Page 64 of Tharn's Hunt
And suddenly, I have the sinking feeling that "water sharing" might mean something very different to aliens than it does to humans.
It's been hours,and my head is still spinning.
Justine has filled me in on some of what's happened since the crash. How she was rescued by Rok (and yes, that’s his real name), how he kept her alive, brought her to his tribe, and how they rescued the other survivors. But my brain keeps snagging on one unbelievable detail: Tharn has been talking to me this whole time. Or at least, trying to.
I stop breathing, a new, horrifying thought dawning. "Wait. When I was sick... when I had the fever... I thought..." I press my fingers to my temples. "I thought we were having conversations. I could hear his voice in my head. He told me I wouldn't die. He called me 'precious one'." I look at Justine, my heart hammering. "I told myself it was just a dream. A hallucination. Was it...?"
Justine's expression softens with a sympathy that is almost worse than her mockery. She gives a small, hesitant nod. "If you heard him, Jacqui... it was real."
The air leaves my lungs in a rush.
It was real.
All of it. His desperation as he carried me. His commands for me to live. His clumsy attempts to push my tears back into my face. My own slurred, delirious confession that I didn't want him to die, either. He heard it all. He felt it all.
The embarrassment I felt before is nothing compared to the wave of heat that floods me now. It's a full-body blush of pure, unadulterated mortification.
I groan and press my hands over my face, wishing I could just disappear. "Oh my god. He must think I'm a complete lunatic."
Justine snorts. "If it makes you feel better, he can’t understandeverythingyou say. The connection isn’t there yet. And he doesn’t think you’re a fool. He carried you across half the desert while you were dying, remember? That's not something you do for someone you think is an idiot."
My brain latches on to another detail she dropped casually earlier. Too casually. Like it wasn't world-shattering.
She and Rok are a thing.
My brain stumbles over the thought, sputtering like a broken engine.My sister is fucking an alien.
A sentence that would have been utterly ridiculous—hell, impossible—just weeks ago. But now... my gaze shifts to Tharn, who is, surprise surprise, watching me with the focus of a predator. Suddenly... it doesn’t seem so ridiculous.
Oh no.Shoot me now.
"Great," I say, pulling my gaze from Tharn and swallowing past the shiver his attention sends down my spine. "So he just thinks I'm a helpless damsel who can't survive two minutes without him saving me. Much better."
Justine rolls her eyes. "Stop catastrophizing. It's not a good look on you."
Easy for her to say. She's somehow managed to become best friends with these aliens, develop telepathic powers, and probably learn their entire language while I've been busy trying not to die. Even in an alien apocalypse, Justine manages to thrive while I'm barely surviving on good looks and dumb luck.
I push myself up to a sitting position, wincing as my muscles protest. I'm still weak from the fever, but at least I'm not burning up anymore. Small victories.
My gaze drifts automatically to Tharn once more. He’s been hovering for the past few hours. Near enough to watch me but far enough to maintain some kind of distance. He's pacing now, moving back and forth along the far wall of the cave like a caged animal. Every few steps, he pauses, his hand going to his chest as if something there pains him.
It's not the first time I've noticed him doing this. Ever since I woke up, he's been rubbing at his chest, sometimes clutching it like he's having heartburn or something. Is he sick, too? Did he catch whatever I had?
I watch as he stops again, wincing slightly as his hand presses against his sternum. His glow pulses beneath his skin, brightest where his palm rests. It's almost beautiful, the way the light ebbs and flows like sunlight on water.
Wait. What if...
I narrow my eyes, focusing intently on Tharn. If my sister can telepathically communicate with these aliens, why can't I? Maybe I'm just not trying hard enough.
I concentrate, staring at Tharn with everything I've got. “Can you hear me?” I think as loudly as possible, imagining the words shooting from my brain to his.
Nothing. Not even a twitch of acknowledgment.
I try again, squinting harder. “HELLO? THARN? THIS IS JACQUI'S BRAIN CALLING THARN'S BRAIN. OVER.”
Still nothing. Tharn continues his pacing, oblivious to my mental shouting.
Fine. Maybe I need to be more direct. I take a deep breath and try once more, visualizing a direct line between us, like a golden thread connecting my mind to his.
