Page 33 of Rok’s Captive (Barbarians of the Dust #1)

JUST WHEN I THOUGHT IT COULDN’T GET WEIRDER

JUSTINE

T he sun sinks toward the horizon as we approach the clan grounds, painting the rocky landscape in shades of amber and gold. Still cradled in Rok’s arms, I feel his muscles tense beneath me, his heartbeat quickening against my ear. Ahead, dark silhouettes of massive stone formations rise against the darkening sky—a natural fortress of towering cliffs and hidden crevices.

“ We approach clan ground .” Rok’s thoughts brush against my mind, tentative and tense. “ Are you afraid? ”

The question surprises me. I’ve been so focused on the physical sensation of being carried by him—the powerful rhythm of his stride, the security of his arms around me—that I’d tried not to think about what awaits us.

“ Should I be? ” I counter, trying to mask my growing unease.

Rok slows his pace, allowing Tharn to pull ahead of us. When he responds, his mental voice is carefully measured. “ They have never seen a being like you. They will not understand .”

“Like Tharn didn’t understand,” I say, watching the other male’s muscular back as he leads us toward the cliffs.

“ Yes ,” Rok agrees, “ but many minds together can be…overwhelming. ”

I swallow hard, suddenly aware of what that might mean. If one skeptical Drakav nearly attacked me on sight, what will a whole clan of them do?

“ They will not harm you, ” Rok adds, obviously sensing my fear. “ I will not allow it. ”

There’s a fierce certainty in his thoughts that should be comforting, but instead has me worried for him. What would happen if he had to defend me against his entire clan? What would that cost him?

Before I can voice these concerns, Tharn pauses ahead of us, raising his hand in a silent signal. The gesture is so human it momentarily throws me. These beings may look alien, but there’s something fundamentally familiar in the way they move, communicate (well…kind of), and exist.

“ Kol awaits ,” Tharn projects, his mental voice carrying to both of us. “ He has sensed our approach .”

“ How? ” I wonder, not realizing I’ve broadcasted the thought until both males look at me.

“ The clan bond ,” Rok explains. “ All males are connected. It is how we survive .”

This new piece of information sends my brain into overdrive. They all talk to each other… sense each other…constantly? So together are they like a singular unit, deadly soldiers that don’t even need to relay spoken commands because communication is like…instant?

“ Your female thinks very loudly, ” Tharn observes, interrupting my mental spiral.

Rok’s chest rumbles with what might be a chuckle. “ She does .”

“ I’m right here ,” I protest, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. In truth, their casual exchange has helped ease some of my tension.

As we approach the base of the tallest cliff, I notice openings scattered across its face—cave entrances, some clearly natural and others that appear to have been deliberately expanded. The setting sun casts them in deep shadow, making it impossible to see within, but I have the distinct feeling of being watched from those dark voids.

Tharn stops at the cliff base, his posture straightening as his eyes close in concentration. Though no sound passes his lips, I sense a powerful mental projection emanating from him—a silent call that seems to ripple through the air around us. The mental energy hangs for a long moment, then fades.

Silence follows, so complete, I can hear my own heartbeat.

Then, movement. Shadows detaching from shadows. Forms emerging from the caves above, scaling down the cliff face with inhuman grace. Others appearing from behind rock formations, rising from what I had thought was bare ground.

Within moments, we’re surrounded by at least twenty Drakav males, their golden eyes gleaming in the fading light, their muscular bodies arranged in a loose circle around us. None approach, but their focus is like a heavy weight bearing down on me from all sides.

“They’re beautiful,” I think involuntarily, struck by the sight of them gathered together. Each one unique in the subtle variations of height and build, the color of their hair, their eyes—yet they’re unmistakably of the same species.

There’s an answering rumble in Rok’s chest, his arms tightening around me in what is nothing but jealousy and possessiveness. I don’t mind. I curl tighter against him, and not a moment too soon.

The circle parts, and a massive figure steps forward. Even among these impressive beings, he stands out—taller than Rok by at least a head, his shoulders broader, his chest deeper. Intricate patterns swirl across his torso and face, more elaborate than those visible on the others.

“Kol,” Rok acknowledges, inclining his head slightly but not bowing or kneeling as I might have expected. His arms remain firmly around me, holding me close to his chest rather than setting me down.

The leader’s eyes fix on me with unnerving intensity. I feel the brush of his mind against mine—harder, rougher than Rok’s gentle touch, like sandpaper compared to silk.

“What is this you bring to our grounds, Rok?” Kol’s mental voice resonates with authority. “Why do you carry a strange male in your arms as if he were a hatchling?”

A ripple of curious thought-whispers moves through the gathered clan. I feel Rok’s frustration spike, but his outward demeanor remains calm.

“Not male,” he corrects firmly. “ Female . Not from here. Not from the dust.”

The mental whispers intensify, a buzz of disbelief and wonder that makes my temples throb. Kol steps closer, nostrils flaring as he scents the air around us.

“Set this creature down,” he commands. “Let me see what you claim is female.”

I feel Rok’s reluctance as he slowly lowers me to my feet, but he keeps one arm around my shoulders, his body slightly angled to remain between me and Kol. The protective gesture isn’t lost on the leader, whose face shifts in what might be surprise.

Standing on my own, I’m acutely aware of how small I am compared to these beings. The top of my head barely reaches Rok’s chest, and Kol towers over me like a living mountain. Fighting the urge to shrink back against Rok, I force myself to stand straight, meeting Kol’s gaze directly.

“I am Justine,” I project as clearly as I can, hoping my thoughts reach him. “I came from beyond the stars with others of my kind. Rok saved my life.”

Something in Kol’s eyes changes. Perhaps it’s surprise. Perhaps he thinks I’m lying. He circles me slowly, reminding me how Rok appeared much like a predator assessing potential prey in those first moments when we met. I resist the urge to turn with him, keeping my gaze fixed forward, though every instinct screams to keep the threat in view.

“The daughters of Ain were mighty beings,” Kol thinks, his mental voice dripping with skepticism. “Goddesses. This creature is small. Weak. It has no claws, no fangs.” He reaches toward my face with one massive hand. “Its skin is thin, soft?—”

Rok moves faster than I can track, his body suddenly between me and Kol’s outstretched hand. He doesn’t growl or bare his teeth, but his stance is unmistakably defensive.

“She is under my protection,” Rok states, the thought carrying such force that I see several of the surrounding males flinch.

Instead of anger at this challenge, something like curiosity flickers across Kol’s hard features. He withdraws his hand slowly, his gaze moving between Rok and me with fresh interest.

“You have changed, dust-son,” he observes. “Your bearing. Your stance.” His gaze drops pointedly to Rok’s loincloth. “Your covering.”

Several of the clan members shift closer, heads tilting in that now-familiar gesture of curiosity. I realize they’re all noticing what Tharn had pointed out—the physical evidence of Rok’s new anatomy, hidden beneath the crude garment I’d made for him.

“I have changed,” Rok acknowledges simply. “She has changed me.”

The admission sends another wave of mental murmurs through the gathered clan. I catch fragments of their thoughts—disbelief, fascination, jealousy, fear.

“—cannot be female?—”

“—look how he guards it?—”

“—never seen a male cover his pouch?—”

“—what if it is true? What if?—”

“—this strange male has many soft parts.”

A lean Drakav pushes forward suddenly. “Let me see this creature,” he demands, reaching for my arm.

Rok’s response is immediate and terrifying. His body transforms before my eyes—muscles bunching, spine arching, a sound emerging from his throat that seems to vibrate the very air around us. It’s not just a growl; it’s a warning that transcends language, primal and absolute.

The male freezes, then slowly backs away, head lowered in submission.

“Enough,” Kol commands, his mental voice cutting through the tension like a blade. His gaze shifts to Tharn. “What do you think of this creature?—”

“ Jus-teen ,” Rok corrects, his stance still rigid with protective fury.

Tharn straightens under Kol’s attention, his amber eyes flicking briefly to me before returning to his leader’s face. There’s a moment of hesitation, then his thoughts project clearly through the gathering.

“I trust Rok’s judgment,” he states firmly. “If he says this one is female, then I believe him. Rok has never led the clan astray.”

The declaration seems to carry weight, rippling through the gathered males. I feel Rok’s surprise and appreciation beside me, though his protective stance doesn’t waver.

Kol considers Tharn’s words, his face unreadable. He takes so long to relay his judgment that I start to worry that he will turn me away. Finally, his voice booms in my mind. “Jus-teen,” he pauses, his chin tilting slightly as he looks at me down the bridge of his nose, “will not be harmed or touched without consent.”

For a moment, he simply stares at me, and I wish I could read his mind. Ha. I probably could, I just don’t know how.

“You claim others of your kind are stranded. Where?” he projects.

Relief floods me at this change of subject. “Um, they’re…” And then I realize I have no idea where they are. I don’t know the direction or anything. “Where our ship crashed. We were…separated. We…meant no harm coming here.”

“Ship…” Kol repeats thoughtfully. I feel him turn the thought over. Clearly, he has no idea what a ship is, and I’m not sure I should provide mental images to back up the word. “And how many of these…females…are stranded?”

“My sister,” I project immediately. “And several other women—uh, females. Humans, we call ourselves.”

“Humans,” he echoes. The word comes off with a strange lilt in his thoughts. “We will search for these humans at first light.”

My heart sinks. “First light? We need to go now. It’s been days—more than I can count. What if they’ve encountered predators like the ones that attacked me and Rok? What if they’re hurt or—” I cut myself off, unwilling to voice my deepest fear.

If it’s even possible, Kol’s expression hardens. “We do not travel when Ain does not bless us with her light. The creatures that hide from Ain’s gaze are the deadliest. They hunt in the dark.”

“But my sister—” I begin, desperation creeping into my voice.

“If your people stayed,” Rok interjects, his thoughts so gentle they almost make my bravado crack, “near where I found you, then no creatures would go there.”

But something in his tone makes a chill run down my spine. “Why not?”

I sense a ripple of unease pass through the gathered clan. Glances are exchanged. Bodies shift restlessly.

“They are in the Silent Valley.” Rok’s eyes search mine and I know there’s more.

“Silent Valley?” I repeat. “Why do you call it that?”

“Silent Valley,” Kol’s voice booms in my head. “Where danger sleeps.”

A heavy silence falls. Even the mental whispers cease, leaving an eerie quiet that seems to press against my eardrums.

It’s Tharn who finally speaks, well, mind-talks. Mind-speaks? His thoughts carry a reverence far from how he sounded before. “The creature that lives there rests.”

The words hang in the air, pregnant with meaning I can’t fully grasp. Before I can ask for clarification, Kol turns to address the clan.

“Prepare for a journey at first light,” he commands. “We seek the human females.” His gaze returns to me. “Tonight, you will rest and tell us of your world beyond the stars…daughter of Ain.”

Oh…shit.

The gathered males disperse at his command, though many cast lingering glances my way as they return to their cave dwellings. Only a few remain—Kol, Tharn, and three others whose names I don’t yet know.

“Come,” Kol directs, turning toward the largest cave opening. “You will share meal-offering with the clan.”

As Rok guides me forward, his arm still protectively around my shoulders, I can’t shake the ominous feeling left by their words.

Silent Valley. Where the creature sleeps.

And my sister—my only family—is right in the middle of it.