Page 104 of Rok's Captive
I need something.
Water. Food. Anything to ease this restless, gnawing ache taking over my body. Every time I’ve ingested something from this planet—its water, its strange, bitter foods—it’s soothed the mystery ailments that have plagued me since I woke up here. Maybe this is the same. Maybe I just need to drink or eat something to feel normal again.
But as my gaze drops to the impressive tent beneath Rok’s loincloth, another thought flickers in my mind. A memory.
The taste of him. Sweet and warm, like honey—but richer. And before I can stop myself, I wonder: Does he count as part of the menu?
The moment the thought crosses my mind, a pulse of heat flares low in my belly. My thighs clench, almost causing me to stumble, a fresh wave of need making my breath hitch. I force my gaze away, ashamed of the direction my thoughts have taken, but it’s too late.
The memory of his taste lingers. It’s maddening, and I can’t shake the idea that maybe—just maybe—what I need isn’t water or food at all.
This planet is messing with me. That’s the only explanation. It has to be something I ate or drank, some chemical reaction that’s turning me into a horny, insatiable mess.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but it’s no use. The heat, the tension, the constant ache between my legs—it’s all-consuming, making it impossible to focus on anything else.
And then Rok stops.
I nearly run into him, too busy berating myself for my inappropriate thoughts to notice his sudden stillness. He sniffs the air, his nostrils flaring, and a low growl rumbles in his chest.
My heart skips a beat, and for a brief, mortifying moment, I wonder if he can smell me. The heat pooling between my thighs, the tension thrumming under my skin—can he sense it?
But then I notice the way his shoulders tense. The way he’s not focused on me.
It’s not me.
It’s something else.
Danger.
I don’t dare say a word. I don’t even breathe too loudly as I watch him scan the horizon, his golden eyes narrowing to slits.
The next, his hand shoots out, grabbing my arm so tightly I nearly yelp.
“Rok—” I start, but he’s already moving, tugging me forward, his pace relentless.
I stumble after him, my pulse spiking as I try to keep up with his long strides. His head is tilted slightly, his nostrils flaring as he sniffs the air. A low, guttural growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and the sound is enough to make my stomach drop.
“What is it?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
He doesn’t answer. His grip tightens on my arm, and without warning, he takes off at a dead sprint, dragging me with him.
My shoes slip and skid in the loose sand as we weave through the jagged rock formations. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline surging as I hear it—a sound behind us.
Like a whisper at first, soft and eerie. But then it grows louder, a low, rumbling hiss that sends a shiver down my spine.
I glance over my shoulder and nearly keel over.
The sand is moving.
It shifts and churns like a living thing, a massive wave rolling toward us like it was water and not tiny specks of rock.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, my legs suddenly feeling like jelly.
Rok yanks me forward, his claws digging gently into my arm to keep me upright while forcing me to run.
I don’t need to be urged twice.
We dart through the rocks, the path twisting and turning in a way that makes my head spin. The sound behind us grows louder, closer, and I can feel the vibrations in the ground beneath my feet. My breaths come hard and fast, my lungs burning, my legs screaming in protest, but I don’t stop.
