Page 119 of Rok's Captive
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.
Chapter34
THIS IS FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE. I’M TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH AN ALIEN
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.”
