We cannot stay here. The fire blooms are nearly gone, and without water, neither of us will survive much longer. I must hunt. Must find sustenance. But I cannot leave her.
There is only one solution.
With a gentle motion, I adjust my hold on her, lifting her against my chest as I stand. She murmurs something, nestling closer, but does not fully wake.
I move toward the cave entrance, pausing only to scan the horizon for immediate threats. The dust stretches out before me, golden and deceptively peaceful in Ain’s fading light. In the distance, a whirlwind spins lazily, picking up dust and carrying it skyward.
I step out of the cave’s protection, Jus-teen cradled securely in my arms. The pain in my chest remains blissfully absent as long as she is with me. Carrying her like this will make hunting more difficult—impossible to move with my usual speed and stealth—but there is no choice.
We will find water together or perish together in the attempt.
As I begin the long trek toward the distant hidden spring, a flicker of movement catches my eye—something on the horizon, fast-moving, kicking up dust in its wake.
Not a whirlwind. Not a natural phenomenon.
Hunters. Coming this way.
And from their trajectory, I know with grim certainty—they are not of my clan.
Chapter 20
IS IT TOO LATE TO FILE A WORKER’S COMP CLAIM?
JUSTINE
The headache hits me like a sledgehammer.
One moment I’m talking to Rok, trying to convince myself (and him) that I’m strong enough to travel, and the next I’m curled against the cave wall, my skull feeling like it might split open. Light becomes my enemy, sound an assault, and all I want to do is curl into nothingness until the pain subsides. I press my forehead to the cool stone, willing the pain to recede.
Then the world tilts.
Heat pools low in my belly. Sudden and damn near impossible to ignore. Rok’s hands are everywhere, leaving trails of fire across my skin. “Mine,” he snarls against my throat, and my back arches, offering myself. His mouth seals over my nipple, sucking hard, and I cry out—
I jolt awake, gasping. My thighs are clenched, my pulse hammering in places it shouldn’t be. The cave is silent except for Rok’s steady breathing nearby.
Fuck.
Did I just…? I squeeze my eyes shut, mortified. The dream clings like sweat, too vivid to dismiss. Rok’s hands. His teeth. The way he’d looked at me before I was jolted from the dream…
And now here I am, throbbing because of him, while he stands guard like some unshakable sentinel.
This planet is messing with me.
The headache must be doing something worse than I thought. Or maybe it’s the alien plants. Or the way Rok’s bare chest gleams in the light, muscles shifting as he—
Nope. Not going there.
I’ve had migraines before—who hasn’t?—but this is different. More intense. More…consuming. I have no other logical choice but to attribute it to heat exhaustion, dehydration, the trauma of the crash, and the stress of being stranded, my only company a glowing alien guy that I kissed! I mean, really, what’s one more physical malfunction at this point?
I try not to fall asleep again. Having wet dreams when in dire circumstances isn’t in any survival manual I’ve ever read. All I can do is clench my teeth and fight the pain in my skull.
I’m vaguely aware of Rok giving me something to eat—one of those strange plants that taste like lettuce soaked in lemon juice and pepper—before I rest some more, promising myself it will just be for a minute or two.
The next thing I know, I’m moving.
Not under my own power, but cradled against something warm and solid. Rok. He’s carrying me again.
I crack an eye open, immediately regretting it as harsh light stabs into my retina like a needle. I snap it shut again, burying my face against his chest to escape the brightness.
“Where—?” My voice is a raspy whisper. “What’s happening?”
No answer, of course. Not that I expected one.
I try opening my eyes again, this time more gradually, squinting through my lashes. We’re moving—Rok carrying me in his arms—but not quickly. Not with his usual efficient stride that eats up the desert terrain. He’s being…cautious. That’s the only way I can describe it. Tense. Cautious. Slinking along what looks like the shadow of the massive stone formation, his back pressed against the rock face.
And then I notice something extraordinary: his skin, which normally glows with that unearthly golden light, has changed. It’s taken on the exact color and texture of the stone behind him—a perfect camouflage that would make him nearly invisible to anyone not being carried in his arms.
Despite my throbbing head, I can’t help but stare. How many other abilities has he been hiding? What else can he do?
The thought ‘full of surprises’ has barely formed in my mind when he glances down, meets my gaze, and his hand clamps over my mouth—firmly but not painfully. I’ve been here before. The gesture is clear: be silent.
My eyes widen, adrenaline instantly cutting through the fog of pain. My body tenses, every sense suddenly on high alert despite my pounding head. I scan the landscape, searching for whatever threat has triggered his response.
Nothing. Just rock and sand and the vast, empty desert stretching toward the horizon.
I look up at Rok, a question in my eyes, and what I see sends a chill through me. His expression is tight, focused, deadly—the same look he wore when facing down those shadow creatures. His nostrils flare slightly, scenting the air, and his eyes never stop moving, tracking…something.
And then I hear it. Not with my ears, but inside my head, clear as crystal. Clearer than ever before:
“Danger.”
His lips haven’t moved. Not a single sound has escaped him. But I heard it—felt it rather—it’s weird…hard to describe.
Or maybe it’s just my instincts kicking in. My subconscious?
Danger. But where?
I want to ask. Want to ask what kind, how many—but I know better than to make a sound. If it’s more of those shadow creatures, we’re in serious trouble. Rok is still injured from our last encounter, and I’m…well, I’m a liability at best. I can barely lift my head without wincing, let alone run or fight.
Rok continues his slow backward creep, pressing us deeper into the shadow of the rock formation. His muscles are coiled tight, ready to spring, but there’s something else in his posture—something I haven’t seen before. Uncertainty? Fear? No, not quite fear, but…caution. Extreme caution.
Suddenly he crouches, pulling me tight against his chest as he turns me to the stone and goes completely still. Not just still—frozen, like he’s become part of the stone itself. And he’s blocking me. Hiding me with his body since I have no camouflage of my own.
His breathing slows to almost nothing, and the camouflage effect intensifies until I can barely distinguish where his skin ends and the rock begins.