She blinks. “Pain?”
My gaze searches hers. “I cannot be far from you, my light. It is impossible for me.”
Her throat moves, and I see confusion in her eyes. I sense it in her mind.
“Last night…” she whispers.
I pull back just enough to meet her gaze, my hands sliding up her sides to cup her small, perfect mounds through the thin fabric of her top. “You showed me the universe,” I finish for her, “and now I will show you mine.”
Her eyes darken, her lips parting as her breath quickens. The scent of her arousal fills my nostrils, and it’s driving me to near madness.
“How soon will we reach your clan?” she asks, even as her hips continue their maddening rhythm against me. “Are you sure they’ll help the others? There are many of us.”
“Many daughters of Ain,” I agree, my hands moving to the band of her strange coverings. I want to feel her skin, all of it, pressed against mine.
She goes still beneath my touch, a strange tension entering her body. Before I know what I did wrong, she looks away, her thoughts suddenly guarded.
“My clan will do anything to keep such treasures safe,” I continue, confused by her reaction. I pull at the thin fabric, revealing more of her pale skin to my hungry gaze. “You are precious to us. To me.”
She shifts off my lap, turning her back to me as she pulls her coverings back into place. Her shoulders slump, and I sense a heaviness in her that wasn’t there before.
I approach her carefully, uncertain what has changed. Have I offended her somehow? Misunderstood a signal? The intricacies of female behavior are unknown to me.
When she turns to face me, there is water in her eyes. Alarm shoots through me. She’s leaking again, as she did when she told me of her missing kin.
“Jus-teen?” I reach for her, my hand hovering uncertainly. “Why leak water? Pain?”
“It’s normal,” she vocalizes, wiping at her eyes. “They’re called tears. It happens when we’re sad or scared or…overwhelmed.”
I cup her face gently, my thumb trying to rub the tear back into her skin. I do not like seeing her body waste water so. Even after so many times, it is alarming. “What makes you sad? Tell me, and I will fix it.”
She laughs, but the sound is hollow, lacking the warmth I’ve come to crave. “You can’t fix this, Rok. Because you think I’m something I’m not.”
I tilt my head, confused. “What do you mean?”
“This planet is filled with danger,” she vocalizes, her voice quiet but steady. “If you’re going to risk your life to take me to my sister, you should at least know the truth.” She takes a deep breath, her hands coming up to rest against my chest. “I’m not a daughter of Ain.”
I am still as I wait for her to explain. Not a daughter of Ain? But she fell from Ain and she is unlike any being I have ever encountered.
Soft. To be worshipped. Just like the beings in those stories of old. The daughters we Drakav cherished.
“I don’t…understand.”
She sighs, moving away to settle near the fire again. “I don’t even know who Ain is, Rok. I’m just…a human woman.” Human? I blink, still struggling to understand. I have never heard of such a tribe or clan before. “I’m from a planet called Earth. I was on a bus—I guess it was a ship—and something went wrong. We crashed here. I’m not special or magical or whatever you think I am. I’m just lost.”
Lost?
No.
She is exactly where she is supposed to be. I know this with every fiber of my being.
I watch her, studying the way the firelight plays across her features. Her strange, rounded ears. Her oddly colored eyes, the soft curve of her mouth. Everything about her is foreign, yes, but also…right. Perfect.
“Ain,” I begin, trying to explain what every youngling in my clan learns from their first conscious moments. “Ain is creator of the dust and sky. Ain is the light that gives us all life. And you…you fell from her. A daughter—”
She shakes her head. “I’m not some special mythical being, Rok. I’m as confused and scared as anyone would be, waking up on a strange planet.”
“But you are,” I insist, moving closer to her. “If not, I would have made the mistake of killing you in the dust. You are mine now. And I am yours. Entangled. Forever.”
Her brow furrows. “What?”
“I cannot exist without you,” I explain, touching her arm gently. “Being away brings pain.”
She stares at me, her expression unreadable. “That’s impossible.”
I take her hand, turning it over in my claw. “This…you…are not like my people. There is something in you, Jus-teen, that is not of the dust. But if you did not come…my existence would have meant nothing.”
“Rok…” she begins, but trails off, uncertainty clear in her voice.
“It does not matter what you call yourself,” I shift, pulling her against my chest. “Daughter of Ain or human female. You are Jus-teen. My Jus-teen.” I press my forehead to hers, wanting her to feel the truth in my thoughts. “And I will protect you. Find your kin. Keep you safe.”
Her thoughts finally open to me again. A tangled web of confusion, fear, and something else—something that makes my chest warm. She’s afraid I’ll reject her now that I know she’s not what I thought. She’s afraid I’ll abandon her in this hostile world.
“Never.” I push the thought hard. “You are mine now. Nothing changes that.”
I feel the moment the tension leaves her body, the way she melts against me, her arms coming up to wrap around my neck.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she whispers against my skin. “I don’t understand any of this. But I know I need you. And that scares me more than anything on this planet.”
I cradle her against me, my hand stroking down her back. “Fear is wise in the dust,” I tell her. “Fear keeps you alive. But fear of me?” I shake my head. “This you do not need. I would die before I let harm come to you.”
She pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, her hands framing my face. “That’s exactly what scares me,” she whispers. “How much I already care about you. How much I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
The admission sends a rush of warmth through my chest. She cares for me. This strange, beautiful creature cares for me.
“We will be careful,” I promise her. “We will reach my clan safely. Find your others. All will be well.”
She nods, but I can sense she doesn’t fully believe me. There’s something else she’s not telling me, some fear she’s holding back.
“What else troubles you?” I ask, brushing her strange, soft fur back from her face.
She hesitates, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “What if…what if your clan doesn’t believe I’m just a human? What if they think I’m this daughter of Ain? What will they expect from me?”
I consider this, knowing the reverence with which my people view the tale. “They will be curious,” I admit. “They will want to see your light, hear your knowledge. But they will not harm you.”