Page 122 of Rok's Captive
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.
Oh god. What have I done?
“Enough,” Rok growls, his arm encircling my shoulders. “My female needs rest.”
Kol studies us for a long moment, his face unreadable. Finally, he inclines his head. “Rest. At first light, we journey to find your lost ones.”
Rok stands and offers me his hand. “Come,” he projects softly. “You need rest.”
