Page 21 of Tharn's Hunt
“I probably shouldn’t have eaten that,” I murmur, resting my head back. “If I die, it will be my own damn fault.”
The alien watches me intently, his golden eyes shifting over my face. I brace for worse pain, for my stomach to revolt…
Instead, second by second, the jackhammer in my temples slows its rhythm, until it's a bearable throb.
"Wow, it's..." I blink in surprise. "Actually helping."
He studies my face, searching for confirmation. I nod, offering a small smile of gratitude.
The moment my lips stretch, his gaze snaps to the movement. For a moment, he stills, then the transformation in his expression is unmistakable. His shoulders relax, the severe line of his mouth softening.
He’s pleased by my approval.
The sight almost makes me chuckle.
I reach for the waterskin, needing to wash away the taste of that bitter medicine. The water is still cool, and I drink deeply. When I lower it, I find him watching me with that same fascinated intensity. Another one of those strange shivers goes through me.
"You're staring again," I point out, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
He doesn't look away. Instead, he points to the ray meat, then to me, then makes a motion like he's growing stronger.
"Yes, I need to eat more," I agree, accepting another strip of the pale flesh. It's better than it looks, and my body is desperate for the energy.
As I bite in, I notice the way he keeps checking that I'm eating, that the paste is helping my head.
This isn't just a random alien who found me in the desert. This is someone who's made a decision to help me. To care for me, even.
Why?
The question burns in my mind as I finish another strip of meat. What does he want?
"We need to go," I say again, gesturing to the cave entrance. "Justine. My sister." I point to myself, then mimic another person next to me. "Sister."
He tilts his head, considering. Then he points to the food, to me, and makes a motion like drinking.
"Yes, I get it. Eat, drink, get stronger." I sigh. "But we need to find?—"
A low, sharp click cuts through the cave, echoing off the stone walls. My eyes widen on him, even when some part of my brain knows it's not from Goldilocks.
His entire body snaps rigid, claws unsheathing to full lethal length. His pupils slit to needle-thin black lines in the amber-gold, every muscle locking as he whirls toward the cave entrance.
For one terrifying heartbeat, he's transformed.
The creature before me isn't the same one who carefully offered water. Who hunted and prepared food for me. Who treated my wound with such gentleness.
No—this is what he looks like when he means it.
That wasn't him being aggressive with me earlier.
That was him playing nice.
Every inch of him screams violence. His shoulders tense like coiled springs, and he snarls, giving me full view of his razor teeth.
The sound comes again, closer this time, before it branches into a staccato rhythm. It’s a sound that makes a cold tendril of fear wrap itself around my spine.
I remember that sound. From the night I was chased by the shadow creatures.
It’s them. They’ve found me here.
