Page 25 of Rok’s Captive (Barbarians of the Dust #1)

THIS IS FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE. I’M TOTALLY FINE

JUSTINE

R ok won’t look at me.

He’s been pacing for hours, his movements growing increasingly agitated with each pass across the cave floor. Every few minutes, he pauses to stare at the entrance, nostrils flaring, head tilted as if listening for something I can’t hear.

“Are they still out there?” I ask, even though I know he can’t understand me. “The other aliens?”

No response. Just more pacing, his claws scraping against stone with each turn.

I watch him from where I’m sitting by the small fire, the remains of the last lizard-thing long since picked clean. The cave has grown darker as the day progresses, shadows lengthening as the light filtering through the ceiling cracks changes from harsh white to a softer gold.

Rok’s behavior is…concerning. He’s always been a bit wild—I mean, I knew that from the moment I met him—but this is different. There’s a frantic quality to his movements, a tension in his shoulders I haven’t seen before. His glow pulses erratically beneath his skin, flaring brighter whenever he glances my way.

Which isn’t often.

In fact, he seems to be going out of his way to avoid looking at me. Like making eye contact might somehow hurt him.

“You know, the silent treatment is getting a little old,” I say, mostly to fill the uncomfortable silence. “Especially now that I know you can actually talk. Sort of.”

I still can’t wrap my head around it. His voice in my mind—clear as day, rich and deep with that strange accent I can’t place. Not some hallucination or fever dream, but actual communication.

Telepathy. Actual honest-to-God telepathy.

“The longer I stay on this hellscape of a planet, the weirder things get,” I mutter, poking at the fire with the bone stick. “Next thing you know, I’ll be growing a third eye or developing the ability to shoot laser beams from my fingertips.”

I glance up, half hoping for a reaction, but Rok is focused intently on the cave entrance again, his body tense and alert.

“You said there was danger,” I say, my tone more serious now. “Is it those other aliens? The ones who were hunting you?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch to suggest he’s heard me.

I sigh, setting the bone aside and drawing my knees up to my chest. “If we could just talk properly, this would be so much easier. All those times you’ve been staring at me—were you trying to communicate? Was I just too dense to hear you?”

The thought makes something sour swell in my chest. How frustrating must it have been for him, trying to reach me while I remained oblivious?

“Maybe it’s this place,” I say, gesturing vaguely around us. “Maybe the longer I’m stuck under Bitch Sun, the more I’m adapting. Developing new skills. Like hearing voices in my head.”

I laugh, but there’s no mirth in it.

“That’s it. I’m officially going crazy. Next, I’ll be naming the rocks and having deep conversations with that pool over there.”

But I know I’m not imagining it. His voice was real—as real as anything can be on this strange, impossible world.

Through the corner of my eye, I catch Rok watching me, his gaze intense and burning. He looks away the moment I turn toward him, but not before I see something in his expression that sends a delicious shiver down my spine.

Hunger.

The memory of what happened between us rushes back, almost overwhelming. His mouth on me. The way my body responded to him, as if he knew exactly what I needed before I did. The pleasure that had crashed over me. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

I press my thighs together, trying to ignore the heat building low in my belly. Not the time, Justine. Not the time .

But apparently my body hasn’t gotten that memo. Because even now, with Rok clearly struggling with…whatever he’s struggling with, I can’t stop thinking about his hands on my skin, his tongue on my…the way he licked my…Fuck.

“Focus,” I mutter to myself, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. “We need to get out of here, find the others, and figure out how to get off this planet. No time for interspecies hookups, no matter how mind-blowing they might be.”

When I look up again, the cave has grown noticeably darker. The light filtering through the cracks has faded to a deep amber, signaling the approach of night. Rok has stopped pacing, his attention now fixed on me, his expression unreadable in the growing shadows.

For several long moments, neither of us moves. The only sounds are the occasional pop of the fire stones and the distant, eerie howl of wind through the stone formations outside.

Then, without warning, Rok moves toward me.

“Rok?” I whisper.

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken. His eyes are locked on mine, and just the look in those eyes has my thoughts shooting back to what happened between us earlier. I swallow hard.

The closer he gets, the more I notice the tremors running through his body. His claws curl and flex at his sides, as if he’s fighting to keep himself grounded.

Oh God.

Something’s wrong—something worse than I thought.

I swallow again, my stomach filling with dread. He’s always been strange to me—he’s an alien, after all—but this is different. The careful control he’s always maintained, even in his most primal moments, is gone. Ever since…

Oh fuck.

The realization makes the cave go cold.

The Xyma water.

What if I poisoned him? What if something in the water—something I didn’t even realize was dangerous—did this to him?

“Rok?” I say again, louder this time, my voice rising with panic.

Still, he doesn’t respond.

When he finally reaches me, he sinks into a crouch, his broad shoulders trembling with the effort. Each inhalation shudders through him like it hurts to draw breath.

“Rok, look at me,” I whisper. “Please, tell me. Are you okay? Did I—did I hurt you?”

His head lifts at my words, his molten gold eyes locking onto mine with a force that steals the air from my lungs.

Despite the tremors wracking his powerful frame, despite the tension coiling through every muscle in his body, his touch, when it comes, is exquisitely gentle.

His hands come up to cradle my face. The warmth of his palms seeps into my skin, and I almost release a moan.

I freeze, my breath hitching.

“Rok…” I whisper.

His thumbs brush along my jaw, and for a moment, I forget everything—the fear, the uncertainty. There’s only him, his touch, his eyes burning into mine with a desperation I don’t understand.

And yet…

I can see that this is costing him.

His glow flickers, dimming and brightening, dimming and brightening, as if the effort of touching me is too much. His claws twitch against my skin, as if he’s struggling to hold himself back.

“Why are you doing this?” I murmur, my voice barely audible. “If it hurts you, why?—”

He leans forward then, slowly, pressing his forehead to mine.

I gasp softly at the contact, my heart pounding in my chest as his warmth surrounds me. His breath fans against my lips, ragged and strained, as his body trembles against mine.

For a moment, neither of us moves.

We just stay like that, forehead to forehead, his hands cradling my face, my fingers clutching at his wrists.

His eyes flutter closed, and I can’t help but stare at him, at the way his features soften even as his body remains tense.

“This is almost more intense than French kissing,” I whisper, but the joke falls flat even to my ears.

I close my eyes as Rok’s fingers tighten slightly against my jaw, and then?—

His voice fills my mind.

Urgent. Strained.

“ Leave. We must hurry .”

A lump forms in my throat as I open my eyes. He’s already staring at me, his molten gold gaze piercing through the darkening shadows of the cave. His eyes are wild, desperate, and for a moment, I can’t breathe.

“Yes,” I whisper, the sound barely audible. “We should.”

His gaze flickers down to my lips, lingering there, and my heart stutters in my chest. Without thinking, my tongue runs over them like an invitation.

Kiss him .

“We can’t.” The words leave my lips, but they lack conviction.

I know what he wants.

I know it in the way his glow pulses erratically beneath his skin, the way his hands tremble as they cradle my face.

The air between us crackles like a live wire, coiling tighter, brighter, until it feels like the cave itself might ignite.

And then I think: Why not?

Before I can second-guess myself, I close the small distance between us, pressing my lips to his.

It’s soft at first, tentative. His lips are warm, and they mold to mine perfectly.

But then something shifts.

A low growl rumbles from his chest, and his hands tighten against my jaw, pulling me closer. The kiss deepens, his mouth claiming mine with a hunger that steals the breath from my lungs.

I gasp into him, my fingers tangling in his hair—soft, surprisingly soft—and he groans, the sound vibrating through me.

His lips part mine, his tongue sweeping inside, and I’m lost.

Completely and utterly lost.

Rok kisses me as if he’s starving. As if he wants every part of me.

It’s overwhelming, intense, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. His kiss is wild and consuming, a force of nature that sets every nerve in my body ablaze.

I don’t even realize I’ve wrapped my legs around his waist until he lifts me, his strong arms cradling me as if I weigh nothing.

My thighs tighten around him instinctively, and he staggers forward, pressing me against the cool stone wall.

The contrast between the cold rock and his fiery warmth sends a shiver racing down my spine.

“Oh fuck,” I gasp and he growls again, his lips trailing down my jaw to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. My head tilts back, a moan escaping me as his mouth finds the hollow of my throat.

I’ve never been this turned on in my life.

Wait—didn’t I say that before? Well, I mean it even more now. FUCK.

Every touch, every kiss, every possessive growl makes me burn hotter, my body arching into his as if begging for more.

In the back of my mind, I notice how quickly he’s learned to kiss—how perfectly he’s attuned to my reactions, how he seems to know exactly what I need, what I want.

But then something changes.

He freezes.

At first, I think he’s just catching his breath, but it’s just like before. When he had me quivering after giving me the best orgasm of my life. His entire body stiffens, his hands twitching against my skin.

“Rok?” I whisper, my eyes flying open.

He pulls back slightly, his head tilting as he inhales deeply. His nostrils flare, his glow pulsing brighter for a moment before dimming again.

And then he releases me.

Just like that.

I barely have time to catch myself before he staggers back, his hands flying to his head as he lets out a guttural snarl.

“Rok!” I cry, stumbling forward, but he holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks.

His glow goes haywire, flickering and pulsing erratically beneath his skin. It doesn’t look natural—it’s chaotic, unstable, like a storm raging beneath the surface.

He falls to his knees, his body shaking violently. His claws rake against the stone floor, leaving deep gouges as his breaths come in harsh, ragged gasps.

“Rok, what’s happening?” I whisper, dropping to the floor beside him.

I reach out, my hand trembling, but the moment my fingers brush his arm, he flinches like he’s been hit by a truck, a sharp hiss escaping him.

My touch makes it worse.

I pull back, my heart pounding as I watch him, helpless and terrified.

And then…his glow changes.

It happens so suddenly, so drastically, that I fall back in shock.

The soft amber light beneath his skin darkens, shifting to something deeper, something… different . It looks like smoke, like shadows writhing under the surface, swirling and coiling in unnatural patterns until they consume him from within.

His skin has gone pitch black.

“Oh, shit,” I whisper, chest heaving.

His body convulses, his head tilting back as a guttural, animalistic growl tears from his throat. The darkness beneath his skin grows thicker, consuming him, and for a moment, I think he might explode.

And then?—

Stars.

The darkness is suddenly filled with stars.

Tiny, glimmering points of light swirl beneath his skin, like entire galaxies trapped within the confines of his body.

It’s beautiful and terrifying all at once, like staring into the heart of the universe.

He collapses forward, catching himself on his hands, his head hanging low as his body trembles.

I scramble toward him, my fear overridden by the need to help him, to do something .

“Rok, talk to me.” I plead, intent on pressing my forehead to his so he can tell me what’s going on. Is he dying? He can’t be dying. My heart lurches at the thought, tears filling my eyes. I push them back.

He can’t be dying. Because I refuse it.

When my fingers brush his shoulder, he flinches again, but this time he doesn’t pull away.

Instead, he lifts his head, his glowing, star-filled eyes locking onto mine.

The look in his eyes…

I cannot explain it.

I see myself . All my dreams. All I’ve ever wanted.

And in that moment, I know.

Whatever’s happening to him, it’s because of me.

And there’s no going back.