peeled his form fitting shirt over his head, whincing as he did. You noticed the deep purple bruises littering his skin. 

He caught your gaze. “You should see the other guys.” 

Your cheeks flushed at his words. He lays the shirt off to the side. He pauses, staring at you, waiting for you to tell him you’ve changed your mind. You watch him, giving him a soft nod. Mark slowly climbs under the covers, pulling them up to his torso. He settles himself on the mattress, his presence solid, comforting. 

You roll to your side, pulling yourself close to him. Wrapping your hands around his bicep. His skin is warm under yours, and the muscle flexes under your touch. His warmth seeps under your skin, calming you. 

The silence between you is calming, comforting. You slowly begin to drift back to sleep. 

“I meant what I said.” Mark’s voice cuts through the silence, barely a whisper. “I’ll always come back for you.” 

The words hit you, filling you with warmth. You tilt your chin up to him, his head turns catching your gaze. “I know,” you whisper. “I believe you.” The admission is both surrender and relief. 

He won’t leave you. He won’t discard you. He’ll always come for you. He would always reach for you. 

You pulled yourself closer to him and softly drifted off to sleep, his promise lingering in your chest.

----------------------------

Ahh the next chapter is going to be soo good! I felt so bad for making Mark a crappy boyfriend, but it was for the sake of the plot! Thank you thank you thank you so much for reading! It means so much to me!

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Your voice, so soft and delicate, barely above a whisper, echoed in his ears. He breathed deeply, willing the thoughts to calm down. The icy streams cascaded down his back, his muscles flexing. His jaw clenched tight. 

Images of you crashed through him. Your eyes, soft and but dark with need as you looked up from your book. Your lips, soft and warm ghosting across his skin. Your body, pressed close enough that he swore he could still feel your warmth against his skin. Mark’s teeth ground together as the images rushed through his mind. He bowed his head low, the ache only growing stronger. 

His hand slid from the wall and slipped in between his thighs, searching for relief. He was heavy in his own hand. The contact caused him to grit his teeth. Your frame still flashed behind his eyes. The memory of the heat and the need in your own eyes made him groan at the slow movements of his fist. You thought that he hadn’t noticed, but he was so painfully aware of your presence. Of the way you bit your lip, of the way your thighs clenched tighter trying to hide your arousal. He knew you better than he knew himself. You were walking a sharp edge and it would have been so easy for him to let you tumble over the edge with him. 

How easy it would have been to claim your mouth with his own and hurl you off into oblivion. He had always been the more dominant lover in your relationship. How easy it would have been to take control of the situation and pin you to the wall and claim you. Maybe he would have hiked your leg up on his hip so he could slide perfectly in between your thighs. Mark thought about the way you would have whimpered against his lips and how you would fit together like puzzle pieces. The thought made him fuck his fist faster. 

He would have trailed kisses down your jaw and up your neck. Roamed his hands along your sides. Relishing the feeling of your body against his. He imagined his name would slip off your lips in a breathy moan, your hands clutching his shoulders trying to ground yourself as his hands slipped down to your thighs. 

Mark. 

Your moans echoed in his head. Sweet and addictive, like a familiar and old song. How easy it would have been to carry you to your sleeping quarters and lay you gently on the bedding. He would’ve taken his time with you. Slowly peeled layer after layer off of your body until you were completely naked beneath him. Then, and only then, would he have gotten on his knees and worshiped you. Your hands would have flown to his dark locks, tangling in his short black hair. He would have suck and lick between your thighs like a man starving. 

He imagined you moaning his name, your hands pulling his head further between your thighs as your hips began to rock slightly. He’d hold you down, praising you for your enthusiasm, but he’d want to take his time with you. Once he was satisfied, he’d slowly run a finger between your folds, gathering the wetness there until his fingers were slick. He’d start with one finger, pressing it into you slowly, relishing at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his digits. Mark groaned, tightening his hand around his cock at the thought. 

You were going to be the death of him. 

He’d devour you as he pushed a finger in and out of you, adding more fingers the closer you got to your orgasm. You’d moan shamelessly, not caring what anyone heard. He would take you all the way to the edge before slowing down and pulling away from you. He’d praise you and tell you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, how much he had missed you. 

Beg me to cum. He’d say. Not a command, but a need. He always liked it when you begged him for more. Begged him for something only he knew how to give you. He could have you here for hours or be done in minutes. 

Even as defiant as you were you would beg and he would obey. Your thighs would tighten around his head, your back would bow off the bed, you’d tell him that you were so close. To not stop. You’d moan his name and tell him you were cumming. He’d feel your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers as you came. He’d guide you through your high, slowing down just enough for you to ride it out. Your face would be etched with bliss, a sheen of sweat layered across your skin. Your chest would fall up and down as you tried to come back down to earth. He’d guide you back to him with soft kisses against your thigh and slow licks against your folds. 

He’d tell you that you're perfect as he crawled up your body leaving a trail of kisses. You’d tell him that you loved him and kiss him fully as you wrapped your arms around him. He’d continue to kiss your neck as he removed his clothing, only breaking apart enough to remove his shirt. He’d be heavy and hard in your hand. Once again he’d hike a thigh up against him hip and kiss you deeply, letting his tongue slip in your mouth. 

You’d guide him to your entrance. Mark would cup your face and tell you how much he loved you as he slowly sunk into you. You’d gasp at the stretch, and tell him that you loved him too. And for the first time in a long time a planet where he felt abandoned and alone, would feel like home again. 

And with that thought Mark came in his first with a groan. 

He shuttered as he came down from his high. His thighs trembling and his muscles relaxed yet tight with the tension. He let the cool water run over the planes of muscles on his back. 

He was so fucked. 

Groaning Mark cleaned himself off and stepped out of the shower, he needed to go clear his head. You were consuming him, mind, body, and soul. 

Mark wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way through his quarters and into his closet. He quickly dressed in a form fitting grey long sleeve and some grey pants. He needed to rest. 

His body still radiated tension as he slipped into the soft dark grey silk sheets. His blood pounded in his ears as he laid back against the mattress. He thought about touching himself again, maybe he could exhaust himself enough so he could sleep. He turned to the empty side of the bed, cold in your absence. He groaned, it was going to be a long night. 

- - - - - - - - - - 

You didn’t know how long you had been staring at the ceiling. Hours? Has it really been that long? You turned to the small silver digital clock on the bedside table. It was well past midnight. 

Has Mark really gotten to you that much? He had. The crippling weight of the realization of who this man was had hit you like a train earlier this evening. Yes, he was a tyrant, an emperor to an empire that demanded strength and bloodlust. But beneath he was more. He was everything that Seris had said he was. He was kind, caring, and was attentive to you. More than anyone else had been, more than your Mark had been. 

Everything was happening too fast. You weren’t supposed to be feeling this way about him. But when you felt the heat of his body against yours it sent you into a frenzy. He was magnetic and you didn’t know how much longer you could resist the pull. You tried to reason with yourself, tell yourself that none of this would be happening if he didn’t look like your Mark. But the truth was, it wasn’t an excuse anymore. Something about him made you feel truly seen, truly loved, and truly wanted. 

You loved your Mark, you wanted to go home, but you couldn’t help but to feel that in a strange way, some part of this world was starting to feel like home. Starting to feel familiar. You had been creating theories in your head that every variant, no matter the dimension, would always be drawn close together. That Mark was your other magnetic half and that’s why you were feeling a pull towards him. 

You groaned, pulling the covers off your body. You didn’t want to think about this anymore. You threw your legs off the bed, grabbing your robe and stomped towards the door. Unknown to Mark, Seris had given you the codes to unlock the doors. You hadn’t used them yet, knowing that it would create a time log and Mark would more than likely notice, but you couldn’t be confined to this room trapped with your thoughts. You slipped your arms through the soft silk material and punched in the code. 

The gardens would help you clear your head. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

Sleep eluded Mark. He wrestled in his sheets for what felt like hours. His thoughts of you consuming his mind. Out of frustration, he threw the sheets off of his body. He would go to the training hall to clear his head. Pounding his fist into the training post would be a good distraction and would ease the tension throughout his muscles. 

He stalked through his quarters making his way to the door. It slid open with a hiss. 

The east corridor was quiet at this hour. Mark suspected that it was early in the morning due to the soft violet glows that stretched across the sky. His boots echoed throughout the corridor as he strode towards the training hall, the restlessness in his body demanding a release. The ghost of his thoughts followed him down the corridor. He would pass right by your room. He could relieve the guards and slip inside and check on you. Maybe just sleep on your couch, that would be close enough and then maybe his thoughts would settle enough for him to get some sleep. 

He shook his head at the thought. What a fucking creeper. What kind of guy just sleeps on a woman's couch unannounced? He tried to reason with himself that she was technically in some way his wife, but he knew better than to go there. It was wrong of him to try to justify it. 

The soft shuffling of tip toes caught Mark’s attention, breaking him out of his thoughts. His eyes scanned the corridor. 

Fuck. 

You were leaned up against a pillar near the arched windows. A soft violet glow covered you as you admired the view. Mark’s pace quickened, striding to you. Your body jolted when he was a few feet away from you. You yelped softly and clutched a hand to your chest. 

“You scared me,” you said with a soft giggle and a smile. 

A slight curve caught Mark’s lips. You turned back to the window and continued to admire the view. 

“I never get to see this side of the empire at this time, I’m always sleeping.” 

Something pulled inside of Mark’s chest and his thoughts raced, emotions clashing together like meteors in his brain. 

His voice was soft. “There’s more sides of this empire that I could show you than you know.” 

You turned to him. God you were beautiful, and even though you were here breathing and looking at him, he missed you. After months of being empty and alone, you were here, breathing life back into him.  

You shifted underneath his gaze, your cheeks flushing. Mark noticed the soft silk draped across your body, hugging your curves. Your bare legs caught the soft glow of the moons and the corridor lighting. His chest tightened, the heat returning to his skin. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“What are you doing out of your room?” His voice came out more restrained and harsher than he meant it. A wave of protectiveness washing over him. 

You froze under his gaze. Right. You weren’t supposed to be out of your room or know how to get out of your room. 

“I’m sorry, I was-” you trailed off, trying not to give yourself away. 

Oh hey Mark! Sorry I’m wandering the east wing late at night! I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted you to press me against the wall and kiss the life out of me earlier. By the way, I was going to the gardens. 

“I was having trouble sleeping, so I was going to the gardens” you finished. 

So he wasn’t the only one. Noted.

“Unsupervised?” he asked. 

Your cheeks flushed again and you felt like you were a kid getting in trouble by your parents. “Actually I was on my way to come get you.” 

It was only a small white lie. Technically you were coming to inform him of you sneaking out, but not until the morning when he asked about the time log. 

Mark’s breath caught. Your words sank into him, the fire roaring under his skin. You were coming to his room. Wearing that? Mark was suddenly aware of just how thin the material you were wearing was. The silk robe hit mid-thigh on you. If you bent over, he was sure he’d get a good look of your behind. You pulled it tighter against your body while his gaze consumed you. 

This was torture. 

Mark cleared his throat, knocking himself out of a trance. He made a mental note to check whose code was used on the time log. On the surface, his expression remained neutral, calm even, but inside he was reeling. He tried to keep his thoughts steady, but the thought of him opening his door to find you in a silk robe and a silk gown made his mind turn to mush. 

Before he could say anything you spoke up, “But you look busy, so I’m just going to go back to my room.” 

You turned to make your way back to your room, but Mark reached for your hand, grabbing your wrist. The heat of his touch seared your skin, sending sparks up your arm. 

“No it’s okay. I just-” 

Kill me. Take me out right now. 

Mark cleared his throat, “I just want you to be safe. This is your home. You can go anywhere you want.” 

A look of shock etched across your face before you composed yourself. Mark released your hand and you smiled up at him softly. “Well I’ll be in the gardens if you need me.” 

I need you. 

He watched you begin to tip toe back down the hallway. The soft glow of the corridor lights casting your shadow on the wall. 

“Wait-” he called. You turned towards him and he took a few steps closer, “I’m heading to the training hall, would you…” his tone was soft, boyish almost. “Would you like to come with me?” 

Mark’s question hung in the air and for a moment he thought you might say no. You smiled tilting your head to the side, pretending to think. “Okay.” 

Relief flooded through Mark. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced down at your clothes, embarrassment flooding your system. “I should probably change.” 

Mark’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to remain a gentleman and not take in every inch of your exposed skin. “I’ll escort you back.” 

The walk back to your room was silent. Mark’s hand lingered by yours, his pinky grazing your hand ever so often. He resisted the urge to reach for you again. When your door came into view Mark punched in his code and it opened. You stepped through the doorway. 

Mark’s fist clenched by his sides, his nails digging into his palms. You stopped turning to him, “Are you coming inside?” 

Mark took a step back from the doorway. His shoulders tense and his fist clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. “No,” his voice was strained, but calm and controlled. “I think it is best if I stay out here.” 

Your cheeks flushed a deep red, the air thickening between you. You nodded and made your way through your room, your frame disappearing in the shadows. The door closed and Mark exhaled slowly through his nose. 

Fuck. Me. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

The training hall buzzed with energy as soldiers moved across the mats in pairs. The sound of fist meeting padded guards echoed through the vast chamber. But your attention never wavered from Mark. 

Mark was lethal. A predator in motion. Every muscle was cooked and controlled, his strikes precise and devastating. He moved with grace. Even as he dismantled each opponent, he held back his power, pulling them back to their feet, giving them tips, clapping them on their shoulders and dismissing them. 

You sat at the edge of the mat mesmerized. You told yourself that you were just watching out of curiosity and fascination. But your eyes kept finding his shoulders, tracing the hard lines of his muscles. You watched as his arms flexed as he stretched out his muscles walking towards you. Mark calmly dismissed everyone before walking toward you. 

His chest was heaving as he breathed deep trying to catch his breath. His dark hair was damp and it stuck to his forehead. Beads of sweat slid down the strong lines of his neck. You swallowed, trying to keep your thoughts at ease. 

Mark came to stand by you. He reached for a jug of water. You smiled at him. “You’re pretty good” you complimented. 

A boyish smile softened his features, “I was most showing off for you. They usually kick my ass.” 

You arched a brow, you knew a lie when you heard one. You smirked, playing along. “Well, in that case, I bet I could take you down no problem.” 

He chuckled lowly, watching you over his water jug. “Oh really?” 

You smirked, “Unless you’re too scared,” you teased, crossing your arms with a grin. 

He smirked back at you, his eyes playful, “Okay, you’re on.” 

Matt lead you to the padded mats. He raised his fist lazily, making a show of it. He smiled at you as you circled him. You bounced around on your toes, circling him, throwing playful jabs that barely made him flinch. He watched you with amused patience, lips twitching trying to hold back a grin. 

“Amused silence, is this how you plan to defeat me Commander?” you mocked, punctuating it with a light jab at his shoulder. 

He smirked, circling you. “Careful. I wouldn’t want to hurt your ego.” 

You giggle at him, sending another jab at his bicep. He twisted dogging the jab and caught your wrist in a firm grip. With one swift motion, he swept your legs from beneath you, hauling you down to the mat gently. You squealed, laughter spilling out of you as he pinned you easily. 

Mark’s laugh joined yours, it was warm, rich, and genuine. For a heartbeat, he wasn’t a tyrant or the ruler of an empire. He was just Mark. 

His hands caught your wrist and pinned them to the mat, holding them with one hand. His hips pinned yours down, holding you still. His other hand was braced against the mat next to your head, holding himself steady. He hovered over you, his smile boyish and smitten. A small fire rose inside you, your stomach flipping. 

“What are you going to do now, darling?” he teased, his voice low. 

You tilted your chin, breath shaky, challenging him. “What do you want me to do? Beg for mercy?”

The air shifted instantly. Mark’s eyes darkened. His breath hitching slightly. His grip tightened around your waist. 

His playful smile faltered into something heavier, darker. His voice dropped, husky. “Careful now. I might like it if you beg.”

Goosebumps erupted across your skin. A burning heat pooling low in your belly spreading through your veins like fire.

Your voice trembled, barely a whisper. “Maybe I’d like it if you make me beg.”

The sound that left him was raw, something between a growl and a groan. He lowered himself closer to you, his body laying on yours. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot and ragged. His nose brushed yours, his hand cupping your face, rough calloused fingers softening against your cheek. 

Your eyes fluttered closed. A need rolling through your body. You tilted your head, aching for him to close the distance. 

Please. 

Mark’s lips brushed yours, barely. A moan caught in your throat. 

“Commander.” 

The voice cracked through the heated haze like a whip. Mark’s eyes snapped open. The warmth in them had vanished instantly, replaced with the cold steel of a predator. He turned his gaze from you slowly, deliberately, his gaze lethal as it caught whoever had dared to intrude. 

Mark’s eyes hardened on Valcove. You followed his gaze and gasped at the man who stood before you. 

The general loomed in the shadows of the training hall, broad shoulders squared, arms crossed over his massive chest. He didn’t step closer, but his presence filled the space all the same, choking the air from your lungs. His body was carved from muscle and menace, easily as tall as Mark but heavier, denser, like stone shaped into something meant only to kill. The sharp pure white of his uniform stretched taut across his chest, his thick mustache curling with the faintest trace of a smirk.

Mark was on his feet in an instant, dragging you up with him so quickly that your knees nearly buckled. His hand didn’t leave yours, grounding you even as your skin burned at the loss of his weight above you. He shifted so that his body was a shield, angled firmly between you and the general’s hungry gaze.

“General Valcove.” Mark’s words were clipped, deadly quiet.

Valcove didn’t answer him. Not at first. His black eyes were locked on you, studying you with slow, deliberate intent. A shiver ran down your spine as he bowed to you. 

“Your majesty,” he drawled, his voice deep and coarse. “You’ve been missed in court.”

You instinctively leaned closer into Mark’s side, trying to disappear into him. The general’s attention felt suffocating, a weight pressing down on your chest. His eyes dragged over you like a blade, sharp, appraising, unkind.

“State your business, Valcove,” Mark snapped, his voice a sharp command that ricocheted through the cavernous hall.

Finally, Valcove’s gaze shifted, though not without reluctance. He turned to Mark with feigned casualness, but the sneer never left his mouth.

“There are whispers from the far quadrants,” he said smoothly. “There’s rumors of an army.  There may be… a threat.”

Mark’s jaw flexed, his nod curt. “Gather the second commanding officers and their troops. We’ll leave now.”

Valcove nodded, but he wasn’t finished. His gaze slid back to you, dragging across your frame with the weight of a predator circling prey. The smirk widened just slightly.

“Welcome back, your majesty,” he said softly, voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “It was… good to see you.”

Your throat tightened, but no words came. His presence pressed against your lungs until you could hardly breathe.

Mark’s grip on your hand tightened, his body angling more fully in front of you. He didn’t speak again, not to Valcove. He simply turned, pulling you with him until the massive doors of the training hall sealed shut behind you with a hiss. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - 

The silence between you was deafening as Mark led you through the dimly lit corridors, his hand firm around yours. Every step echoed, every brush of his thumb over your skin sending sparks up your arm. Neither of you spoke, but your body was alive with the weight of him beside you, his warmth, his sheer presence.

When you reached your door, you expected him to release your hand immediately, but he didn’t. Seris stood ridged next to your door, her eyes glancing down at your joined hands. Mark led you inside, the door softly shutting behind you. The quiet of your chambers wrapped around you like a shroud, thick with everything unsaid.

Mark released your hand slowly, reluctantly, as if letting go took more strength than he cared to admit. He moved a step away, his broad frame still tense, his jaw tight. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to speak, but instead he drew a long breath and said, low and steady, “I have to leave for a few days. There’s unrest in the far quadrants. I’ll be back soon.”

The words landed heavy in your chest, pulling at something deep inside you. You nodded, though it felt mechanical. “I’ll… see you in a few days. Get some rest if you can.”

He turned as though to leave, already half-angled toward the door. Instinct seized you, sudden and overwhelming. 

“Wait,” you whispered, your hand shooting out to catch his wrist.

Mark froze. His gaze flicked down to your fingers around him, then up to your face. Something cracked in his eyes.

You stepped closer, closing the space between you. Rising onto your toes, you pressed your lips softly to his cheek. The warmth of him sank straight through you. 

“Be careful,” you whispered against him, voice steady. “Come back safe.”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

Then Mark turned, his body angling toward you, his hand lifting to cup your jaw. He bent forward, pressing his lips to your forehead with reverence, lingering there as if branding the moment into his memory. His breath warmed your skin, his voice vibrating against you.

“I will come back,” he murmured, low and certain. “I swear it. Seris will watch over you until then.”

You swallowed, heart hammering against your ribs, aching at the thought of him leaving. You didn’t know why. 

Your fingers curled tighter around his wrist, unwilling to release him. He felt it, your hesitation, your silent plea, and when his eyes met yours again, they burned with something raw. Something dangerous.

For a single, breathless second, you both hovered there, suspended on the edge of something you couldn’t name. His thumb brushed against your cheek tenderly.

But Mark stepped back, slowly, painfully. He let his hand fall, his body pulling away though his eyes lingered like a tether. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

And then, with a final glance that seared into you, he turned and slipped out the door.

The room fell silent.

You stood rooted in place, skin burning where he’d touched you, lips tingling where you’d kissed him. The weight of your reality pressed down again, he was the man who stole you, and yet… part of you already dreaded his absence.

You sank into your chair by the window, pressing trembling fingers to your lips. In the stillness of your room, you finally admitted the truth you didn’t want to face.

You didn’t want to let him go.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hello! Wow, I am so so sorry that this took forever to get out, I swear my professors have a personal vendetta against students! I was absolutely slammed with assignments and exams this week! Thank you so much for your patience!

Thank you so much for all the support on this fic! I am so so curious to see what you guys think of everything so far! Trust me! The next chapter 👀....

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