Page 93 of Rok's Captive
She cuts herself off, but I’ve already felt it. That fire. The pull between us that neither of us can deny.
The stars beneath my skin pulse faintly, responding to her, but they don’t return. My transformation is complete, I suppose. This is not the chaos from before. This is something new.
Is this mind sickness?
I should walk away. Should let her see the real me—the one who left her people to rot in that valley. But then her fingers brush my chest, and the lie does not manifest to thought.
I pull back slightly, just enough to meet her gaze. Her pupils are blown wide, her cheeks flushed a deep red, and her lips are parted slightly, as if she’s struggling to catch her breath.
She doesn’t move away.
She doesn’t pull back.
I can sense her every breath. Every beat of herdra-kir.As if Xiraxis has formed around her and she is the world in its entirety.
The fire within me still burns, but it’s no longer a chaotic blaze. It’s a controlled heat now, simmering just beneath the surface, focused and ready.
And at the center of it all is her.
The small, fragile being who has placed her trust in me despite everything.
I will not fail her.
I put my forehead to hers. “I will take you to your clan. But first we must go to mine.”
Chapter27
HELP ME, OBI-WAN KENOBI. YOU’RE MY ONLY HOPE (OF ESCAPING THIS SEXUAL TENSION)
JUSTINE
We don’t leave the cave once night falls.
“Too dangerous,” Rok says—or rather, thinks at me, his forehead pressed briefly against mine. “Predators hunt in darkness.”
I nod, pretending this makes perfect sense, like receiving telepathic warnings about alien predators is just part of my daily routine now. No big deal. Just another day on Planet Dust.
“Sure, sure,” I reply, as if we’re discussing whether to grab takeout or cook dinner. “Wouldn’t want to be someone’s midnight snack.”
The tension between us is thick enough to cut with a knife. Or one of those wicked claws of his. We’ve both been carefully avoiding discussing what happened earlier—his cosmic transformation, the stars beneath his skin, and especially that new…addition to his anatomy.
Which is now mercifully covered by my sacrificed pants legs, though the makeshift loincloth does little to disguise the impressive outline beneath.
Not that I’m looking. Much.
And Rok, Rok seems tense. Not tense like he was before when he was in pain. This is different. He’s watching me like a hawk, and the look in his eyes is making me feel all sorts of things. He ventures out briefly—just outside the cave entrance—to hunt, returning with more of those strange lizard creatures. He prepares them the same way as before, removing the dangerous parts and cooking them just enough to make the meat safe.
My observant alien even cooks mine a little longer, his nostrils flaring as if he thinks he’s doing a disservice, but he does it anyway.
It’s still a little rarer than I’d like, but I eat without complaint, too hungry to be fussy. The protein feels good, strengthening, and I know I’ll need my energy for tomorrow’s journey.
After eating, I deliberately position myself on the opposite side of the cave from Rok. It seems like the sensible thing to do, given…everything. Distance. That’s what we need. Distance and time to process whatever is happening between us.
Except I can’t sleep.
I lie on my side, facing the wall, acutely aware of every sound he makes across the chamber. The soft sounds of him moving. The steady rhythm of his breathing. The occasional low rumble that might be a sigh or might be something else entirely.
I can hear every slight shift when I hadn’t been able to before. Rok has always been so silent to me. Just another of those new skills I’ve developed, I guess.
