Page 48 of Tharn's Hunt
My laughter redoubles, tears springing to my eyes. I'm so caught up in the moment that I don't notice the uneven ground ahead. My foot catches on a rock hidden in the sand, and suddenly I'm pitching forward, arms windmilling uselessly.
Before I can face-plant, strong hands catch me, steadying me effortlessly. I find myself pulled against Tharn's chest, his arms around me, his leathery warm scent filling my nostrils.
Our eyes meet, and something electric passes between us. His glow brightens where our skin touches, pulsing in time with what feels like both our heartbeats. For a moment, I can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but feel the solid warmth of him against me.
His eyes drop to my lips, just for a second, but long enough to send a jolt of... something... through my entire body.
Oh. Oh no.
I pull away quickly, brushing sand from my clothes with more force and focus than the situation warrants. "Thanks for the save," I say, my voice a slightly higher thing than normal. "Good reflexes. Very... helpful."
He watches me, something unreadable in his expression.
I force down a swallow.
"We should, um, keep moving," I say, gesturing vaguely ahead. "Places to go, sisters to find and all that."
His gaze lingers on me a beat too long before he turns to lead the way once more.
Well, that was... something.
Something I absolutely do not have time to think about right now. Or possibly ever.
We continue walking, the silence between us different now. Charged with an awareness I'm not ready to acknowledge. I focus instead on the horizon, on putting one foot in front of the other, on the goal that's driven me since I left the transport wreckage.
Find Justine. Survive. Go home.
Simple. Straightforward. Definitely not complicated by whatever just happened.
By the time the sun begins its descent, we've reached the base of a cliff formation that rises abruptly from the desert floor. Tharn leads me to a narrow fissure in the rock face, barely visible until we're right in front of it. He gestures for me to go first, his expression clearly saying, "This is where we'll camp."
I squeeze through the opening, which widens into a small cavern—more of an alcove, really—sheltered from the wind and hidden from view. The floor is sandy but level, and the ceiling is high enough that even Tharn can stand upright.
"Nice find," I say, hoping my voice communicates my appreciation. "Cozy."
Tharn does that chin tilt of his head. Before I can decipher what he means, he’s leaving. I watch him go, a strange twinge in my chest at even this brief separation.
Get it together, Jacqui. He's just getting firewood or something. Not abandoning you in the desert.
I busy myself arranging our sleeping area, clearing away larger stones, and smoothing the sand as best I can. By the time Tharn returns, arms laden with what looks like the carcasses of those small, lizard-like creatures, I've created a reasonably comfortable spot.
"Dinner?" I ask, pointing to the dead animals.
He does the chin tilt, setting to work immediately. I watch, still fascinated by the careful precision of his movements as he prepares the creature. For someone with claws that can tear through a living thing’s spine, he's remarkably delicate when the situation calls for it.
Once the fire is lit and the meat is cooking, Tharn settles beside me, his larger body radiating heat in the cooling evening air. We sit in silence, watching the flames dance, the familiar routine of camp-making somehow grounding despite the alien surroundings.
"We make a good team," I say softly, more to myself than to him. "Who'd have thought, right? Human girl and alien warrior, surviving the desert together."
He glances at me, the firelight reflecting in his amber eyes, turning them to molten gold. Something in his expression makes my heart skip a beat. There’s warmth there; an intensity that goes beyond simple companionship.
I look away quickly, focusing on the cooking meat. "Food's almost done," I say, though I have no idea if it is or not. "Smells good."
When we eat, the flavors are rich and savory. I suppose I've gotten used to alien cuisine now. Surprisingly (or it could just be the fact I’m a foodie), I like it.
After we've eaten, I move to the entrance of our shelter, gazing out at the desert night. The sky here is nothing like Earth's. The stars are different, arranged in patterns I don't recognize, and there are three moons, each a different sizeand color, hanging low on the horizon. Despite that, their light hardly reaches the surface.
It's beautiful, in a haunting, alien way.
