Page 42 of Rok's Captive
“Jus-teen,” he says again, softer this time, almost a caress.
And in that moment, with the desert sun streaming into the cave and this alien creature saying my name like it’s something precious, I realize with perfect clarity that I am in way, way over my head.
Chapter12
YOUR CAT ISN’T THE ONLY ONE THAT LIKES HIGH PLACES
JUSTINE
Idon’t find my earring. One more whole day has passed stuck in this cave and I’ve spent the time checking every grain of sand, every inch of this cave. It is nowhere to be found.
What’s worse, I’m having nightmares. Or dreams, depending on how you want to look at it. Strange ones that crept into my mind in the night. Dreams where I’d seen those tiny particles again, swirling around me, inside me, changing something fundamental in my cells. Except, in this deam the alien was there, too. His hands, his touch, so gentle despite those deadly claws, had soothed the burning beneath my skin, chasing away the fear with a different kind of heat. A heat that lingers even now, a phantom ache that pulses between my legs with every beat of my racing heart.
I must be ovulating. It’s not my fault it makes me a horny fiend.
It is with great effort that I push the thoughts away, focusing on combing through the last handful of sand.
“It’s gone,” I finally admit, sitting back on my heels. A hollow feeling spreads through my chest. “It’s really gone.”
My gaze shifts to the alien. Still crouched nearby, he’d helped me look. Somehow, he’d noted my distress and without a word, he’d kneeled beside me, methodically brushing through the sand even though he had no idea what I was searching for, only that it’s obviously important to me. As if my distress alone was reason enough to help.
Now, still watching me with those unnerving golden eyes, he makes a low rumbling sound that almost feels sympathetic.
I brush angrily at the tears threatening to spill over. This is stupid. It’s just an earring. A tiny piece of glass. It shouldn’t matter so much, especially not here, where I’m stranded with much bigger problems to worry about.
But itdoesmatter. And the loss of it feels like losing her all over again.
I take a deep breath and force myself to stand. Sitting here crying won’t find the earring, and it won’t get me back to Jacqui and the others.
“I have to go,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “They’ll be looking for me.”
I move to my small pack—which is really just my handbag—checking the meager supplies inside. One water packet left. Two more emergency biscuits. Not much, but it’ll have to do. I’d lost the emergency blanket somewhere in the desert, but there’s nothing I can do about that now.
“Okay,” I say, more to myself than to him. “That’s it. Time to hit the road.”
I sling the bag over my shoulder and turn toward the cave entrance. The alien is still watching me, his expression unreadable as I make my way past him.
I’m almost to the entrance when something large blocks my path. Him. He’s moved with that unsettling speed again, positioning himself between me and the exit.
“Excuse me,” I say, trying to step around him. “I need to go.”
He doesn’t budge.
“Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done. Really. You saved my life, and that’s…well, that’s a pretty big deal. But I have people waiting for me. People who are probably thinking I’m dead right now.”
I try again to move past him, but he shifts, still blocking my way. His eyes have narrowed, and the glow beneath his skin has intensified—pulsing like a warning signal—and for a crazy moment, I want to reach out and touch him again, feel that strange ripple under my fingers. Then I mentally slap myself. No, not helpful.
“Seriously?” I throw up my hands in frustration. “What is your problem? I need to leave!”
He makes a low, rumbling sound—not quite a growl, but definitely not approval either.
“Move,” I say, trying to make my voice firm despite the frustration and fear bubbling up inside me. “Please.”
Nothing. He might as well be a statue, an immovable wall of muscle and stubbornness.
“Fine. If you won’t move, I’ll just…” I feint left, then dart right, trying to slip past him.
No luck. He’s too fast, his reflexes too sharp. His arm shoots out, gently but firmly blocking my path.
