The days that followed felt like an unending cycle of tension and forced tranquility. Maya had become accustomed to the cold, towering presence of Zayed, though she still struggled with the suffocating grip he had on her life. Every moment spent in his presence only reminded her that she was no longer in control of her destiny.

In the mornings, she would wander the palace, the vast corridors stretching endlessly before her, but she always felt his eyes on her, watching, waiting for her next move. The servants would smile at her with cautious deference, as if they knew what she was beginning to understand—that Zayed’s word was law, and no one dared cross him. She was now the queen, but the power that title should have offered felt more like a gilded cage.

Today, as Maya stood before the window, gazing out at the sprawling gardens below, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It was a suffocating feeling, the weight of his gaze pressing against her skin, even though Zayed wasn’t physically present in the room.

She heard the door open behind her, and without turning, she knew it was him. The air shifted when he entered, thick with his commanding presence. He didn’t need to announce himself. He never did.

“Still avoiding me, Maya?” Zayed’s voice was quiet, but the hint of amusement made her skin prickle.

Maya remained facing the window, her heart pounding. “I’m not avoiding you.”

There was a brief silence, and then Zayed’s shadow fell across her, his tall frame coming into her peripheral vision. She didn’t move, though she felt the heat of his body drawing closer. His hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder, the contact sending a tremor through her.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing against the fabric of her dress.

Maya inhaled sharply, her pulse racing at the proximity. “I’m not afraid of you,” she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zayed stepped closer, his hand sliding down to her waist, his grip firm but not quite threatening. “Then why are you still standing so far from me?”

She swallowed hard, her breath hitching. There was something about the way he touched her, the way his presence seemed to devour the space between them, that unsettled her. It wasn’t just power—it was possession, the way he claimed every part of her, body and soul.

“I’m not some trophy to be paraded around,” Maya said, trying to push away the unease that twisted in her stomach.

Zayed’s gaze darkened, his grip tightening just a fraction. “You are not a trophy. You are my queen. And I will not let anyone treat you like anything less.”

His words were possessive, absolute. They left no room for argument. But Maya was determined to maintain some semblance of control over her life.

“You don’t get to decide what I am,” she replied, her voice stronger than she felt.

A flash of something dark flickered in his eyes. For a moment, Maya thought he might lash out, but instead, he stepped back, his hand falling from her waist. The tension between them was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. But then, just as quickly as the tension had risen, Zayed exhaled and offered her a small, almost imperceptible smile.

“You will learn, Maya,” he said quietly. “In time, you will understand why I do this. Why I claim what is mine.”

She wanted to argue, to tell him that she didn’t want to be claimed, but the words stuck in her throat. Deep down, she knew the truth—she wasn’t ready to give up yet, but she wasn’t sure how long she could keep fighting him.

Zayed tilted his head slightly, studying her. “You’re still not ready to accept your place, but that will change. It’s only a matter of time.”

Maya met his gaze, her chest tight with conflicting emotions. “I’m not your property, Zayed.”

Zayed’s expression shifted to something colder, more intense. “You are mine. And I will make sure you understand that soon enough.”

The finality in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. He was so certain, so unwavering in his belief that she belonged to him, that it almost felt inevitable. It was as if he had already marked her, and there was no escape.

Before she could respond, Zayed turned on his heel and walked toward the door. “I have business to attend to. Don’t leave this room,” he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Maya stood rooted to the spot, her thoughts swirling in a storm of confusion, anger, and something else she couldn’t quite name. She wanted to defy him, to walk out of this gilded cage and never look back. But with each passing day, it felt like the walls were closing in tighter. And in some twisted way, she wasn’t sure if she was trying to escape or if she was already being pulled into the very world he had created for her.