The days blurred together in a haze of lavish meals, whispered conversations in the halls, and the ever-present weight of Zayed’s gaze. Maya had never felt so conflicted in her life. The more she resisted, the more Zayed seemed determined to pull her deeper into his world—a world where he held all the power and she was nothing more than his possession.

But something had shifted in the days since their confrontation in the gardens. There was a stillness in the air around her, a quiet unease that she couldn’t shake. The palace felt different, the silence deafening as she navigated the grand halls. It was as if the walls themselves were watching her, waiting for her to make a decision, but the truth was that she had no control over what was happening. Zayed had already made that clear.

She was his.

But the more she spent time in his presence, the more she wondered if that claim was as suffocating as it felt, or if there was something more to it. She couldn't help but wonder if Zayed’s possessiveness was rooted in something deeper than just control. His coldness, his intensity—it was all so consuming, and yet, it was almost as though he was fighting with himself, too.

She found herself in the royal courtyard late in the evening, her eyes tracing the outline of the horizon where the desert met the sky. The air was warm but carried a coolness with the approaching night. Maya let out a breath, trying to steady her nerves. She was alone—something she hadn’t experienced in days. But even in solitude, she couldn't escape the feeling of being watched.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. Her pulse quickened, and she turned just as Zayed emerged from the shadows. His expression was unreadable, but the air around him was thick with authority.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “This is not a place for a queen to wander alone.”

Maya held her ground, despite the sudden rush of tension that gripped her chest. “I’m not your prisoner, Zayed.”

He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing, and the space between them seemed to shrink in an instant. The calmness of the night only made the charge between them feel more intense. “You are mine, Maya. And if you think you can keep running from that, you are mistaken.”

She clenched her fists at her sides, trying to hold onto the fragments of control she had left. “You think you can own me, control me. You don’t get to do that.”

Zayed’s gaze flickered with something darker—something possessive—and in that moment, Maya realized that there was more than just power in his eyes. There was desire. And it was more than she could handle.

“I don’t want to control you, Maya,” he murmured, his voice softer now, though still full of authority. “I want you to accept what we are. You and I—together. As it was always meant to be.”

Before she could respond, Zayed reached out, his hand brushing against her cheek, his touch firm but gentle. The warmth of his skin sent a jolt of heat through her, and Maya felt herself tremble under his touch.

“I didn’t ask for this either,” he continued, his thumb gently tracing her jawline. “But fate brought us together. And you will not escape it.”

Maya’s heart raced, a dangerous mix of anger and something else—something she couldn’t quite identify. She pulled away from him, shaking her head. “Fate? You call this fate? This... this prison?”

Zayed’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. For a moment, he said nothing, as if contemplating his next move. Then, without warning, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with an iron grip. He pulled her closer, his lips mere inches from hers.

“You are my queen,” he growled softly, the words like a possessive command. “And I will make sure you understand what that means. No one, not even you, will deny what we are.”

Maya’s breath caught in her throat as the intensity of his words hit her like a wave. There was no escape. She could fight him, resist him, but the truth was—she was already bound to him. And part of her wondered if she had ever really been free in the first place.

Zayed’s eyes softened just slightly, the storm within them shifting for a moment. “I won’t hurt you, Maya. Not in the way you fear. But I will claim you, in every way that matters.”

Her pulse raced at the implication of his words, her body betraying her as it responded to the raw power in his voice, the heat radiating from his body. She was torn—repelled by his arrogance, yet drawn to the fire that burned beneath his cold exterior. It was a dangerous game he was playing, and she was caught in the middle of it, unable to break free.

“I will never belong to you,” she whispered, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to stay strong.

Zayed’s lips curled into a faint, cold smile. “You already do.”

Before she could say anything else, he released her wrist and turned away, his back to her now. “The palace will be prepared for our union soon,” he said, his voice casual but carrying an undeniable authority. “You will be ready. And when that time comes, you will stand beside me as my queen, as you were always meant to.”

Maya stood frozen, her mind whirling with everything that had just transpired. His words echoed in her ears—You already do.

There was no escape from him. No escape from the life he had set for her.

But even as she stood there, facing the man who would claim her in every way possible, Maya couldn't help but wonder: what if there was more to this than just control? What if, somewhere beneath his icy exterior, Zayed felt something more for her than just obsession?

But that was a question she would never ask aloud.