Page 132 of Rok's Captive
It’s hard leaving the group when I’ve just found them again. But I need to. I bid my farewells and head toward Rok and Tharn. Kol intercepts me.
“We will guard these females. These daughters of Ain,” he projects.
“I know you will, dra-dam…I put my trust in you.”
I feel his brush of surprise at my use of his official title.
“You learn quickly, soft one,” he projects. “I have felt your thoughts. My brothers and I do not care if you are the true daughters or not. We will die for any one of these females anyway.” I swallow down the lump of feeling that rises in my throat. His words feel like a vow. “No harm will come to them while we draw breath.”
“Thank you.” I give him a slight bow. “They are my family. My clan.”
He inclines his head, accepting my designation. “Find your sister-female. Bring her home to your clan.”
With that, he steps aside, and I join Rok and Tharn at the edge of the camp. “Ready?” Rok projects, his golden eyes searching mine. The urge to throw myself into his arms and just curl up and cry is almost overwhelming. His quiet support through all this has done more than he even knows.
I nod, casting one last glance back at the camp—at the human women tentatively putting their trust in the Drakav warriors as they prepare to head in the opposite direction.
“Let’s find Jacqui,” I say, turning to face the vast expanse of desert that swallowed my sister. “Let’s bring her home.”
Chapter37
OKAY, DESERT. TRUCE?
JUSTINE
The stone formations grow larger as we approach, their jagged silhouettes stark against the darkening sky. We’ve been walking for hours, following the path Jacqui supposedly took, and my body aches with each step. I remember when I first took this journey. How I had to stop so many times. Now all I need is a swig from the waterskin and I keep going on. The heat is trying and the emergency blanket Alex gave me hardly feels like it’s helping, but I can’t stop. Won’t stop. Not when my sister is out there somewhere.
By the time we reach the stone formation, I’m drained, but hopeful.
“Jaqs?” I call out. Only, there’s no sign of Jacqui.
All that’s left, all that’s still there, is my message I left in the dust. The stones, now almost covered with sand, pointing toward the other stone formation in the distance.
Tharn releases a low rumble in his chest.
“In that direction lies our rivals. Territory we cannot cross.”
I gulp hard. I’ve seen their rivals. I understand why they’d want to stay away. But it’s my sister we’re talking about here.
“We have to go. At least to the point where Rok caught up with me.”
Tharn’s gaze shifts to Rok. I can tell they’re having an argument that Rok shields me from. Finally, Tharn’s shoulders sag.
“We move with caution.”
I swallow hard, nodding.
Tharn leads our small group, his powerful frame moving with surprising grace across the shifting sands. Every few minutes, he drops to a crouch, examining the ground with an intensity that gives me hope. Sometimes he lingers longer, head tilted as if listening to something I can’t hear, before rising and adjusting our course slightly.
“Does he know where he’s going?” I project to Rok, who walks beside me, his stride shortened to match mine.
“Tharn reads the dust like few others can,” Rok replies, his mental voice confident. “Even traces that would be invisible to most leave marks he can follow.”
I watch as Tharn pauses again, his clawed hand hovering just above the sand’s surface. “What’s he looking for, exactly?”
“Disturbances. Changes in how the sand settles. The dust remembers those who cross it, at least for a time.”
The dust remembers. He’s talking about tracking. It’s such a poetic way to describe it and as I watch Tharn, there’s something almost spiritual in how he approaches the task, as if communing with the desert itself.
