Page 26 of Rok's Captive
It hurts my ears.
I am not used to such constant noise-making. It has been many many moons since I had the need to use my own voice—and that had only been because I was in dire circumstances. With no Drakav close by, I could only shout to get someone’s attention as the sandfin had tried to pull me under the dust to its den.
This male needs to be silent.
Ain touches the horizon. Soon the dust stalkers will begin their hunt.
My gaze travels over the male before me. To the wide blue eyes. The strangely soft face. The way he’s looking at me, still making those vocalizations that I wish I could silence.
I’ve prevented him from reaching the rival clan’s territory, but now I face an impossible choice. I cannot take him back to my tribe—bringing an unknown male to our sanctuary would be unforgivable. But I cannot leave him here, either to continue his mission or to become prey. If he dies in our territory, his clan—wherever they are—might seek vengeance.
Dust curse it.
A distant screech echoes across the dunes—not the male this time, but a hunting call. The male’s head snaps toward the sound, and for the first time, I see real terror in those strange eyes.
What am I to do with this void-minded, water-wasting, marker-defiling creature?
The answer comes to me as another screech tears through the air, far across the dunes. The male’s strange coverings will not protect him from what he has attracted here. His pale hide will be torn to shreds before Ain rises again.
I sniff the air, eyeing him as his chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.
I know what I will do.
Chapter7
WHEN “FIRST CONTACT” MEANS EXACTLY WHAT THE FUCK IT SAYS
JUSTINE
It’s a man. Aperson. The first living thing I’ve encountered apart from that ungodly screech I heard in the distance just now.
My heart hammers against my ribs as I stare at the figure before me. No, not a man—something else entirely. Humanoid, yes, but definitely not human.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, backing away slowly. I’ve discovered an alien.
If this doesn’t confirm we’re on another planet far away from Earth, I don’t know what will.
Unless the Xyma hired really committed cosplayers who got just as lost as we did, I’m going to go with door number one: definitely alien.
He’s tall—at least seven or more feet of lean, sculpted muscle. His skin is the first thing that draws my attention—a golden amber that seems to shift and ripple like the very dunes around us. His face is angular, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw that could cut glass.
And he’s completely, and utterlyNAKED.
I avert my gaze then realize there’s nothing particularly…obvious…to avoid looking at. Either his people have different anatomy or there’s some kind of concealment I’m not seeing. I’m too disoriented to figure it out and frankly, being poked in the eye by D is the least of my concerns right now.
Oh shit, what did the Xyma do when they arrived on Earth again? I was so frickin’ terrified I can hardly remember. Funny how the entire Earth population has just moved on and accepted them from those early days. But the being in front of me doesnotlook accepting right now.
“Um, hello?” I try, raising my hands in what I hope is a universal gesture of non-aggression. “I come in peace? That’s what you’re supposed to say, right?”
The being winces at the sound of my voice, his strange eyes narrowing. They’re amazing—vertical pupils like a cat’s, with irises the color of true topaz flecked with bronze. His reaction makes me lower my voice to just above a whisper.
“Sorry. Too loud?”
He remains in a crouched position, perfectly balanced on the balls of his feet, looking ready to either flee or attack. His nostrils flare slightly as he…sniffs me? Great. I probably smell reallyrichright now.
“Look,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady and quiet, “I’m lost. My people are back that way.” I point in the direction of the transport. He doesn’t even turn his head to look. Doesn’t even glance at my arm. Those eyes remain locked on mine and it’s hard to keep focus. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. “We’re stranded. Do you understand?”
Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition in that predatory gaze. But he’s watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle—not with fear exactly, but with the distinct feeling of being sized up. Like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve, or worse—a threat he’s deciding how to neutralize.
