Текст книги "Roks captive"

Автор книги: A.G. Wilde

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“Aye,” Rok nods and Tharn looks at him like he’s suddenly a strange thing he’s never seen before. I realize a little later it’s because of the nod itself. That’s something Rok learned from me.

“We will continue to clan grounds,” he projects to Tharn. “Lead the way.”

Tharn doesn’t respond. Casting one more suspicious glance at me, he turns to head across the sand.

Thank the gods for this new stamina. I manage to keep the pace as we walk, though I know both males are going considerably slower than they are capable of. As we go, I notice how Tharn keeps pace not too far ahead, frequently glancing back at me with unconcealed interest. There’s something in his gaze that makes me uneasy—not quite hostility, but a calculating intensity that has me instinctively moving closer to Rok.

“He doesn’t believe I’m female,” I whisper to Rok.

“He will,” Rok replies, his mental voice tinged with grim determination. “The clan has never seen beings like you. Their disbelief is natural.”

“What if they all react like Tharn? What if they attack before asking questions?”

Rok’s hand finds mine, his fingers intertwining with mine in a gesture so human it makes my throat tight. “I will not let them harm you.”

The promise is simple, but loaded with meaning. I glance up at him, finding his golden eyes already on me, filled with that same fierce protectiveness I’m coming to recognize.

After about an hour of trekking through increasingly rocky terrain, Rok stops abruptly.

“We must move faster,” he says, turning to me. “The clan grounds are still distant, and the dark will come soon.”

Before I can respond, he sweeps me into his arms, cradling me against his chest.

“I will carry you,” he states, not a question but a declaration. “It will be faster.”

Tharn watches this exchange with narrowed eyes. “The female cannot keep pace?”

“She is not of the dust,” Rok snaps. “Her strength is different.”

Something flickers in Tharn’s eyes—confusion, disbelief, and something else I can’t quite identify. His gaze lingers on me for a moment too long, trailing over the way I’m nestled against Rok’s chest, the way Rok’s arms tighten around me possessively.

There’s yearning there. Deep and unmistakable.

It sends a chill down my spine. Not fear, exactly, but a sudden awareness that Rok might not be the only one of his kind who could form this strange bond with a human woman.

“We go,” Rok’s voice in my head is a growl, clearly noticing Tharn’s stare. Without waiting for a response, he launches into a run, his powerful legs eating up the distance with astonishing speed.

Tharn follows, matching Rok’s pace. His gaze keeps flicking to me, and each time it does, Rok’s arms tighten fractionally around me.

As we race across the desert, the wind picking up around us, I find myself wondering what awaits us at the clan grounds. Will they all look at me the way Tharn does? With suspicion, disbelief, and that unsettling hint of desire?

And what happens when they discover I’m not what they expect—not a daughter of their sun god, but just a lost human woman trying to find her sister and a way home?

I press my face against Rok’s chest, drawing comfort from his cool skin and the steady beat of his heart. Whatever comes next, I’m not facing it alone. I have Rok.

And as the landscape blurs around us, the wind growing stronger at our backs, I can only hope that’s enough.

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Chapter 33

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JUST WHEN I THOUGHT IT COULDN’T GET WEIRDER

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JUSTINE

The sun sinks toward the horizon as we approach the clan grounds, painting the rocky landscape in shades of amber and gold. Still cradled in Rok’s arms, I feel his muscles tense beneath me, his heartbeat quickening against my ear. Ahead, dark silhouettes of massive stone formations rise against the darkening sky—a natural fortress of towering cliffs and hidden crevices.

“We approach clan ground.” Rok’s thoughts brush against my mind, tentative and tense. “Are you afraid?”

The question surprises me. I’ve been so focused on the physical sensation of being carried by him—the powerful rhythm of his stride, the security of his arms around me—that I’d tried not to think about what awaits us.

“Should I be?” I counter, trying to mask my growing unease.

Rok slows his pace, allowing Tharn to pull ahead of us. When he responds, his mental voice is carefully measured. “They have never seen a being like you. They will not understand.”

“Like Tharn didn’t understand,” I say, watching the other male’s muscular back as he leads us toward the cliffs.

“Yes,” Rok agrees, “but many minds together can be…overwhelming.”

I swallow hard, suddenly aware of what that might mean. If one skeptical Drakav nearly attacked me on sight, what will a whole clan of them do?

“They will not harm you,” Rok adds, obviously sensing my fear. “I will not allow it.”

There’s a fierce certainty in his thoughts that should be comforting, but instead has me worried for him. What would happen if he had to defend me against his entire clan? What would that cost him?

Before I can voice these concerns, Tharn pauses ahead of us, raising his hand in a silent signal. The gesture is so human it momentarily throws me. These beings may look alien, but there’s something fundamentally familiar in the way they move, communicate (well…kind of), and exist.

“Kol awaits,” Tharn projects, his mental voice carrying to both of us. “He has sensed our approach.”

“How?” I wonder, not realizing I’ve broadcasted the thought until both males look at me.

“The clan bond,” Rok explains. “All males are connected. It is how we survive.”

This new piece of information sends my brain into overdrive. They all talk to each other…sense each other…constantly? So together are they like a singular unit, deadly soldiers that don’t even need to relay spoken commands because communication is like…instant?

“Your female thinks very loudly,” Tharn observes, interrupting my mental spiral.

Rok’s chest rumbles with what might be a chuckle. “She does.”

“I’m right here,” I protest, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. In truth, their casual exchange has helped ease some of my tension.

As we approach the base of the tallest cliff, I notice openings scattered across its face—cave entrances, some clearly natural and others that appear to have been deliberately expanded. The setting sun casts them in deep shadow, making it impossible to see within, but I have the distinct feeling of being watched from those dark voids.

Tharn stops at the cliff base, his posture straightening as his eyes close in concentration. Though no sound passes his lips, I sense a powerful mental projection emanating from him—a silent call that seems to ripple through the air around us. The mental energy hangs for a long moment, then fades.

Silence follows, so complete, I can hear my own heartbeat.

Then, movement. Shadows detaching from shadows. Forms emerging from the caves above, scaling down the cliff face with inhuman grace. Others appearing from behind rock formations, rising from what I had thought was bare ground.

Within moments, we’re surrounded by at least twenty Drakav males, their golden eyes gleaming in the fading light, their muscular bodies arranged in a loose circle around us. None approach, but their focus is like a heavy weight bearing down on me from all sides.

“They’re beautiful,” I think involuntarily, struck by the sight of them gathered together. Each one unique in the subtle variations of height and build, the color of their hair, their eyes—yet they’re unmistakably of the same species.

There’s an answering rumble in Rok’s chest, his arms tightening around me in what is nothing but jealousy and possessiveness. I don’t mind. I curl tighter against him, and not a moment too soon.

The circle parts, and a massive figure steps forward. Even among these impressive beings, he stands out—taller than Rok by at least a head, his shoulders broader, his chest deeper. Intricate patterns swirl across his torso and face, more elaborate than those visible on the others.

“Kol,” Rok acknowledges, inclining his head slightly but not bowing or kneeling as I might have expected. His arms remain firmly around me, holding me close to his chest rather than setting me down.

The leader’s eyes fix on me with unnerving intensity. I feel the brush of his mind against mine—harder, rougher than Rok’s gentle touch, like sandpaper compared to silk.

“What is this you bring to our grounds, Rok?” Kol’s mental voice resonates with authority. “Why do you carry a strange male in your arms as if he were a hatchling?”

A ripple of curious thought-whispers moves through the gathered clan. I feel Rok’s frustration spike, but his outward demeanor remains calm.

“Not male,” he corrects firmly. “Female. Not from here. Not from the dust.”

The mental whispers intensify, a buzz of disbelief and wonder that makes my temples throb. Kol steps closer, nostrils flaring as he scents the air around us.

“Set this creature down,” he commands. “Let me see what you claim is female.”

I feel Rok’s reluctance as he slowly lowers me to my feet, but he keeps one arm around my shoulders, his body slightly angled to remain between me and Kol. The protective gesture isn’t lost on the leader, whose face shifts in what might be surprise.

Standing on my own, I’m acutely aware of how small I am compared to these beings. The top of my head barely reaches Rok’s chest, and Kol towers over me like a living mountain. Fighting the urge to shrink back against Rok, I force myself to stand straight, meeting Kol’s gaze directly.

“I am Justine,” I project as clearly as I can, hoping my thoughts reach him. “I came from beyond the stars with others of my kind. Rok saved my life.”

Something in Kol’s eyes changes. Perhaps it’s surprise. Perhaps he thinks I’m lying. He circles me slowly, reminding me how Rok appeared much like a predator assessing potential prey in those first moments when we met. I resist the urge to turn with him, keeping my gaze fixed forward, though every instinct screams to keep the threat in view.

“The daughters of Ain were mighty beings,” Kol thinks, his mental voice dripping with skepticism. “Goddesses. This creature is small. Weak. It has no claws, no fangs.” He reaches toward my face with one massive hand. “Its skin is thin, soft⁠—”

Rok moves faster than I can track, his body suddenly between me and Kol’s outstretched hand. He doesn’t growl or bare his teeth, but his stance is unmistakably defensive.

“She is under my protection,” Rok states, the thought carrying such force that I see several of the surrounding males flinch.

Instead of anger at this challenge, something like curiosity flickers across Kol’s hard features. He withdraws his hand slowly, his gaze moving between Rok and me with fresh interest.

“You have changed, dust-son,” he observes. “Your bearing. Your stance.” His gaze drops pointedly to Rok’s loincloth. “Your covering.”

Several of the clan members shift closer, heads tilting in that now-familiar gesture of curiosity. I realize they’re all noticing what Tharn had pointed out—the physical evidence of Rok’s new anatomy, hidden beneath the crude garment I’d made for him.

“I have changed,” Rok acknowledges simply. “She has changed me.”

The admission sends another wave of mental murmurs through the gathered clan. I catch fragments of their thoughts—disbelief, fascination, jealousy, fear.

“—cannot be female⁠—”

“—look how he guards it⁠—”

“—never seen a male cover his pouch⁠—”

“—what if it is true? What if⁠—”

“—this strange male has many soft parts.”

A lean Drakav pushes forward suddenly. “Let me see this creature,” he demands, reaching for my arm.

Rok’s response is immediate and terrifying. His body transforms before my eyes—muscles bunching, spine arching, a sound emerging from his throat that seems to vibrate the very air around us. It’s not just a growl; it’s a warning that transcends language, primal and absolute.

The male freezes, then slowly backs away, head lowered in submission.

“Enough,” Kol commands, his mental voice cutting through the tension like a blade. His gaze shifts to Tharn. “What do you think of this creature⁠—”

“Jus-teen,” Rok corrects, his stance still rigid with protective fury.

Tharn straightens under Kol’s attention, his amber eyes flicking briefly to me before returning to his leader’s face. There’s a moment of hesitation, then his thoughts project clearly through the gathering.

“I trust Rok’s judgment,” he states firmly. “If he says this one is female, then I believe him. Rok has never led the clan astray.”

The declaration seems to carry weight, rippling through the gathered males. I feel Rok’s surprise and appreciation beside me, though his protective stance doesn’t waver.

Kol considers Tharn’s words, his face unreadable. He takes so long to relay his judgment that I start to worry that he will turn me away. Finally, his voice booms in my mind. “Jus-teen,” he pauses, his chin tilting slightly as he looks at me down the bridge of his nose, “will not be harmed or touched without consent.”

For a moment, he simply stares at me, and I wish I could read his mind. Ha. I probably could, I just don’t know how.

“You claim others of your kind are stranded. Where?” he projects.

Relief floods me at this change of subject. “Um, they’re…” And then I realize I have no idea where they are. I don’t know the direction or anything. “Where our ship crashed. We were…separated. We…meant no harm coming here.”

“Ship…” Kol repeats thoughtfully. I feel him turn the thought over. Clearly, he has no idea what a ship is, and I’m not sure I should provide mental images to back up the word. “And how many of these…females…are stranded?”

“My sister,” I project immediately. “And several other women—uh, females. Humans, we call ourselves.”

“Humans,” he echoes. The word comes off with a strange lilt in his thoughts. “We will search for these humans at first light.”

My heart sinks. “First light? We need to go now. It’s been days—more than I can count. What if they’ve encountered predators like the ones that attacked me and Rok? What if they’re hurt or—” I cut myself off, unwilling to voice my deepest fear.

If it’s even possible, Kol’s expression hardens. “We do not travel when Ain does not bless us with her light. The creatures that hide from Ain’s gaze are the deadliest. They hunt in the dark.”

“But my sister—” I begin, desperation creeping into my voice.

“If your people stayed,” Rok interjects, his thoughts so gentle they almost make my bravado crack, “near where I found you, then no creatures would go there.”

But something in his tone makes a chill run down my spine. “Why not?”

I sense a ripple of unease pass through the gathered clan. Glances are exchanged. Bodies shift restlessly.

“They are in the Silent Valley.” Rok’s eyes search mine and I know there’s more.

“Silent Valley?” I repeat. “Why do you call it that?”

“Silent Valley,” Kol’s voice booms in my head. “Where danger sleeps.”

A heavy silence falls. Even the mental whispers cease, leaving an eerie quiet that seems to press against my eardrums.

It’s Tharn who finally speaks, well, mind-talks. Mind-speaks? His thoughts carry a reverence far from how he sounded before. “The creature that lives there rests.”

The words hang in the air, pregnant with meaning I can’t fully grasp. Before I can ask for clarification, Kol turns to address the clan.

“Prepare for a journey at first light,” he commands. “We seek the human females.” His gaze returns to me. “Tonight, you will rest and tell us of your world beyond the stars…daughter of Ain.”

Oh…shit.

The gathered males disperse at his command, though many cast lingering glances my way as they return to their cave dwellings. Only a few remain—Kol, Tharn, and three others whose names I don’t yet know.

“Come,” Kol directs, turning toward the largest cave opening. “You will share meal-offering with the clan.”

As Rok guides me forward, his arm still protectively around my shoulders, I can’t shake the ominous feeling left by their words.

Silent Valley. Where the creature sleeps.

And my sister—my only family—is right in the middle of it.

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Chapter 34

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THIS IS FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE. I’M TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH AN ALIEN

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JUSTINE

Hours later, I sit cross-legged beside a fire pit in the main cave dwelling. A fire, it seems, lit solely for my purpose as these Drakav don’t appear to need its warmth. The dancing flames cast shifting shadows across the stone walls and the heat feels wonderful against my skin with the cold of the night creeping in. Despite the comfort of the fire, though, I can’t relax. The weight of too many eyes follows my every movement.

The cave is massive—at least thirty feet high at its center, with a natural chimney that draws the smoke upward. The space is surprisingly orderly, with distinct areas that seem designated for specific purposes. Stone platforms line the walls—sleeping places, I assume. Various implements hang from pegs driven into the rock—tools, weapons, containers made from materials I don’t recognize.

Kol sits across from me, his face illuminated by the firelight as he watches me with unrelenting intensity. Rok hasn’t left my side since we arrived, his body a constant presence against mine, his hand frequently finding mine as if to reassure himself I’m still there.

The rest of the clan keeps a respectful distance, but their curiosity is palpable. Every few minutes, one approaches bearing some offering—a gourd of water, a portion of fresh meat, a strange fruit-like object with a hard shell. Each gift is presented with a careful glance at Rok, as if seeking permission to come near me.

Rok tolerates these approaches, but barely. His muscles remain tense, his breathing controlled. When a particularly bold clan member lingers too long, Rok’s mental voice snaps out a warning that has the offender retreating hastily.

“Your protector is most vigilant,” Kol observes after the fifth such incident, his thoughts tinged with something that might be amusement.

“He’s always been protective,” I reply, accepting a water gourd from a young male who immediately backs away from Rok’s glare.

“No,” Kol corrects, his face thoughtful. “This is different. This is…” He seems to search for the right concept. “Claiming.”

Heat rises to my cheeks at the word, and Kol goes still at the visible change in my skin color. Several nearby clan members shift closer, fascinated by this new development.

“She changes color!” one thinks loudly enough for everyone to hear. “You have enraged her, dra-dam!”

Dra-dam? Leader, I suppose. Kol is leaning forward slightly, focus on my skin so intent, embarrassment makes me blush even harder.

“It’s called blushing,” I explain, taking care to remember to talk in my head while also wishing my face would cool. “It happens when humans are…embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” The concept seems to confuse them.

“Uncomfortable with attention,” I clarify. “Or when discussing certain topics.”

“Such as claiming,” Kol supplies.

My blush deepens. “Yes.”

“I do not understand,” Kol continues. It seems he’s genuinely puzzled and I realize something I never noticed before. He, Rok, Tharn, the Drakav in general, do not seem to hide their emotions like humans do. Their minds are open. Their intentions clear.

Something warm develops in my chest as my gaze shifts to Rok. His intentions have always been clear to me. I’ve never had to guess.

“Claiming is simple.” Kol projects, bringing me back to the present. “When a Drakav finds something useful in the dust—a tool, a water source, a hunting territory—he claims it for his use. It becomes his. Rok has claimed you as his useful thing.”

My eyes widen as I realize the misunderstanding. He’s talking about ownership, possession—not the intimate act my mind immediately jumped to. But it’s too late; the memory of Rok’s mouth between my thighs, his tongue exploring places no one has ever touched in so long, flashes vividly in my mind. The heat, the wetness, the way he drank from me as if dying of thirst⁠—

A collective gasp echoes through the cave, not audible but mental—a wave of shock and confusion that makes me realize, to my absolute horror, that I’ve just accidentally broadcast that explicit memory to the entire clan.

The silence that follows is deafening. Every pair of golden eyes is fixed on me, expressions ranging from stunned to bewildered to intensely curious. Across the fire, Tharn’s mouth has actually fallen open, a very human gesture of shock that would be comical under other circumstances.

Rok goes completely still beside me.

“What…was…that?” Kol finally asks, his mental voice careful, measured even, as if approaching something potentially dangerous.

I want to dissolve into the stone beneath me. Instead, I press my hands to my blazing face, unable to look at any of them.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to think. “I didn’t mean to show that. It was private.”

“That was…” Someone’s thoughts reach me, then stop, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Sharing water,” Rok supplies calmly, though I can feel his discomfort rippling beneath the surface. “It is natural. As natural as breathing.”

“Sharing water…from there?” Tharn asks incredulously, gesturing vaguely toward my lower body.

If possible, my face burns even hotter. I’m going to die of embarrassment right here in this cave, surrounded by confused alien males who’ve just gotten an unexpected glimpse of human sexuality.

“All females have water to share,” Rok states, but his gaze darts to me for confirmation. Oh fuck. What should I even say? Cheeks blazing, I nod. Rok’s shoulders straighten with even more confidence. “It is how bonds are strengthened.”

The clan members exchange glances, a buzz of confused mental whispers passing between them.

“This is…claiming?” Kol asks, clearly trying to reconcile this new information with his understanding of the word.

“No,” I hastily correct, the words coming from my lips. They all collectively wince. Shit. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and focus on saying everything in my head. “No. That’s…something else. Something private.”

“Private?” Kol does that thing again where I’m sure he’s turning the word over in his mind. They don’t…they don’t understand what I mean.

Pretty sure I’m digging myself a hole here.

“Private means it isn’t shared with others. Only those we trust the most.”

“I see,” Kol says, though it’s clear he doesn’t see at all. “Your species has strange customs, star-daughter.”

“Do all females allow this…water sharing?” Someone from the wider group projects directly at me. I don’t know who it is until they lean forward, tilting their head at me. But before I can answer, Rok’s growl fills my mind—a warning so potent I feel several of the gathered males recoil.

“My female’s water is mine alone,” he projects with unmistakable possessiveness. “As mine is hers.”

This declaration seems to make sense to the clan in a way the act itself didn’t. Territory, resources, possession—these are concepts they seem to understand well.

Kol raises a hand, silencing the murmurs that have broken out. “Enough,” he commands. “The customs of star-daughters are not our concern. What matters is finding the others. At first light.”

I’ve never been so grateful for a change of subject in my life. There’s a hum now, one of anticipation and curiosity. Thoughts tickling my brain like being in a big crowd at the county fair and hearing all the voices at once.

A clan member with particularly elaborate markings across his chest approaches, bearing what appears to be one of those freshly killed lizard creatures. He presents it to me with a gesture that seems almost ceremonial.

“For the female’s strength,” he projects, his mental voice carrying an undercurrent of excitement. “The dra-kir gives greatest power.”

I stare at the bloody offering. “Thank you,” I manage. Rok intervenes, taking the offering with a brief nod of acknowledgment.

“She requires food touched by flame,” he explains, then turns to pierce the small carcass with a sharpened bone, holding it over the fire.

The male tilts his head, confused.

The gathered clan watches this process with fascination. I hear their mental murmurs—wondering at my strange dietary needs, at Rok’s willingness to prepare food for me, at everything about this bizarre situation.

My gaze shifts to Rok. “Do you think they still believe I’m male like them?”

Rok’s warm gaze shifts to me, so very different from the cold glares he’s been sending his brothers. “No. If they thought you were a male from a rival clan, they would not be giving you offerings.”

Well, that’s a relief.

“Tell us of your world, star-daughter,” Kol projects, diverting attention from the cooking meat. “Why did you return to our dust?”

All eyes turn to me expectantly. I take a deep breath, considering how to explain Earth and the fact that I’m not this…mythical daughter of the sun they think I am.

“I come from a world called Earth,” I begin. “A planet—a…round ground in the sky—much like this one, but with more water. Our people have learned to travel among the stars, visiting other worlds to learn about them. But…we didn’t come here. I am not the daughter of Ain you revere so much. I am simply a human. I and all the others females who need your help.”

I take a deep breath, waiting for this revelation to come back and bite me in the ass. What’s worse, Kol’s face is unreadable. Even more than Rok’s. I can see why he’s the leader. Back on Earth, his poker game would be freaking marvelous.

“Not a daughter of Ain…” is all he says.

I take a breath.

“No,” I shake my head. “I am not.”

Kol leans forward. Everyone else is completely silent, not even their whispering thoughts reaching my mind. He inhales deeply, scenting me. “But you are female. In the image of Rok sharing your water, I saw that you had no pouch. No member.”

Back to this again. I try not to blush, clearing my throat instead.

“You are correct.” I take another deep breath. “Not a daughter of Ain, but female still.”

A collective intake of breath that seems to draw the very air from the cave. The mental whispers suddenly intensify—a cacophony of wonder, disbelief, hope, and fear that makes my temples throb.

“I’m sorry.” I close my eyes so I can focus my thoughts. “I’m sorry if that’s disappointing. Sorry if that’s not what you want to hear. But I beg, my sister and the others, the other women, the other females, they need your help. They will die out there if no one helps them.”

I swallow hard, waiting for his response. When I finally open my eyes, Kol is studying me intently. As is everyone else in the cave except Rok. He’s meeting each of their gazes in turn, tension radiating from his frame. As if should one of them make a move, he will tear their throat out.

“We…” Kol starts. “We will not let females die. That would go against everything passed down from generations of Drakav. You say you are no daughter of Ain, but you fell from Ain and landed in the dust. You are daughter enough to us.”

The weight of his words settles over me. He doesn’t have to spell it out. They will help us.

The relief I feel can’t even be put into words or thought. Tears brim in my eyes, a single one running down my cheek.

The cave grows suddenly quiet—not a single thought coming through. Then all at once, every golden eye in the cave fixes on the teardrop trailing down my face.

“She…leaks water,” comes Tharn’s shocked exclamation, breaking the silence.

And suddenly the mental barrage intensifies, becoming a focused onslaught directed at me from all sides.

“—her face produces water!—”

“—is this how females share?—”

“—precious resource from her eye-holes⁠—”

“—what does it taste like?—”

“—is she injured? Why does she leak?—”

“—can all females make water appear?—”

“—Rok must be powerful to bond with a water-maker⁠—”

“—imagine never thirsting in the dust again⁠—”

The onslaught is like a physical pressure against my mind, dozens of voices clamoring for attention. I press my hands to my temples, wincing as the mental noise grows louder, more insistent.

Rok notices immediately. Without hesitation, he shifts to face me, gently taking my face between his hands. Pressing his forehead to mine, he creates a bubble of quiet around my consciousness, blocking out the invasive thoughts.

“Focus on me,” he instructs gently. “Only me. Build walls around your mind—strong, high. You control who enters.”

I concentrate, visualizing the barrier as he describes. To my surprise, it works—the chaotic voices recede, becoming distant murmurs rather than shouting crowds.

“Yes,” he encourages, his mental voice warm with pride. “Like that. You learn quickly, my Jus-teen.”

The tenderness in his thoughts, the gentle care in his touch—it overwhelms me with gratitude. Without thinking, I lean forward and press my lips to his in a brief, chaste kiss.

When I pull back, I become aware of the absolute silence that has fallen over the cave once more. Everyone’s attention is fixed on us, expressions ranging from shock to fascination to something darker, hungrier.

“What was that joining?” Kol’s voice booms in my head, absolutely cutting through the barrier I’d created. “What ritual is this?”

Heat floods my cheeks again. Oh fuck. This is like one of those alien movies where the clueless human accidentally marries the chieftain’s son, starts an interplanetary war, and overthrows a thousand-year-old religious order all before dinner. At this rate, I’m going to single-handedly destroy their entire cultural foundation before bedtime.

“It’s called a kiss,” I explain reluctantly. “It’s…a gesture of affection among my people.”

“Affection,” Kol repeats, as if tasting the word. “Like grooming?”

“Sort of,” I hedge, not wanting to dive into the intricacies of human romance. “More intimate.”

“Do all your females perform this type of water sharing, too?” Tharn asks, his voice carrying an undertone I can’t quite identify.

“Well, yes,” I admit. “With people they care about.”

This revelation sends a ripple of excitement through the gathered clan. I can almost see the wheels turning in their heads, imagining a world full of females who might bestow such “affection” on them.