Page 83 of Rok's Captive
She pauses, glancing at me with wide, expectant eyes, as though willing me to understand. But I don’t.
Her lips press together in what looks like frustration. She draws more figures, pointing to them as she speaks, her voice trembling with emotion. The same vocalizations again. Over and over.
“Jah-kee. Mih-kay-la. Eh-rihka.”
Then it clicks. She names them. Shenamesthem.
The sound of her voice, the way her hands move, the desperation in her tone—it all clicks into place. As she draws two more lines—one leading from her figure to the fallen stone, the other from my figure to the same point, I understand.
There are more of her.
And she wants to go back for them.
Her people.
Daughters of Ain.
The realization hits me like a blow, and my chest heaves with the weight of it.
She is not alone.Wasnot alone. She wants to return to the place where I found her, near the Silent Valley, where danger lingers.
She wants to go back.
And I have no choice but to take her.
Chapter25
THIS IS FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE. I’M TOTALLY FINE
JUSTINE
Rok won’t look at me.
He’s been pacing for hours, his movements growing increasingly agitated with each pass across the cave floor. Every few minutes, he pauses to stare at the entrance, nostrils flaring, head tilted as if listening for something I can’t hear.
“Are they still out there?” I ask, even though I know he can’t understand me. “The other aliens?”
No response. Just more pacing, his claws scraping against stone with each turn.
I watch him from where I’m sitting by the small fire, the remains of the last lizard-thing long since picked clean. The cave has grown darker as the day progresses, shadows lengthening as the light filtering through the ceiling cracks changes from harsh white to a softer gold.
Rok’s behavior is…concerning. He’s always been a bit wild—I mean, I knew that from the moment I met him—but this is different. There’s a frantic quality to his movements, a tension in his shoulders I haven’t seen before. His glow pulses erratically beneath his skin, flaring brighter whenever he glances my way.
Which isn’t often.
In fact, he seems to be going out of his way to avoid looking at me. Like making eye contact might somehow hurt him.
“You know, the silent treatment is getting a little old,” I say, mostly to fill the uncomfortable silence. “Especially now that I know you can actually talk. Sort of.”
I still can’t wrap my head around it. His voice in my mind—clear as day, rich and deep with that strange accent I can’t place. Not some hallucination or fever dream, but actual communication.
Telepathy. Actual honest-to-God telepathy.
“The longer I stay on this hellscape of a planet, the weirder things get,” I mutter, poking at the fire with the bone stick. “Next thing you know, I’ll be growing a third eye or developing the ability to shoot laser beams from my fingertips.”
I glance up, half hoping for a reaction, but Rok is focused intently on the cave entrance again, his body tense and alert.
“You said there was danger,” I say, my tone more serious now. “Is it those other aliens? The ones who were hunting you?”
