Page 11 of Rok’s Captive (Barbarians of the Dust #1)

SOOOO…AWKWARD MORNING-AFTER VIBES CAN BE EXTRATERRESTRIAL. YOU LEARN SOMETHING NEW EVERY DAY

JUSTINE

W armth.

That’s the first thing I register as consciousness seeps back into my brain. Not the burning, feverish heat that had consumed me, but something else—something almost pleasant. A solid warmth against my side, cradling me like a cocoon.

My eyes flutter open, vision still blurry with sleep. Golden light fills the small cave, casting long shadows across the stone floor. It takes me a moment to realize that the light isn’t just coming from the sun—it’s also emanating from whatever I’m pressed against.

Then I feel it. The rhythmic rise and fall beneath my cheek. The solid mass of…something…I’m curled against.

Someone .

The memory of last night crashes back—the fever, the delirium, the alien—and I jerk upright so fast my vision swims.

“Holy shit!”

The alien—he’s sitting propped against the cave wall, and I’m in his lap . I was sleeping in his freaking lap, my head on his chest like he’s my personal body pillow. And he’s just…staring at me, those golden eyes unblinking, his skin glowing softly in the early morning light.

I scramble backward, stumbling and rolling in my haste to put some distance between us. My body lands on stone, the sensation of them shooting through me, and that’s when another realization hits me.

I’m still in my underwear. In my underwear , in an alien’s lap.

“What the actual fuck,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest, suddenly hyperaware of how exposed I am. “What…how…I mean…” I gesture vaguely between us, as if that explains anything.

He just watches me, head tilted slightly to one side, that same inscrutable expression on his face. The markings on his skin pulse gently. With the light streaming in, it’s even more riveting.

“I was dying,” I say, more to myself than to him. “I was literally burning up. And now I’m…fine?” I press a hand to my forehead. No fever. Not even a hint of it. It’s like it never happened. “That’s not how heat exhaustion works. That’s not how anything works.”

I look around the cave, trying to piece together what happened after I passed out. The smooth stones are still arranged in a circle where he placed them. My clothes are scattered across the floor where I’d discarded them in my fever-induced delirium.

“Did you…take care of me all night?” I ask, knowing he can’t understand me but needing to fill the silence anyway.

He rises to his feet in one fluid motion, and I’m struck again by how large he is—towering over me, all lean muscle and strange, alien grace. He crosses the cave in one stride, crouching in front of me, close enough that I can feel the coolness flowing off his skin. I honestly swore his skin was hot, warm at least, yesterday.

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to back away again. “Look, uh, thank you. For whatever you did. I was in pretty bad shape, and I…well, I’m clearly better now, so…thanks for the alien nursing service, I guess?”

His eyes narrow slightly, scanning my face with an intensity that makes my skin prickle. Then, slowly, he reaches out, one clawed finger hovering near my temple.

I freeze, breath catching in my throat. The claw gently brushes a strand of hair from my face, the touch so delicate it barely registers.

“Okay,” I whisper, and I hate how breathy my voice sounds. “So that’s…that’s a thing that’s happening.”

The blazing sun streams in through the cave entrance, reminding me that time is passing. Jacqui and the others must be worried sick by now. I need to get back to them, explain what happened, figure out our next move.

“I’ve got to go,” I say, gesturing toward the cave entrance. “People waiting for me. Probably thinking I’m dead in a ditch. Or whatever the alien desert equivalent of a ditch is.”

I move to stand, and he rises with me, his massive form blocking the sunlight, casting me in shadow. For a moment, I think he’s going to stop me, but he just stands there, watching with that same unreadable expression.

“Right. Clothes first.” I spot my discarded outfit and make my way toward it, painfully aware of his eyes on me the entire time. “Don’t suppose you have any privacy curtains in this five-star desert accommodation?”

I reach for my blouse, trying to ignore the way my cheeks heat up. It’s ridiculous to be embarrassed—he’s already seen me in my underwear all night. Hell, he was holding me in my underwear all night. But something about being conscious for it makes it a thousand times more awkward.

As I grab my blouse, flashes of memory surface—his arms around me, the solid strength of his chest beneath my cheek, the strange, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. Or whatever alien equivalent of a heart he has.

The memory sends a shiver down my spine, and I quickly look away, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my belly. That’s not supposed to be happening. Not now. Not to him.

I feel my face grow hotter, and I duck my head, hoping he can’t see the fact I’m blushing, or that if he does, he won’t know why I’m turning red.

No such luck.

He’s suddenly there, moving with that soundless grace that still catches me off guard. His hand—so much larger than mine—cups the air between us before his fingertip barely grazes my cheek. The sensation is a whisper, a breath against my skin, cool and unfamiliar. My breath hitches, a jolt going through me that has nothing to do with fear.

“I’m fine,” I stammer. Clearing my throat, I take a step back. “Just, uh, human stuff. You know, embarrassment? About being practically naked in the arms of a strange alien all night? Normal Tuesday for some people, I guess, but kind of a first for me.”

His brow furrows, and for all his alienness, I can read concern in the expression as clearly as if he were human.

“Really, I’m okay,” I say, softer now. “Just…a little weirded out by all this.” And breathless, apparently. I gesture vaguely between us again. A flicker of something I don’t recognize goes through me and I look away quickly, suddenly very interested in a random spot on the cave wall. It’s as if something, some energy, has shifted in the air between us. Like static electricity before a storm. I don’t like it. And then I remember the burning ache that had made me want to grind my hips on something during my delirium.

I don’t know what the fuck is happening.

He makes a sound—a low rumble that I feel more than hear—and steps back, giving me space. It’s such a considerate gesture that I find myself smiling despite everything.

“Thanks.”

I turn back to my clothes, determined to get dressed and get moving. But first, maybe one more attempt at communication wouldn’t hurt. He seems…more receptive today.

“Justine,” I say, pointing to myself. “Jus-tine. That’s my name.”

He watches intently, and for a moment, I think he might try to repeat it. Instead, he just stares, his golden eyes fixed on my face with such focus it’s like he’s trying to memorize every detail.

“Right. Well, ditto, buddy,” I mutter. “Can’t wait to tell Jacqui about you. She’s never going to believe any of this.”

I turn my attention back to my clothes, pulling my blouse over my head. When I reach for my pants, though, they’re suddenly gone.

I look up to find the alien holding them, examining the fabric with an expression of what I can only describe as distaste.

“Hey!” I lunge for them, but he steps back, holding them easily out of reach. “Give those back!”

He makes another one of those rumbling sounds, but this one seems almost…playful?

“I need those,” I say, trying to sound stern, but I’m failing miserably. “I can’t go walking around like a voyeur the way you do.”

I make another grab for them, and he sidesteps me with insulting ease. His skin pulses brighter, and I swear there’s a hint of amusement in those alien eyes.

“Oh my god, are you seriously playing keep-away with my pants right now? What are you, five?”

I chase him around the small cave, acutely aware of how ridiculous this must look—me in my blouse and underwear, hopping after a seven-foot alien who’s holding my pants like they’re some kind of prize.

“Give them back, you overgrown glow-stick!”

He dodges again, but this time I anticipate his movement and change direction, almost colliding with his chest. I reach up, stretching as far as I can, fingertips just brushing the fabric.

“Ha!” I jump, snatching them from his grasp. “Victory!”

The alien makes that rumbling sound again, and this time I’m almost certain it’s laughter—or whatever passes for it among his kind. The thought makes something flutter in my chest, a strange warmth that has nothing to do with fever.

I shake it off, focusing on pulling my pants on as quickly as possible. “Very funny. Hilarious. You should take that act on the road.”

Once dressed, I feel marginally more in control of the situation. I smooth my hands over my clothes, trying to look somewhat presentable despite having spent the night in a cave.

Meanwhile, the alien has moved away, crouching by the stones he’d arranged. He picks up a larger rock and begins crushing something—the leaf he’d used to bring me water, I realize. Why he’s destroying it, I have no idea, but alien customs aren’t exactly my area of expertise.

I shrug and finish getting ready, pushing my hair back from my face and tucking it behind my ears. That’s when I feel it—or rather, don’t feel it.

My hand freezes, fingers brushing against my bare earlobe.

“No. No, no, no,” I whisper, my voice rising with panic as I drop to my knees and scan the cave floor. “It has to be here. It has to be.”

The alien looks up from his work with the stones, watching as I desperately crawl around the cave, running my hands over every inch of stone.

“My earring,” I say, touching my naked earlobe to demonstrate even though I know he can’t understand. “It’s gone. It’s—” My voice catches, and to my horror, I feel tears pricking at my eyes. “It was my mom’s. She gave them to me right before she—before she?—”

I can’t finish the sentence. I never can. Instead, I continue searching, panic mounting with each passing second. It could be anywhere—lodged in a tiny crevice, buried in the dust, lost forever in this godforsaken alien wasteland.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice cracking as I crawl toward where I’d been lying during the fever. “Please be here. Please.”

I dig my fingers through the sand settled there. Nothing. My heart sinks further with each empty handful.

“This can’t be happening,” I mutter, crawling faster now, more frantic. “Not the earrings. Anything but those.” The tears I hold back blur my vision as I search. “I’ve already lost everything else.”

I’m so consumed by my search that I don’t notice the alien moving until a shadow falls across me. I’m about to look up when a sound stops me cold.

“Jus-teen.”

The voice is so rough, so guttural—like stone grinding against stone—that for a moment I don’t recognize it as speech. When it registers, I freeze completely, my hands hovering above the ground.

Slowly, I look up.

The alien is standing over me, those golden eyes fixed on my face with an intensity that makes my breath catch. His mouth—that strange, alien mouth with its sharp teeth—is slightly open, as if he’s surprised himself.

“You—” I stammer, momentarily forgetting about the earring. “You can talk ?”

He doesn’t respond, just continues staring at me with that same intense focus.

“Say something else,” I urge, rising to my knees. “Anything.”

He remains silent, but slowly crouches down to my level, bringing his face closer to mine.

The world seems to shrink around us, the cave walls fading away until all I can see is him—those topaz eyes flecked with gold, the strange patterns of light beneath his skin, the sharp angles of his face. He’s so close now that I can feel his breath on my lips. My heart hammers against my ribs as he just stays there, studying me with such intensity that it feels like he’s looking straight through to my soul.

I should move back. I should put some distance between us. But I don’t. I can’t. It’s like I’m paralyzed, caught in the gravity of his presence. The rest of the universe has disappeared, and there’s only this—only him—filling my entire field of vision, consuming every one of my senses.

Finally, his gaze slides from mine. Shifts to something to the side. To the crushed leaf he’d been working on, reduced to a paste, with some of it coating one long finger.

“So you can talk,” I whisper, gaze traveling over his face. “You’ve understood me this whole time? Or just my name? Why haven’t you?—”

“Jus-teen.”

I gulp.

That strange rasp is like he hasn’t spoken in years, maybe never. It sends a shiver down my spine. I can’t look away from him.

He leans in, even closer than before, his gaze sliding to my lips.

“What are you?—”

Before I can react, he raises his finger—the one coated with the crushed leaf paste—and brings it to my lips.

That’s all I manage before his finger slides between my lips. The paste is bitter and herbal, with an underlying sweetness that reminds me of molasses or licorice. I instinctively suck, trying to swallow the strange substance before I have time to think better of it.

The alien makes a sound the moment my lips enclose his finger—a low grunt that seems to come from deep in his chest—and his pupils dilate sharply, consuming the gold of his irises.

Something flutters low in my belly in response, a sensation so unexpected that I jerk back, his finger slipping from my mouth.

“What was that?” I ask, my voice embarrassingly breathless. “What did you just give me?”

He doesn’t answer, of course. Maybe “Jus-teen” is the only word he knows, or the only one he can pronounce with that alien mouth of his. But his eyes remain fixed on my lips, and there’s something in his expression that makes heat rise to my cheeks.

“I need to find my earring,” I say, trying to focus. “It’s important. It’s?—”

“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.