Page 29 of Rok's Captive
The alien moves away, and for a terrifying moment, I think he’s going to leave me here. But then I sense rather than see him positioning himself at what must be the cave entrance. His breathing is silent, but I can feel the coiled tension radiating from him. The cave isn’t large—my outstretched hands can touch both walls, and the ceiling feels low enough that he must be crouching.
Outside, something moves. The sound is subtle. A whisper of movement across stone. Somewhere out there a pebble dislodges and clatters, echoing into the stillness. The alien’s reaction is immediate. I sense him dropping lower. Pressing against the wall, I try to make myself as small as possible.
Then I hear it. A single click sound. Not from the alien this time, but from whatever’s outside. It’s answered by another set of clicks, then another, until the cave entrance is surrounded by what sounds like dozens of chittering, clicking monsters, the sound they make echoing off the stone like laughter.
I stare straight ahead, eyes wide in the darkness, barely breathing. They’re communicating. Hunting. And we’re trapped.
When the sounds rise to a crescendo, I squeeze my eyes shut tight, my lower lip bitten between my teeth so hard I taste blood.
No. Not going to die here.
I’m not going to die like this!
Minutes pass like hours. I don’t dare move, barely dare to breathe. And the alien remains motionless. So silent that at one point I wonder if he left. Disappeared when there was a chance to do so, without me knowing.
Finally, my eyes adjust to spot his dark shape against the marginally lighter cave entrance. He’s standing there, hands tipped with dangerously long claws. Looking like he’s ready to tear apart anything that breaches the entrance.
When the sounds outside eventually fade, I hear him exhale. Those claws disappear, going back into his fingers like they were never there. And then something extraordinary happens. His skin begins to emit a soft, amber glow. It starts with raised markings across his chest, spreading outward like veins of light beneath his golden skin. The illumination is subtle, but it’s enough to reveal the interior of the rocky chamber.
I forget to breathe for a moment. He’s…magnificent. Savage and alien and dangerous, but magnificent. The light plays across the harsh planes of his face, those vertical pupils now reflecting his glow. His body is all lean muscle and scars, telling stories of survival I can only imagine.
The sight of those scars snaps me back to reality. Whatever he is, he’s clearly dangerous—and I’m alone with him. The thought sends my mind racing to darker places. If creatures dangerous enough to mark him like that are out there, what chance do the others have?
Jacqui. My chest tightens. Instead of returning to her and the others with information, I’m trapped in a cave with a glowing alien who either saved me or kidnapped me—or both.
The worst part? I have no idea how to find my way back. Even if I could somehow slip past my alien captor, the twisting path we took to get here is already lost on me.
“I need to get back,” I whisper, knowing he won’t understand but needing to say it anyway. “My sister, the others—they need me. They’re waiting.”
The alien makes that clicking sound again, softer this time. Is it meant to be reassuring? Threatening? A warning to shut up? I have no way of knowing.
One thing is clear. From his stance at the entrance, he’s not letting me pass.
I slide down the wall until I’m sitting, suddenly aware of how utterly exhausted I am. My muscles scream in protest, my throat burns with thirst, and every inch of exposed skin feels scorched.
At least I’m alive. For now. And not being eaten by whatever was making those sounds outside. Also a plus.
For a moment, I simply allow myself to breathe. Until the adrenaline dies down and my hands stop shaking enough to reach for my pack. One and a half water packets left. Each drop is precious, but after that run, and with my heart still racing, I need it.
I fumble with the packet in the darkness. When I finally get my fingers on the lid, a sharp movement makes me freeze.
His body goes rigid. The glow catches his eyes, fixed not on me—but on the packet in my hands. Before I can react, he moves, so fast I barely register it, snatching the packet from my grip with a swift motion that makes me gasp.
“Hey!” I protest, but he’s already turning the plastic packet over in his hands, examining it with intense concentration, running his fingers along the sealed edges.
His nostrils flare as he brings it closer to his face, sniffing at it suspiciously. Those golden eyes narrow, darting from the packet to me, a strange accusation in his eyes that leaves me dumbfounded. Then he goes completely still, staring at me with such intensity it’s almost physical. His focus is absolute, pupils contracting to thin slits as he continues to hold my gaze for what feels like an eternity.
I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? Like I’m supposed to read your mind or something.”
He continues that unnerving stare, and I swear I can feel pressure building behind my eyes. It’s probably just exhaustion and dehydration, but…weird. He tilts his head slightly, the stare never breaking. If anything, it intensifies, his brow furrowing with what looks like concentration or frustration.
“Sorry, buddy. Whatever you’re trying to communicate isn’t working.” I tap my temple. “No mind reading capabilities installed.”
Something flickers across his face—surprise maybe, or confusion. He blinks rapidly, then returns his attention to the water packet, his fingers prod at it, trying to find an opening, but clearly unfamiliar with the technology.
I hold out my hand, palm up. “Give it back,” I say, then realize he can’t understand. “I’ll show you.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he extends the packet toward me, but doesn’t release it. We sit like that for a moment, both holding the packet, a strange standoff over the most basic of survival needs. My fingers graze his and his skin ripples in response, like something alive shifting beneath the surface. A slow wave rolls up his arm—like the desert itself just woke up inside him.
