The return journey is swift, driven by the increasing discomfort in my chest. It is not pain, exactly, but a burning need, a compulsion that grows stronger with each beat of my dra-kir.
I reach the formation just as the first lights appear in the darkening sky, slipping through the narrow passages with ease despite my burden of fresh-caught prey.
As I approach the chamber, I slow, sensing a change in the air—a shift in humidity, the gentle sound of movement in water. I pause at the entrance, my free hand resting against the cool stone.
Jus-teen is in the pool.
She floats on her back, eyes closed, her strange coverings set aside on the stone edge. The water embraces her, supporting her in a way that seems to ease her pain. Even from here, I can see the tension has left her body, replaced by a calm serenity I have not witnessed since we met.
She is…revealed. Completely. Exposed in a way I have not seen before.
Water sluices down the mounds on her chest, her hips, the dark curls between her thighs. My mouth waters. Within my pouch, my stem jerks so hard it hurts. If I touched her now, I would ruin her. If I tasted her, I would forget mercy.
I should turn away. Should retreat to allow her privacy.
I do none of these things.
Instead, I watch, transfixed, as she moves through the water with slow movements, careful not to splash, to waste a single precious drop. Her skin gleams in the fading light that filters through cracks in the ceiling, droplets clinging to her like tiny stars.
I have always thought water was the most beautiful thing in the dust—clear, vital, sacred. But I was wrong.
It is her.
The hunt slips from my grasp, forgotten, as I step forward. The sound alerts her, and she turns, startled, her eyes finding mine across the chamber.
She does not scream. Does not try to hide. Instead, she watches me with those impossibly blue eyes, her chin lifted slightly, a challenge or an invitation—I cannot tell which.
I move closer, crouching at the edge of the pool, my gaze never leaving hers. Beautiful. She is…beautiful. The water on her. I have never seen a sight more entrancing.
Her eyes lock with mine—steady, unflinching. There’s a challenge there, a daring glint that holds me captive.
I draw in a breath, catching her scent—clean water, and something uniquely hers. Something wild. It stirs a beast deep inside me, a pull I can’t fight, even if I wanted to.
“Rok,” she says, my name soft on her lips, but the sound of it strikes me like a thunderclap. I feel it in my chest, in my blood, a jolt that robs me of sense and reason.
I lean closer, too close. My balance shifts, my weight tipping forward as if I can’t bear the distance between us any longer.
The world tilts.
The cool shock of water engulfs me as I plunge into the pool, the heat of my skin extinguished in an instant. Everything is muffled—except for her laugh. Low, surprised, and undeniably amused.
I break the surface, gasping for air, my hair plastered to my face. She’s there, treading the water beside me, light in her eyes.
“You fell,” she says.
I reach for her, my hands finding her waist, steadying her as the water shifts around us. She is soft beneath my touch, yielding yet strong, a contradiction that fascinates me.
Her hands come to rest against my chest, directly over the place where that strange fire has burned since I left her. At her touch, it transforms, changing from pain to a different kind of heat—intense but pleasant, consuming but welcome.
She looks up at me, water clinging to her face, her lips parted slightly. I remember the sharing of water, the press of her mouth against mine, and suddenly I want nothing more than to experience that again.
I lean down, drawn by a force as inexorable as the pull of Ain’s light. She stiffens for just a moment, surprised perhaps by my boldness, but then she rises to meet me, her lips finding mine in a gesture that is becoming familiar yet remains thrillingly new.
The contact sends a surge through me, the glow beneath my skin brightening until it illuminates the water around us, casting everything in golden light. Her mouth moves against mine, teaching me this strange, intimate language, and I respond eagerly, learning with each passing moment.
This is more than sharing water. This is...connection. Understanding. A bridge across the vast gulf that separates our worlds.
When we finally part, both breathless, the look in her eyes tells me she feels it too—this inexplicable bond, this tether that binds us, that brings me pain when she is not near, that pulls us together across all barriers of language and species.
“Rok,” she whispers again, and in that single syllable, I hear everything I need to know.
The hunt can wait. The danger can wait. The dust and all its threats can wait.
For now, there is only this—her in my arms, her eyes reflecting my glow, her breath mingling with mine in the cool darkness of our sanctuary.
And for the first time since I found her in the dust, I feel truly, completely alive.
Chapter 22
FIVE STARS. WOULD GET KIDNAPPED AGAIN (MAYBE)
JUSTINE
His hands find my waist in the water, strong and sure, and before I can process what’s happening, Rok lifts me. Water streams from my body, cascading back into the pool as he carries me to the edge and sets me down on the cool stone.
The contrast between the stone’s chill and my heated skin sends a shiver through me. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me—eyes luminous in the dim light, pupils dilated, focused on me with an intensity that steals my breath.
“Rok,” I whisper, suddenly aware of my nakedness, of my vulnerability. I should feel embarrassed, exposed. I should reach for my clothes.
I do none of those things.
Instead, I watch, mesmerized, as he pulls himself from the pool in one fluid motion, water sluicing off his golden skin. He crouches before me, his face inches from mine, studying me with that predatory focus that should terrify me but instead sends a thrill of anticipation through my body.
My headache is gone. Completely gone. As if it never existed. The water—there must be something in the water. The same way my fever disappeared when he brought me water before. But instead of relief, I feel…something else. A different kind of heat building inside me, a restlessness that makes me shift on the stone.
Oh no. I cannot be getting horny.
Rok inches closer, his nostrils flaring slightly as if he’s catching my scent. His glow suddenly flares and pulses brighter in the dimness, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the broad expanse of his chest. He reaches for me, one clawed hand hovering just above my shoulder, before he stops.
I should shift away. I should remember all the reasons why this is a terrible idea. I should—
A lump forms in my throat. I swallow it down…and I don’t move.
His hand descends, his touch feather-light as his fingers trace the curve of my shoulder, down my arm, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His expression is one of wonder, of discovery, as if he’s mapping uncharted territory.