“Come, sit down and eat with me.”

Rowan leaned back in his chair, patting the seat opposite him. His tone carried no sharpness, only quiet command.

Wanda hesitated only for a moment before walking over on bare feet.

It was then Rowan noticed she wasn’t wearing slippers.

He remembered the entrance clearly. Two pairs of women’s slippers sat neatly by the door, but both belonged to Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff. Wanda, still new here, hadn’t dared to claim them without his permission.

A faint smile curved Rowan’s lips. That sort of awareness pleased him. Already she carried the quiet attentiveness of a maid who knew her place.

Wanda was just about to sit in the chair across from him when Rowan suddenly shifted his own seat back and patted his thigh.

“Not there. Here.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

The tips of her ears burned scarlet. For a long moment she stood frozen, staring at him as if she hadn’t heard right. But something had changed inside her since last night, something subtle yet undeniable. To her own surprise, she didn’t resist. Her lips parted, she hesitated, then lowered herself carefully onto his lap, her cheeks blazing crimson.

Breakfast suddenly became more than just food.

Rowan ate slowly, deliberately, spending nearly half an hour guiding Wanda through the motions of what it meant to serve him. How to pour, how to offer, how to anticipate without waiting for orders. Every instruction was carried out with awkward obedience, and though her face was red enough to drip blood, she never refused.

When the plates were finally cleared, Wanda knelt gracefully beside him, leaning against his thigh as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Rowan studied her with quiet amusement. Only a single night had passed, and yet her obedience had grown so much. He hadn’t expected her to adapt so quickly.

At this rate, he thought, it wouldn’t take long before Wanda was molded entirely to his rhythm, shaped to fit him.

And the irony was, he hadn’t needed to force anything.

This was Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch one of the most powerful women Earth would ever know. For someone like her to sit here obediently at his feet, docile and unresisting, was no small feat.

Rowan reached down, gently tilting her chin between his fingers. “Wanda. I’ll be away for a while. You’re coming with me.”

Her voice was soft. “Where are we going, Master?”

Emerald eyes shimmered beneath a curtain of auburn hair, her expression more like a timid kitten than a feared sorceress.

He had already explained how she was to address him: in public, she should call him Boss. In private, with no one else around, she should call him Master. She had remembered.

Rowan’s eyes darkened slightly. “We’re leaving Earth. I’m taking you into the cosmos.”

“Into… space?”

Her shock was immediate. Though Earth had endured alien invasions, the idea that Rowan would personally lead her beyond the atmosphere was something she had never imagined.

“You don’t want to go?” he asked mildly, fingers pinching her cheek, savoring the softness of her skin.

She shook her head quickly, pressing her face into his palm like it was an anchor. “No. I want to go, Master.”

He nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Don’t worry about your brother. Pietro will be fine. Turk still has the Water of Life.”

The mention eased the knot in her chest. She clung tighter to his leg, relief washing through her.

He demanded obedience, yes, but he was not unfeeling. He noticed her fears, cared enough to soothe them. For a girl who had lost her parents young and wandered rootless through the world, this control wasn’t oppression. It was comfort. It was the very thing she had craved.

Rowan pulled out his communicator and called Sharon Carter, giving instructions and arranging tasks for the next few weeks. His journey into space would take at least half a month.

There were two reasons for leaving Earth now.

The first was strategic: he wanted to intercept Peter Quill, Star-Lord, before anyone else did.

The second was survival: it was time to disappear.

The Ancient One’s time was nearly over. Doctor Stephen Strange, her chosen successor, was already walking his destined path. And when the Ancient One fell, she would not go quietly. She was a being of unimaginable power, a sorcerer who commanded the Time Stone itself. Rowan had no interest in being anywhere near her final moments.

The same went for Odin. The All-Father’s end was approaching, and Rowan wanted no part in the affairs of a god who had lived hundreds of thousands of years and could erase him with a thought.

Best, then, to vanish into the stars until the storm had passed.

After finishing his call with Sharon, Rowan sent short messages to Maria Hill and Natasha as well, informing them that he would be “in seclusion” for a time. Then he touched the communicator embedded in his wrist.

“Aurora,” he said evenly, “come pick us up.”

Within seconds, the cheerful voice of the ship’s AI replied. “On my way, Boss!”

Moments later, the villa shook as seawater split apart. A sleek, silver, disc-shaped vessel surged from the depths, hovering majestically above the waves.

Wanda gasped, pressing both hands against the glass door. Her eyes shone with wonder at the sight of the futuristic craft. At only eighteen, the idea of boarding a starship that could leave Earth overwhelmed her.

Rowan slipped an arm around her waist. “Come.”

They rose into the air together, guided by his telekinetic force, drifting into the open hatch as the ship welcomed them aboard.

“Welcome home, Boss!” Aurora’s voice rang with excitement.

Rowan smirked faintly. Shuri had designed this AI well loyal, adaptable, and lively.

“And welcome, Miss Wanda,” Aurora added warmly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Ah… hello,” Wanda stammered, startled by the courtesy. She wasn’t used to being addressed with respect. After all, hadn’t she just been kneeling at Rowan’s feet minutes ago?

Rowan said nothing, but in his mind he approved. To him, Wanda might belong in private, but to the outside world, respect was non-negotiable.

He settled into the captain’s chair. “Aurora. Set course for Morag.”

“Coordinates locked. Distance: one hundred and thirty thousand light-years. Five space jumps required. Estimated travel time: three days.”

Rowan nodded. “Do it.”

The engines roared to life. The ship surged upward, breaking through the atmosphere in a single sweep.

“Ah!” Wanda cried out as the acceleration nearly flung her backward.

Rowan caught her instantly, psychic force curling around her waist to pull her back into his lap. She landed against his chest, trembling.

Her fear melted quickly into warmth. His arms tightened around her, and her heartbeat thundered, sending heat coursing through her body like a tide. Without thinking, she slipped her hands around his waist, clinging tighter.

Outside the viewport, Earth shrank behind them, a glowing marble of blue and green adrift in a sea of black.

Wanda’s breath caught. From this vantage, her home was breathtaking. Fragile. Alive.

And for the first time, she understood just how vast the universe truly was.

She should have been afraid. The dark emptiness beyond the stars was heavy, lonely, endless. But in Rowan’s arms, fear gave way to awe.

As long as he held her, she wasn’t afraid of anything.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep