Page 12 of Rok’s Captive (Barbarians of the Dust #1)

YOUR CAT ISN’T THE ONLY ONE THAT LIKES HIGH PLACES

JUSTINE

I don’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 it does matter. 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.

“Okay, listen up, big guy,” I snap. All patience has—poof—gone. “You can’t keep me here! I don’t belong to you. I don’t belong here!”

My voice cracks on the last word, and to my horror, I feel tears welling up again. It’s all too much—the lost earring, the unnervingly attractive alien refusing to let me leave, the growing fear that I might never see Jacqui or home again.

“Please,” I say, the fight draining out of me. “Just let me go.”

For a long moment, he stares at me, those golden eyes searching my face as if he’s trying to decipher what I’m feeling. Then, with a sound that reminds me of a long-suffering sigh, he steps aside.

Relief floods through me. “Thank you,” I breathe, hurrying past him before he can change his mind.

I step out of the cave, squinting in the bright morning sunlight, ready to begin the long trek back to where I last saw the others.

And that’s when the world seems to fall away beneath my feet.

“Holy shit!”

I scramble backward, nearly colliding with the alien who’s followed me out. My hands find the rough stone of the cave entrance, gripping it for support as I stare out at…nothing. Just open air and a drop that makes my stomach lurch.

We’re not on the ground. Not even close. The cave is set into the side of a towering rock formation, a jagged spire that rises hundreds of feet above the desert floor. Below us stretches an endless sea of sand, rippling like water in the morning light. The sun is just cresting the horizon, painting the desert in shades of gold and amber, and from this height, I can see for miles in every direction.

It’s breathtaking. And terrifying.

“We’re on a cliff,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “A really, really high cliff.”

I turn to the alien, who’s watching me with that intensity again.

“You carried me up here,” I realize. “Last night. When we were running from those things. I felt you climbing, but I didn’t realize we were going up a freaking mountain.”

He makes that rumbling sound again, and now I’m certain it’s the alien equivalent of a chuckle.

“This isn’t funny!” But even as I say it, a hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. “Oh my god, I was about to waltz right off a cliff.”

I peer over the edge again, trying to see a path down. There’s nothing but sheer rock face, with occasional ledges and outcroppings that might be handholds for someone with claws and superhuman strength, but certainly not for a clumsy human like me.

“Okay,” I say, trying to keep the panic from my voice. “Okay. This is…this is a problem. A big problem. I need to get down from here, but unless you’ve got a parachute hidden somewhere—which, let’s be honest, would look ridiculous on you—I’m going to need your help.”

The alien tilts his head, watching me with that intense focus that still makes my skin prickle.

“Do you understand? I need to go.” I point down at the desert floor, then at myself. “Me. Go. Down. To find my people.”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t react. Just keeps staring at me with those unnerving golden eyes.

“Okay, let’s try something else.” I take a deep breath and resort to the universal language of desperate humans—charades. I point to myself, then down at the ground far below. When he doesn’t react, I frown. “Fuck this.” Crouching down, I resort to my less-than-stellar art skills and start drawing in the thin layer of sand near the cave entrance.

With my finger, I sketch out a crude landscape—a wavy line for the horizon, the spiry shape of the rock formation that I’d set out to reach first, and a stick figure with wild hair that’s supposed to be me. I point to the stick figure, then to myself, then to the rock formations.

“I need to go there,” I say slowly, tapping the drawing. “Back to where I came from. To my friends. You know, other people like me? Smaller than you, not glowy, probably sunburned and freaking out right now?”

The alien crouches beside me, studying my childlike drawing with such intense focus that I half expect him to critique my artistic skills. His expression shifts, his brow furrowing in what looks like confusion. Or is it disgust? Anger? It’s hard to tell with a face that’s not quite human.

“Please,” I try again. “I need your help to get down from here.”

He makes a sound—harsher than before, almost like a snarl—rises and turns away from me, heading back toward the cave entrance.

“Hey!” I follow after him. “Don’t you walk away from me! You brought me up here. You’re responsible for getting me down!”

He stops so suddenly I nearly run into his back. When he turns to face me, there’s something new in his expression—something that makes me take an involuntary step backward.

“Okay,” I say, holding up my hands in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or whatever alien cultural taboo I just stepped on. But you have to understand—I’m trapped up here. I can’t climb down on my own. I’ll die.”

His expression softens slightly, but he makes no move to help.

“Fine,” I mutter, running a hand through my tangled hair. “Just great. Saved from heat exhaustion only to die of starvation on a cliff with an alien who suddenly decides to be useless.”

I pace along the narrow ledge outside the cave, frustration building with each step. “This is ridiculous. I don’t know why I thought this would work. ‘Oh, let’s try to reason with the seven-foot alien predator who can’t understand a word I’m saying.’ Brilliant plan, Justine. Really stellar work.”

I’m freaking out and I know it.

Problem is, I can’t stop.

Meanwhile, the alien watches my ranting with something that almost looks like awestruck amusement, and that just makes me angrier.

“You think this is funny? You?—”

I don’t get to finish the sentence because suddenly the world tilts around me. Strong arms scoop me up, and before I can process what’s happening, I’m cradled against a broad chest, my feet dangling in the air.

“What are you—put me down!” I squirm in his grasp, but it’s like trying to move a mountain. “I swear, if you don’t?—”

He turns, carrying me to the edge of the cliff, and I get a dizzying view of the drop below.

“No, no, no! What are you doing? Don’t you dare?—”

His grip tightens, securing me against his chest, and he looks down at me with what I swear is a mischievous glint in those golden eyes.

“If you throw me off this cliff, I swear I will come back and haunt you for the rest of your glowy alien existence!”

He makes that rumbling sound again—definitely laughter—and then, without warning, he just…steps off the edge.

I scream. I scream like I’ve never screamed before, a sound that tears from my throat as we plummet through open air. My arms lock around his neck in a death grip, my face buried against his chest.

This is it. This is how I die. Not from heat exhaustion or alien predators, but from being thrown off a cliff by a lunatic alien who thought it would be funny.

Except…we’re not falling. Not really.

I risk opening one eye, then the other, and what I see doesn’t make sense. We’re moving down the cliff face, but in controlled bounds—leaping from one tiny outcropping to another with impossible grace. Each landing is smooth, barely a jolt, before he launches us toward the next foothold.

It’s like watching a mountain goat navigate a sheer cliff, except this “goat” is carrying a terrified human. The inhuman strength of his grip is impossible to ignore—those powerful arms holding me against him with a pressure that’s somehow both gentle and unyielding. His hands are firm, confident, effortlessly supporting my weight as if I’m nothing more than a child’s doll. It’s terrifying and yet…strangely reassuring.

“Oh my god,” I breathe, my heart still pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. “You’re insane. You are actually insane.”

He makes that rumbling sound again, and this time I can feel it vibrate through his chest where I’m pressed against him.

“This isn’t funny!” But even as I say it, a hysterical laugh bubbles up inside me, too. “I don’t know what I imagined when I asked you to take me down, but it wasn’t this! ”

We continue our descent in great, bounding leaps that somehow manage to be both terrifying and graceful. With each jump, my stomach lurches, but his arms hold me secure, his body absorbing the impact of each landing.

The ground rushes up to meet us faster than seems possible, and with one final, powerful leap, we’re suddenly on the desert floor, standing in sand that’s already warming in the morning sun.

He doesn’t set me down immediately, and I don’t ask him to. For a moment, we just stay like that—me cradled in his arms, my heart still racing, his golden eyes studying my face with that same intense focus. His arms tighten slightly, claws skimming lightly against my side in a way that sends unexpected shivers through me. There’s a rumble deep in his chest—a sound of pure, unmistakable satisfaction, like he’s thoroughly enjoying holding me this close.

“That was…” I struggle to find the right word. Terrifying? Exhilarating? Completely insane? “…something.” Pushing past the heavy breaths wracking my chest, I force a grin.

The alien blinks, gaze shifting to my lips.

His mouth curves in what might be a smile—though with those sharp teeth, it’s hard to tell if it’s meant to be friendly or menacing.

Slowly, carefully, he lowers me to my feet. My legs feel wobbly, like I’ve just stepped off a roller coaster, and I have to steady myself against his arm.

“Thanks, I think,” I say, looking up at him. “Although a little warning next time would be nice.”

He tilts his head, that now-familiar gesture that seems to say he’s trying to understand me but isn’t quite there yet.

“So,” I say, looking around at the vast desert stretching in all directions. “Where to now?”