Maya had barely slept the night before. The pain in her palm had kept her restless, but it was the constant presence of Zayed beside her that kept her awake.

His worry was tangible, a storm that swirled in the silence between them.

He hadn’t left her side once after the injury. His commands to the servants had been harsh, swift—doctors were summoned, the finest bandages brought in, and the courtyard… torn apart. She had heard the sound of destruction far below her window, and each crash felt like the pounding of his heartbeat.

By the morning, she had been moved from the palace courtyard to Zayed’s private chambers—her new room, she realized, was now his room.

Not just any room. His sanctuary.

She sat in the massive bed, her bandaged hand resting on the silk sheets. Zayed stood by the window, staring at the sprawling garden below. His back was stiff, and his jaw clenched as he surveyed the palace grounds like a lion eyeing its prey.

But when he turned toward her, his gaze softened—only just.

“How does it feel?” he asked, though his eyes were clouded with something far deeper than concern.

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay.” She tried to smile, but the way he watched her—like a hawk circling its prey—made it impossible to ignore how tightly he held onto her every movement.

“You should stay in bed.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Zayed, I’m not fragile. It was a minor injury.”

Zayed’s steps were measured as he crossed the room, stopping just beside the bed. His gaze softened again—only for a heartbeat, before the darkness returned.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, each word heavy, filled with a possessiveness that burned.

Maya swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of his words.

“But I didn’t mean to make you worry this much,” she said, leaning back against the pillows. “It was just an accident.”

He sat beside her, his arm stretching across the bed as he rested his hand gently beside hers, careful not to touch the bandaged wound.

“There are no accidents when it comes to you, Maya,” he said, his voice low. “You belong to me. Everything that happens to you—happens to me.”

Her heart fluttered at the intensity in his words.

She shifted, finally meeting his eyes. “Zayed… this—what we’re doing… the way you are with me… I know it’s not just about love.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his thumb brushed against her wrist—the one that wasn’t injured. His touch was possessive, but there was something else in it. Something that spoke of longing, of fear, of something far deeper than control.

“You want the truth?” Zayed’s voice was barely a breath. “I fear losing you. I fear that one day you’ll realize you don’t need me. That you’ll escape me.”

Maya’s heart thudded harder, her breath catching in her throat. "Zayed, I—"

He cut her off. “No, Maya. Listen to me.” He leaned closer, his lips hovering just above her ear. “You are my queen. But I am the one who is terrified of being left behind. I will not let anything happen to you. Ever again. You will not leave me. Do you understand?”

She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his words sink into her very soul.

“Zayed… I’m not going anywhere. I promised you that,” she whispered.

For the first time, he smiled—not the cold, calculating smile of the Sheikh. No. This was different. It was soft. It was something more.

“You’re mine, Maya. Forever.”

And in that moment, Maya realized just how much the Sheikh had already claimed her heart—not with his power or obsession, but with the rawness of his emotions. He was terrified. Broken in his own way. But she knew he would never let her go.