Текст книги "Roks captive"

Автор книги: A.G. Wilde

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

Chapter 19

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THAT WAS WEIRD. WANT TO DO IT AGAIN

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ROK

She is in pain.

Not the obvious agony of a claw wound or the burning torture of shadowmaw venom, but something quieter, deeper, more insidious. I can see it in the way she winces when she opens her eyes, in how she presses her fingertips to her temples, in the tight lines around her mouth.

Jus-teen has retreated to the far side of the cave, where the shadows are thickest, away from the shaft of Ain’s light that pierces through the cave’s opening. She leans against the cool stone wall, eyes closed more often than open, her breathing shallow but controlled.

A daughter of Ain, hiding from Ain’s gaze. It makes no sense, yet I have learned to accept that little about this strange female follows the patterns I understand.

I remain near the cave entrance, keeping watch for dangers that might approach. The shadowmaws will not return—not after I left their pack decimated in the dust—but there are other threats. Dust serpents that can sense movement from beneath the sand. Sandfins that follow the scent of blood. And always, the rival clans, who would see a lone Drakav and his…companion…as easy targets.

My gaze shifts to her again.

Her vocalizations are soft, strained, the tone revealing her discomfort. “This is ridiculous,” she says, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. “Just a stupid headache. I should be stronger than this.”

I watch her struggle to sit up straighter, wincing again as the motion seems to intensify whatever pain grips her.

“We should be moving,” she continues, gesturing weakly toward the cave entrance. “Finding water. Finding my sister. Not…sitting here because my head feels like it’s going to explode.”

She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Rok. I’m slowing us down. Just…give me a little longer, okay? Then we can go.”

I move toward her, plucking another fire bloom leaf from the crevice where they grow. These particular blooms are nearly depleted—we have taken much from them for our healing—but they will recover in time. The dust provides for those who respect its ways.

Carefully, I use a claw to strip away the tiny spines that line the leaf’s edges, removing anything that might harm her delicate skin. When it is safe, I offer it to her, crouching beside her with the leaf extended on my palm.

She looks at it, then at me, a small baring of her teeth despite her obvious discomfort. I bare mine back in this custom we’ve developed.

“More of your wonder plant?” she vocalizes, taking it from my hand. “I guess it can’t hurt.”

She takes a few bites, chewing slowly, grimacing at the bitter taste but forcing herself to swallow. After several mouthfuls, she sets the remainder aside and lies down, curling on her side, one arm braced beneath her head.

“Just for a moment,” she murmurs, her eyes already closing. “Just…need to rest…”

I watch her as she drifts into a light sleep, her breathing evening out, some of the tension easing from her face. The fire bloom will help, though perhaps not as quickly as it does for a Drakav. Her body is different, processes things differently. But it should provide some relief, some restoration.

And yet, as I watch over her, I become aware of something strange within myself. A sensation I cannot name, cannot identify from all my cycles of experience in the dust. Despite having consumed many fire bloom leaves to speed my own healing, there is something…off. Something altered in my system.

I do not know what.

My gaze returns to Jus-teen, drawn to her, as it has been since the moment I found her in the dust.

Everything has changed since finding her. Xiraxis has shifted, rearranged itself around her presence. And now that she has shared water with me…

Dust.

She shared water with me in the most peculiar way. Her lips against mine, a touch I had never felt before, soft yet firm, warm yet unlike any warmth I have known.

My claw rises to my lips, tracing the outline where she touched me. A shadow memory of contact that my body refuses to forget. Her tongue touching my mouth with just a taste of her water from within—but it was enough to send my systems into disarray. The glow beneath my skin had pulsed wildly, uncontrollably, lighting the cave as if all three moons shone at once. Even now, solmarks later, the memory causes the glow to flicker and surge.

I do not know why I can no longer control my glow. Worse, I do not know why she decided to share water in such a manner. It is not a thing we Drakav do.

I only know that I want her to do it again.

I want to feel it again.

But I worry for her, for how much water she has left to spare. She lost so much from her eyes—those strange, clear drops that fell like precious moisture wasted. I still do not understand why her body does these things, why it doesn’t perform the most basic function of any desert creature: conserve water at all costs.

Either way, it does not matter. I will find more water for her. That is what a hunter does—provides for those under his protection. And that means I will have to leave the safety of the cave, venture out into the dust where the water-bearing plants grow deep.

I rise from my crouch, moving toward the cave entrance. Ain is past her zenith now, beginning her slow descent toward the horizon. I can move quickly, gather what we need, and return before the worst dangers of dusk begin to stir.

I glance back at Jus-teen, still resting in the shadows. She should be safe here. This was once a resting cave. One me and my brothers used. We smeared the scent of sandfins near the entrance. A scent that still lingers. No other creatures will come near.

But…

As I step toward the entrance, preparing to leave, I stop short. Like a hook embedded in my chest pulling me backward, I return to Jus-teen’s side.

Strange.

I try again, but this time, with each step away from her, the feeling intensifies, a growing pain that has no source I can identify. I check my chest, but there is no wound.

“Must be the beginnings of mind sickness.” I should not make such a joke. Mind sickness is truly debilitating.

I cannot imagine not being able to communicate with my clan. To be shut out. To lose the single thing that would keep me connected to⁠—

I freeze, understanding flooding through me like fresh water.

Jus-teen. The strange stone in her ear. The one I destroyed.

I did not understand her words when I crushed it, but I understood her eyes. The hurt. The despair. The fury. A storm of emotions raged across her face, all because of what I did.

The stone spoke in vocalizations like hers. Was that stone her connection? Was it communicating with her? And did I…destroy her hopes of this communication?

The thought settles like a boulder in my gut. I have lived my entire life connected to my clan through mind-speak, never truly alone, even when physically separated. But she—she is utterly isolated. The lone daughter of Ain. Dropped on a world with creatures she cannot speak to.

And I made it worse.

I still do not trust that ear stone. Still believe it was dangerous, unnatural. But I regret the pain I saw in her eyes. I regret causing her more suffering when she has already endured so much.

The memory of the water flowing freely from her eyes…I do not want to see such a sight again. Anything to prevent that.

I must make amends. Must hunt for her, bring her better nourishment than fire blooms, find water to replace what she has lost. Show her through actions what I cannot tell her through vocalizations or mind speak.

I turn back to the cave entrance, determined now, but the pain in my chest immediately flares again—sharper, more insistent, demanding I return to her side.

Cursed dust.

I pause at the cave entrance and look back again. She has not moved, has not awakened. But the pain grows more intense with each beat of my dra-kir.

This is…not normal. Not right. I am a scout and a hunter. I leave the clan caves for sols, sometimes several at a time, tracking prey across the vast dust. I have never felt this…tether before. This invisible vine binding me to another being. Not even to my brothers.

I try again, forcing myself to take another step into the dust. The pain sears, white-hot now, making my nostrils flare, and the glow beneath my skin rises and flickers erratically.

I try to dim it. My skin does not listen to me.

My gaze shifts back to the female. I…cannot leave her.

I return to the cave, moving silently to her side, and without conscious decision, I find myself sinking down beside her. Carefully, mindful of her delicate form, I gather her into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I did when carrying her through the dust.

The moment she is against me, the pain vanishes. Just…gone, as if it never existed, replaced by a sense of rightness, of completion, that I have never known before.

She stirs slightly, her face pressing against my chest, but does not wake. Her breath is warm against my skin, her dra-kir beating a quick, light rhythm I can feel through the thin hide she wears.

What is this? What is happening to me?

I have no answers, only questions that pile like dust in a storm, swirling and obscuring any clarity I might find. All I know with certainty is that I cannot leave her, cannot be separated from her without experiencing that strange, pulling pain.

She shifts in my arms, murmuring something in her sleep, her hand coming up to rest against my chest, directly over the place where that strange pain had centered. The glow beneath my skin pulses gently beneath her palm, responding to her touch again without my input.

I sit with her like this for what feels like an eternity, watching her breathe, feeling the warmth of her against me, trying to understand this new reality in which I find myself bound.

The light in the cave shifts as Ain continues her journey across the sky. Soon, it will be dusk. The most dangerous time in the dust, when the day hunters return to their dens and the night predators emerge, hungry for the first meal of their waking hours.

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.

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Chapter 20

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IS IT TOO LATE TO FILE A WORKER’S COMP CLAIM?

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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.

I’m curled awkwardly in his arms, my face pressed against his shoulder, but I manage to twist just enough to peer under his arm at whatever has him so alarmed.

At first, I see nothing. Just a ridge of stone maybe a hundred feet away, its surface rippling with heat waves in the desert sun.

I think maybe I’m looking in the wrong direction, but I have no choice, so I keep staring, hoping that whatever’s got Rok so tense will leave. For minutes, he holds me like that, barely breathing when suddenly, there’s movement.

A figure vaults atop the ridge with fluid grace, landing in a half-crouch before straightening to its full height.

My breath catches in my throat.

It’s…like Rok. But not Rok, obviously. Male, tall, powerfully built, with the same general physiology—the elongated limbs, the distinctive facial structure, the claws. But where Rok’s coloring is golden, this one’s skin is a deeper, darker bronze. His hair is shorter, too, a shade closer to copper than gold.

Staring at this newcomer, I’m struck by a sudden, uncomfortable realization: Rok is terrifying. Or he should be. He’s massive, powerful, decidedly non-human, with claws that could disembowel me without effort and strength that makes my own feel laughably insignificant. Yet somehow, I’ve…never seen him that way. Not even at the start. Somewhere between him saving me from the sand and me kissing him in the cave, he stopped being “alien” and started being just…Rok.

But this one—this stranger staring out across the desert with chilling intensity—he radiates danger in a way that makes my instincts scream. There’s nothing I can point to specifically, nothing I can articulate, but something about him feels…wrong. Hostile. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and my heart hammers against my ribs with such force I’m certain it must be audible.

Is this another member of Rok’s tribe? His clan? I don’t think so. Not with the way Rok is hiding from him, concealing both of us in the shadow of the rock, his body positioned to shield me completely.

The stranger moves along the ridge, his movements fluid and powerful, scanning the terrain. Like Rok, he is silent and I think he is alone when another of his kind launches themselves up on the rock, too. This newcomer is just as large. Just as powerful.

They’re not alone. From my limited vantage point, I can make out at least another moving on the far side of the ridge—similar in build and coloring, all with the same predatory alertness. Hunting. They’re hunting something.

Or someone.

I stare at the first alien, unable to look away despite the fear coiling in my gut. And then, as if he can feel my gaze—feel my thoughts—his head snaps in our direction.

I stop breathing. My heart seems to stutter and freeze in my chest. His eyes—darker than Rok’s—feel like those of a lion as he stares directly at our hiding spot.

Does he see us? Can he sense us somehow?

Slowly, so slowly it feels like time has stretched to breaking, I tuck my head behind Rok’s shoulder, breaking the line of sight. I don’t dare move. Don’t dare breathe. The pounding in my head fades to background noise, drowned out by the roaring of blood in my ears and the single, terrifying thought looping through my mind:

Rok isn’t alone on this planet. His species—whatever they are—aren’t a single unified group. And the ones out there right now aren’t friendly.

I thought I’d be happy to see more signs of life. But this…this is a problem.

A very, very big problem.

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