The moonlight bathed the palace in silver, its glow casting long shadows across the grand chambers. Maya lay in the silk-draped bed, staring at the ceiling. Her body ached with a mix of longing and tension—desire for him, fear of what would happen if she gave in fully.

Zayed had always been a man of control, a man who never showed weakness, whose every movement and command were wrapped in power. But with her, it was different. He was different.

She could feel his presence even now, though he wasn’t physically with her. It was like a constant pull, something magnetic that kept her heart tied to him, even when her mind told her to be cautious.

The door creaked open, and she didn’t need to look to know who it was.

Zayed.

His shadow loomed in the doorway, tall and imposing, his gaze immediately fixing on her. She could sense his scrutiny, feel his eyes roving over her as if he were cataloging her every feature, every movement.

She looked at him, her pulse quickening. “Zayed…”

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” he said, stepping forward, his voice low, yet carrying a weight that made her heart race. “I asked if you understand your place in my life.”

Maya swallowed. The weight of his words hung heavily between them, a constant reminder of their unspoken power struggle. She was his. But was she ready to give him all of her?

“I do,” she whispered. “I understand.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but she saw the slight tightening of his jaw. Zayed approached the bed, his steps measured and deliberate. Every movement of his was calculated, every action wrapped in a quiet authority. And yet, his eyes—their intensity—betrayed something softer, something raw.

“You are mine,” he murmured, his fingers reaching out to trace the line of her jaw, his touch so light it was almost a caress. “In every way. And the sooner you accept that, the sooner you will stop trying to fight it.”

Maya’s breath caught in her throat. “I’m not fighting you, Zayed.”

“No?” His lips twitched into a smile, but it wasn’t a smile of amusement. It was a smile that spoke of control. “Then why do you still hesitate? Why do you still question?”

Maya met his gaze, not backing down. “I don’t question us. I’m just trying to understand what this is—what you want from me.”

Zayed’s hand slid from her jaw to the side of her neck, his thumb gently tracing her skin. His touch was both tender and commanding, a perfect blend of affection and ownership.

“I want all of you, Maya. I want every piece of you. Your thoughts, your heart, your body,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. “And I will make sure you want the same from me.”

She shivered at his words, her pulse thudding in her chest. There was no escape. Not from him. Not from the force of his presence.

She closed her eyes, feeling the heat of his body so close to hers. There was a part of her that wanted to pull away, to keep some distance. But another part, a stronger part, wanted to give in—to let him consume her completely.

Zayed bent down, his lips grazing her ear. “You are not like the others. You’re not someone I can just claim and let go. You will stay with me. You will learn to love me, just as I’ve learned to love you.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his, seeing the truth in his eyes. Zayed wasn’t just claiming her for now; he was marking her for the future. There was no escaping him, not in body, not in soul.

Maya reached out, placing her hand on his chest. Her touch was tentative, unsure, but Zayed didn’t flinch. Instead, he took her hand and pressed it harder against him, the heat of his skin seeping into hers.

“You want me,” he said, his voice dark with a growing need. “I know it. But the question is, do you want me enough to surrender to me completely?”

Her breath hitched. “Zayed…”

He interrupted her, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was both gentle and fierce. The kiss deepened quickly, and Maya found herself melting into him, her body reacting to his dominance, to the passion he was unleashing in her. His hands were everywhere—on her waist, her back, pulling her closer, until there was no space left between them.

Zayed’s lips trailed down to her neck, his mouth hot against her skin. She gasped, her hands threading through his hair as she tilted her head back, giving him more access. She wanted this. Needed it.

And still, she couldn’t fully let go.

He sensed it immediately, his lips pausing at the base of her throat. “You’re still holding back,” he murmured. “Why?”

Maya’s hands clenched on the sheets, her breath ragged. “Because I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?” He pulled back slightly, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. His eyes were hard, but there was something else there too—something raw. “Afraid of what?”

“I’m afraid of losing myself,” she whispered. “Of losing who I am in all of this.”

Zayed’s gaze softened, and he brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “Maya, you will never lose yourself. Not with me. I’ll never let you go. And you will never be anything less than the queen you are.”

Her heart raced at the depth of his words, but she still wasn’t sure—wasn’t sure if she could give up her independence completely, even if it meant being loved by him.

“I don’t want to give up who I am,” she said softly.

Zayed studied her for a moment, and then his lips curled into a slow smile. “I never asked you to give it up. But you have to learn that I am the one who will always come first. I will take what I want. And you will want to give it to me.”

He kissed her again, a kiss so deep and passionate that Maya had no choice but to lose herself in him. She kissed him back with everything she had, her body reacting to the heat of his touch, the possessiveness in his every move.

Zayed’s hands roamed over her body, tracing the curves that he had already claimed. He pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with a possessive gaze.

“I will never let another man touch you, Maya. You are mine. And when you are ready, I will show you just how much.”

Maya’s chest rose and fell with every breath she took, her heart pounding in her ears. This was no longer just about physical desire. This was about something deeper—something that consumed her, something she was starting to want as badly as he wanted her.

She reached up, touching his face, her thumb running over the sharp lines of his jaw. “I’m ready,” she whispered.

And with that, Zayed claimed her.

But not just her body.

Her heart.

Her soul.