Page 19 of Rok’s Captive (Barbarians of the Dust #1)

THAT WAS WEIRD. WANT TO DO IT AGAIN

ROK

S he is in pain.

Not the obvious agony of a claw wound or the burning torture of shadowmaw venom, but something quieter, deeper, more insidious. I can see it in the way she winces when she opens her eyes, in how she presses her fingertips to her temples, in the tight lines around her mouth.

Jus-teen has retreated to the far side of the cave, where the shadows are thickest, away from the shaft of Ain’s light that pierces through the cave’s opening. She leans against the cool stone wall, eyes closed more often than open, her breathing shallow but controlled.

A daughter of Ain, hiding from Ain’s gaze. It makes no sense, yet I have learned to accept that little about this strange female follows the patterns I understand.

I remain near the cave entrance, keeping watch for dangers that might approach. The shadowmaws will not return—not after I left their pack decimated in the dust—but there are other threats. Dust serpents that can sense movement from beneath the sand. Sandfins that follow the scent of blood. And always, the rival clans, who would see a lone Drakav and his…companion…as easy targets.

My gaze shifts to her again.

Her vocalizations are soft, strained, the tone revealing her discomfort. “This is ridiculous,” she says, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. “Just a stupid headache. I should be stronger than this.”

I watch her struggle to sit up straighter, wincing again as the motion seems to intensify whatever pain grips her.

“We should be moving,” she continues, gesturing weakly toward the cave entrance. “Finding water. Finding my sister. Not…sitting here because my head feels like it’s going to explode.”

She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Rok. I’m slowing us down. Just…give me a little longer, okay? Then we can go.”

I move toward her, plucking another fire bloom leaf from the crevice where they grow. These particular blooms are nearly depleted—we have taken much from them for our healing—but they will recover in time. The dust provides for those who respect its ways.

Carefully, I use a claw to strip away the tiny spines that line the leaf’s edges, removing anything that might harm her delicate skin. When it is safe, I offer it to her, crouching beside her with the leaf extended on my palm.

She looks at it, then at me, a small baring of her teeth despite her obvious discomfort. I bare mine back in this custom we’ve developed.

“More of your wonder plant?” she vocalizes, taking it from my hand. “I guess it can’t hurt.”

She takes a few bites, chewing slowly, grimacing at the bitter taste but forcing herself to swallow. After several mouthfuls, she sets the remainder aside and lies down, curling on her side, one arm braced beneath her head.

“Just for a moment,” she murmurs, her eyes already closing. “Just…need to rest…”

I watch her as she drifts into a light sleep, her breathing evening out, some of the tension easing from her face. The fire bloom will help, though perhaps not as quickly as it does for a Drakav. Her body is different, processes things differently. But it should provide some relief, some restoration.

And yet, as I watch over her, I become aware of something strange within myself. A sensation I cannot name, cannot identify from all my cycles of experience in the dust. Despite having consumed many fire bloom leaves to speed my own healing, there is something…off. Something altered in my system.

I do not know what.

My gaze returns to Jus-teen, drawn to her, as it has been since the moment I found her in the dust.

Everything has changed since finding her. Xiraxis has shifted, rearranged itself around her presence. And now that she has shared water with me…

Dust.

She shared water with me in the most peculiar way. Her lips against mine, a touch I had never felt before, soft yet firm, warm yet unlike any warmth I have known.

My claw rises to my lips, tracing the outline where she touched me. A shadow memory of contact that my body refuses to forget. Her tongue touching my mouth with just a taste of her water from within—but it was enough to send my systems into disarray. The glow beneath my skin had pulsed wildly, uncontrollably, lighting the cave as if all three moons shone at once. Even now, solmarks later, the memory causes the glow to flicker and surge.

I do not know why I can no longer control my glow. Worse, I do not know why she decided to share water in such a manner. It is not a thing we Drakav do.

I only know that I want her to do it again.

I want to feel it again.

But I worry for her, for how much water she has left to spare. She lost so much from her eyes—those strange, clear drops that fell like precious moisture wasted. I still do not understand why her body does these things, why it doesn’t perform the most basic function of any desert creature: conserve water at all costs.

Either way, it does not matter. I will find more water for her. That is what a hunter does—provides for those under his protection. And that means I will have to leave the safety of the cave, venture out into the dust where the water-bearing plants grow deep.

I rise from my crouch, moving toward the cave entrance. Ain is past her zenith now, beginning her slow descent toward the horizon. I can move quickly, gather what we need, and return before the worst dangers of dusk begin to stir.

I glance back at Jus-teen, still resting in the shadows. She should be safe here. This was once a resting cave. One me and my brothers used. We smeared the scent of sandfins near the entrance. A scent that still lingers. No other creatures will come near.

But…

As I step toward the entrance, preparing to leave, I stop short. Like a hook embedded in my chest pulling me backward, I return to Jus-teen’s side.

Strange.

I try again, but this time, with each step away from her, the feeling intensifies, a growing pain that has no source I can identify. I check my chest, but there is no wound.

“ Must be the beginnings of mind sickness .” I should not make such a joke. Mind sickness is truly debilitating.

I cannot imagine not being able to communicate with my clan. To be shut out. To lose the single thing that would keep me connected to?—

I freeze, understanding flooding through me like fresh water.

Jus-teen. The strange stone in her ear. The one I destroyed.

I did not understand her words when I crushed it, but I understood her eyes. The hurt. The despair. The fury. A storm of emotions raged across her face, all because of what I did.

The stone spoke in vocalizations like hers. Was that stone her connection? Was it communicating with her? And did I…destroy her hopes of this communication?

The thought settles like a boulder in my gut. I have lived my entire life connected to my clan through mind-speak, never truly alone, even when physically separated. But she—she is utterly isolated. The lone daughter of Ain. Dropped on a world with creatures she cannot speak to.

And I made it worse.

I still do not trust that ear stone. Still believe it was dangerous, unnatural. But I regret the pain I saw in her eyes. I regret causing her more suffering when she has already endured so much.

The memory of the water flowing freely from her eyes…I do not want to see such a sight again. Anything to prevent that.

I must make amends. Must hunt for her, bring her better nourishment than fire blooms, find water to replace what she has lost. Show her through actions what I cannot tell her through vocalizations or mind speak.

I turn back to the cave entrance, determined now, but the pain in my chest immediately flares again—sharper, more insistent, demanding I return to her side.

Cursed dust.

I pause at the cave entrance and look back again. She has not moved, has not awakened. But the pain grows more intense with each beat of my dra-kir .

This is…not normal. Not right. I am a scout and a hunter. I leave the clan caves for sols, sometimes several at a time, tracking prey across the vast dust. I have never felt this…tether before. This invisible vine binding me to another being. Not even to my brothers.

I try again, forcing myself to take another step into the dust. The pain sears, white-hot now, making my nostrils flare, and the glow beneath my skin rises and flickers erratically.

I try to dim it. My skin does not listen to me.

My gaze shifts back to the female. I…cannot leave her.

I return to the cave, moving silently to her side, and without conscious decision, I find myself sinking down beside her. Carefully, mindful of her delicate form, I gather her into my arms, cradling her against my chest as I did when carrying her through the dust.

The moment she is against me, the pain vanishes. Just…gone, as if it never existed, replaced by a sense of rightness, of completion, that I have never known before.

She stirs slightly, her face pressing against my chest, but does not wake. Her breath is warm against my skin, her dra-kir beating a quick, light rhythm I can feel through the thin hide she wears.

What is this? What is happening to me?

I have no answers, only questions that pile like dust in a storm, swirling and obscuring any clarity I might find. All I know with certainty is that I cannot leave her, cannot be separated from her without experiencing that strange, pulling pain.

She shifts in my arms, murmuring something in her sleep, her hand coming up to rest against my chest, directly over the place where that strange pain had centered. The glow beneath my skin pulses gently beneath her palm, responding to her touch again without my input.

I sit with her like this for what feels like an eternity, watching her breathe, feeling the warmth of her against me, trying to understand this new reality in which I find myself bound.

The light in the cave shifts as Ain continues her journey across the sky. Soon, it will be dusk. The most dangerous time in the dust, when the day hunters return to their dens and the night predators emerge, hungry for the first meal of their waking hours.

We cannot stay here. The fire blooms are nearly gone, and without water, neither of us will survive much longer. I must hunt. Must find sustenance. But I cannot leave her.

There is only one solution.

With a gentle motion, I adjust my hold on her, lifting her against my chest as I stand. She murmurs something, nestling closer, but does not fully wake.

I move toward the cave entrance, pausing only to scan the horizon for immediate threats. The dust stretches out before me, golden and deceptively peaceful in Ain’s fading light. In the distance, a whirlwind spins lazily, picking up dust and carrying it skyward.

I step out of the cave’s protection, Jus-teen cradled securely in my arms. The pain in my chest remains blissfully absent as long as she is with me. Carrying her like this will make hunting more difficult—impossible to move with my usual speed and stealth—but there is no choice.

We will find water together or perish together in the attempt.

As I begin the long trek toward the distant hidden spring, a flicker of movement catches my eye—something on the horizon, fast-moving, kicking up dust in its wake.

Not a whirlwind. Not a natural phenomenon.

Hunters. Coming this way.

And from their trajectory, I know with grim certainty—they are not of my clan.