Page 7 of Rok’s Captive (Barbarians of the Dust #1)

WHEN “FIRST CONTACT” MEANS EXACTLY WHAT THE FUCK IT SAYS

JUSTINE

I t’s a man. A person . The first living thing I’ve encountered apart from that ungodly screech I heard in the distance just now.

My heart hammers against my ribs as I stare at the figure before me. No, not a man—something else entirely. Humanoid, yes, but definitely not human.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, backing away slowly. I’ve discovered an alien.

If this doesn’t confirm we’re on another planet far away from Earth, I don’t know what will.

Unless the Xyma hired really committed cosplayers who got just as lost as we did, I’m going to go with door number one: definitely alien.

He’s tall—at least seven or more feet of lean, sculpted muscle. His skin is the first thing that draws my attention—a golden amber that seems to shift and ripple like the very dunes around us. His face is angular, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw that could cut glass.

And he’s completely, and utterly NAKED .

I avert my gaze then realize there’s nothing particularly…obvious…to avoid looking at. Either his people have different anatomy or there’s some kind of concealment I’m not seeing. I’m too disoriented to figure it out and frankly, being poked in the eye by D is the least of my concerns right now.

Oh shit, what did the Xyma do when they arrived on Earth again? I was so frickin’ terrified I can hardly remember. Funny how the entire Earth population has just moved on and accepted them from those early days. But the being in front of me does not look accepting right now.

“Um, hello?” I try, raising my hands in what I hope is a universal gesture of non-aggression. “I come in peace? That’s what you’re supposed to say, right?”

The being winces at the sound of my voice, his strange eyes narrowing. They’re amazing—vertical pupils like a cat’s, with irises the color of true topaz flecked with bronze. His reaction makes me lower my voice to just above a whisper.

“Sorry. Too loud?”

He remains in a crouched position, perfectly balanced on the balls of his feet, looking ready to either flee or attack. His nostrils flare slightly as he…sniffs me? Great. I probably smell really rich right now.

“Look,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady and quiet, “I’m lost. My people are back that way.” I point in the direction of the transport. He doesn’t even turn his head to look. Doesn’t even glance at my arm. Those eyes remain locked on mine and it’s hard to keep focus. I shake my head, clearing my thoughts. “We’re stranded. Do you understand?”

Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition in that predatory gaze. But he’s watching me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle—not with fear exactly, but with the distinct feeling of being sized up. Like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve, or worse—a threat he’s deciding how to neutralize.

His lips pull back slightly, revealing teeth that are all pointed at the tips. Does this dude tear raw meat from the bone?

“Shit.” I’m raw meat, currently on trembling bones.

The alien snarls again and the message is clear enough: back off.

I swallow hard. “Okay, so you’re not the friendly welcoming committee. Got it.” That’s fine. This is fine.

Be brave, I tell myself. He’s here, so there must be others. And after walking so long and seeing only sand, he’s more than I hoped for. Much more. And I know this.

So I lift my chin a little higher and force down the lump rising in my throat.

Be brave.

“I need your help.”

Despite the alien’s obvious wariness, I can’t help noticing details about him. The way his hair, a rich tan color like the sand around us, looks like it has metallic highlights and moves like liquid across his shoulders when he shifts. The strange markings on his chest that seem to have some purpose beyond decoration. The way he holds himself, coiled and ready, like something barely tethered and untamed.

I try a different approach, mimicking drinking water, then pointing to myself and making a walking motion with my fingers. “Water? Shelter? Do you know where I can find either of those things?”

His head tilts slightly. Is that curiosity or confusion?

But I’m encouraged by any reaction that isn’t overtly hostile. I continue with my makeshift sign language. I point to the horizon, then make a crude house shape with my hands, followed by lifting my shoulders and arms in the “who/what/where/when” gesture.

“People? Settlement? Dare I say a city?” Yeah, that might be pushing it. “Anything that isn’t endless desert?”

His eyes track my movements with laser focus. I’m desperate. As long as his people aren’t cannibals, rapists, or both, I’ll take anything. When I finish, he tenses even further, if that’s possible. His gaze darts from my hands to my face, then to the dying light of the sun on the horizon.

Nothing in his posture suggests he’s about to help. If anything, he seems more suspicious, like my simple question has confirmed something negative about me.

“Okay. Maybe appearing in your backyard and asking you to take me to your house doesn’t really inspire trust.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I barely get my fingers through. It’s filled with sand. Great. “Look, I’m not a threat. I’m just lost, thirsty, and in need of your assistance.”

The alien’s nostrils flare again, and he makes a strange clicking sound in his throat. Is that communication? Annoyance? Gas? I have no way of knowing.

I decide to try one more time, using the most basic approach I can think of. I point to myself.

“Justine,” I say clearly, tapping my chest. “Jus-tine.”

Something shifts in his expression—a subtle change that suggests I might have finally broken through. He straightens slightly, rising to his full height in one fluid motion that reminds me of a wave rolling up a beach. It’s unnervingly graceful.

My heart leaps. “Yes? You understand? I’m Justine.”

Another wince at my voice, though less pronounced this time.

I reach up and touch my ear. The alien tracks the movement. The moment I feel the earbud the Xyma gave me still there, my heart leaps again. If he speaks, maybe I’ll be able to understand him. I have no clue if this thing needs the Internet or some kind of connection to work. Don’t even know if it translates all languages. I just have to hope.

But the alien before me has not said one word.

His expression doesn’t change, but something in his posture shifts. He’s still wary, but there’s calculation there now.

It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I try again with the settlement question, pointing to him first, then making the house gesture, then a gathering motion with my hands to indicate multiple people.

“Your people? Your home? Can you take me there?”

The effect is immediate and alarming. The alien’s entire demeanor changes, his eyes literally darkening and those sharp teeth becoming fully visible as his lips pull back in a full-mouthed snarl. The raised markings on his chest seem to darken, too, and he takes a step toward me that is definitely not friendly.

“Whoa!” I raise my hands. “Sorry! Bad question! I take it back!”

Somehow, I’ve hit a nerve. Asking about his people was clearly the wrong move. Maybe they’re territorial. Maybe they eat humans for breakfast. Maybe they just hate tourists.

Whatever the reason, I’ve screwed up, and now this golden-skinned warrior looks ready to do that meat-off-the-bones thing I feared earlier. If I could only get him to understand?—

A blood-curdling screech tears through the air, much closer than before. The alien’s head snaps toward the sound, his anger instantly replaced by something closer to alarm.

Another screech answers the first, this one from a different direction, and the alien makes a decision so quickly I barely register the change. One moment he’s glaring at me, the next he’s lunging forward.

“No, wait—” is all I manage before I’m upended, my world tilting as he throws me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down!” The wind is knocked from my lungs as my stomach connects with his shoulder. “What the hell?”

He ignores me completely, breaking into a run that doesn’t feel natural. It’s too smooth, too fast. Each stride covers ground that would take me three steps, yet he moves with a silent grace that seems impossible for his size.

The blood rushes to my head as I hang upside down, my protests muffled against his back. The skin beneath my hands is warm to the touch and unexpectedly smooth, almost silky despite its appearance of toughness.

For a moment, I’m distracted by the little points of light that appear where my fingertips press into him.

Another screech tears through the air, closer now, and the alien picks up speed. My complaints die in my throat as I realize that whatever’s making that sound is hunting us, and the alien—despite his obvious dislike of me—is trying to get us both away from it.

“What is that thing?” I gasp, though I know he can’t understand me. “And where are you taking me?”

No response, of course, just the steady rhythm of his running and the increasingly frantic pounding of my heart. The desert blurs past in my inverted vision, darkness falling rapidly as BS (Batshit Sun) disappears completely.

Wait. He’s running parallel to the rock formation I was heading for, not toward it! My carefully plotted course, my water calculations, my deliberately placed markers—all becoming useless with every step this alien takes.

“No, no, no—wrong way!” I smack his back again, which accomplishes exactly nothing except probably annoying him further. “The big pointy rocks! That way!”

Nothing. It doesn’t make a difference. He can hear me, I’m sure, but he can’t understand me and even if he could, I’m not sure he’d listen. Fuck. Not only am I being kidnapped while something with murder-screech capabilities hunts us, but now I’m going to be completely lost.

The screeching grows louder, then multiplies—more than one of whatever nightmares is out there. The alien’s pace somehow increases even further and I catch glimpses of rocky outcroppings passing by. We’re no longer in the open desert but moving through more rugged terrain.

“Jacqui will never find me,” I choke out, fighting back tears of panic. “None of them will. I’m supposed to be heading back with information, not getting abducted deeper into…wherever the hell this is.”

My words are lost in the wind of our movement. The alien shows no sign of slowing or changing course. Every passing moment takes me farther from the crashed bus, farther from the women depending on me.

The others won’t look for me. They’ll think I succumbed to the unforgiving desert. But Jacqui…Jacqui will. She’ll come after me. She’ll follow my markers straight to where I was supposed to be, but I won’t be there. She’s going to think I’m dead, or worse—she’ll keep searching until she runs out of water herself.

“Please,” I try again, voice cracking. “My sister—I have to—” But the alien’s grip only tightens as he changes direction, veering sharply toward what looks like a sheer cliff face in the deepening darkness.

It’s pointless. What’s worse, the screeching behind us has multiplied. Three, maybe four distinct screeching calls now, getting closer despite my captor’s impressive speed. Whatever’s chasing us, it hunts in packs.

The alien suddenly drops into a crouch. The movement is so abrupt I nearly lose the single biscuit I’d scarfed down for lunch. The emergency blanket gets loose and flies away.

“Wait!” Oh shit.

I reach for it, but he’s moving again. Different this time. More stealth than speed, weaving between rock formations I can barely make out in the darkness.

The screeching stops.

Somehow, that’s worse.

The alien freezes and I hold my breath, acutely aware that my racing heart might as well be a drumbeat announcing our location. His muscles coil beneath me, and I know with certainty that whatever’s hunting us, it’s close enough to taste our scent on the wind.

The alien moves. Not running now—climbing. The world tilts again as he scales what feels like a vertical surface with me still slung over his shoulder. How he’s managing this with one arm, I have no idea. The rock face scrapes against my side as he maneuvers us into…a cave?

The absolute darkness is disorienting. I hear him moving, feel the shift as he finally sets me down. My legs wobble beneath me, and I reach out blindly, finding cold stone at my back.

“Where—”

His hand clamps over my mouth, callused palm pressing hard enough to hurt. There’s nothing gentle about it. The message is clear: silence or death. Given the circumstances, I’m voting for silence.

The alien moves away, and for a terrifying moment, I think he’s going to leave me here. But then I sense rather than see him positioning himself at what must be the cave entrance. His breathing is silent, but I can feel the coiled tension radiating from him. The cave isn’t large—my outstretched hands can touch both walls, and the ceiling feels low enough that he must be crouching.

Outside, something moves. The sound is subtle. A whisper of movement across stone. Somewhere out there a pebble dislodges and clatters, echoing into the stillness. The alien’s reaction is immediate. I sense him dropping lower. Pressing against the wall, I try to make myself as small as possible.

Then I hear it. A single click sound. Not from the alien this time, but from whatever’s outside. It’s answered by another set of clicks, then another, until the cave entrance is surrounded by what sounds like dozens of chittering, clicking monsters, the sound they make echoing off the stone like laughter.

I stare straight ahead, eyes wide in the darkness, barely breathing. They’re communicating. Hunting. And we’re trapped.

When the sounds rise to a crescendo, I squeeze my eyes shut tight, my lower lip bitten between my teeth so hard I taste blood.

No. Not going to die here.

I’m not going to die like this!

Minutes pass like hours. I don’t dare move, barely dare to breathe. And the alien remains motionless. So silent that at one point I wonder if he left. Disappeared when there was a chance to do so, without me knowing.

Finally, my eyes adjust to spot his dark shape against the marginally lighter cave entrance. He’s standing there, hands tipped with dangerously long claws. Looking like he’s ready to tear apart anything that breaches the entrance.

When the sounds outside eventually fade, I hear him exhale. Those claws disappear, going back into his fingers like they were never there. And then something extraordinary happens. His skin begins to emit a soft, amber glow. It starts with raised markings across his chest, spreading outward like veins of light beneath his golden skin. The illumination is subtle, but it’s enough to reveal the interior of the rocky chamber.

I forget to breathe for a moment. He’s…magnificent. Savage and alien and dangerous, but magnificent. The light plays across the harsh planes of his face, those vertical pupils now reflecting his glow. His body is all lean muscle and scars, telling stories of survival I can only imagine.

The sight of those scars snaps me back to reality. Whatever he is, he’s clearly dangerous—and I’m alone with him. The thought sends my mind racing to darker places. If creatures dangerous enough to mark him like that are out there, what chance do the others have?

Jacqui. My chest tightens. Instead of returning to her and the others with information, I’m trapped in a cave with a glowing alien who either saved me or kidnapped me—or both.

The worst part? I have no idea how to find my way back. Even if I could somehow slip past my alien captor, the twisting path we took to get here is already lost on me.

“I need to get back,” I whisper, knowing he won’t understand but needing to say it anyway. “My sister, the others—they need me. They’re waiting.”

The alien makes that clicking sound again, softer this time. Is it meant to be reassuring? Threatening? A warning to shut up? I have no way of knowing.

One thing is clear. From his stance at the entrance, he’s not letting me pass.

I slide down the wall until I’m sitting, suddenly aware of how utterly exhausted I am. My muscles scream in protest, my throat burns with thirst, and every inch of exposed skin feels scorched.

At least I’m alive. For now. And not being eaten by whatever was making those sounds outside. Also a plus.

For a moment, I simply allow myself to breathe. Until the adrenaline dies down and my hands stop shaking enough to reach for my pack. One and a half water packets left. Each drop is precious, but after that run, and with my heart still racing, I need it.

I fumble with the packet in the darkness. When I finally get my fingers on the lid, a sharp movement makes me freeze.

His body goes rigid. The glow catches his eyes, fixed not on me—but on the packet in my hands. Before I can react, he moves, so fast I barely register it, snatching the packet from my grip with a swift motion that makes me gasp.

“Hey!” I protest, but he’s already turning the plastic packet over in his hands, examining it with intense concentration, running his fingers along the sealed edges.

His nostrils flare as he brings it closer to his face, sniffing at it suspiciously. Those golden eyes narrow, darting from the packet to me, a strange accusation in his eyes that leaves me dumbfounded. Then he goes completely still, staring at me with such intensity it’s almost physical. His focus is absolute, pupils contracting to thin slits as he continues to hold my gaze for what feels like an eternity.

I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? Like I’m supposed to read your mind or something.”

He continues that unnerving stare, and I swear I can feel pressure building behind my eyes. It’s probably just exhaustion and dehydration, but…weird. He tilts his head slightly, the stare never breaking. If anything, it intensifies, his brow furrowing with what looks like concentration or frustration.

“Sorry, buddy. Whatever you’re trying to communicate isn’t working.” I tap my temple. “No mind reading capabilities installed.”

Something flickers across his face—surprise maybe, or confusion. He blinks rapidly, then returns his attention to the water packet, his fingers prod at it, trying to find an opening, but clearly unfamiliar with the technology.

I hold out my hand, palm up. “Give it back,” I say, then realize he can’t understand. “I’ll show you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he extends the packet toward me, but doesn’t release it. We sit like that for a moment, both holding the packet, a strange standoff over the most basic of survival needs. My fingers graze his and his skin ripples in response, like something alive shifting beneath the surface. A slow wave rolls up his arm—like the desert itself just woke up inside him.

What the…

When my gaze shifts back to his, that lump rises in my throat again. He’s not looking at me with that intensity he had a moment ago. This is different. As if he’s struggling to process something, his pupils dilating and contracting rapidly.

I adjust my fingers so we’re no longer touching. It reminds me of my cousin’s shellfish allergy—that immediate physical reaction when his body encountered something it wasn’t designed to handle. But this is different, more like the alien’s skin is responding to me specifically. Like I’m the allergen.

“It’s just water,” I whisper, maybe to distract myself or him. It’s a weak attempt. He still doesn’t let go.

Slowly, carefully, I twist the cap with my free hand, my eyes never leaving his. The alien jerks in surprise when the cap pops off, but he still doesn’t let go.

“See?” I say softly. “It’s just water.”

For a heartbeat, I forget where I am, forget the danger, forget everything except those strange golden eyes locked on mine. They’re…mesmerizing.

I’d be a dumbass to ignore the fact that this creature before me is by far the most wild and enchanting thing I have, and probably will ever, encounter. He’s…beautiful. In the way a lightning storm is beautiful after calm. The air between us feels suddenly charged and I’m faced with the fact that he is as wild and strange as the desert around us, and I am at his mercy.

He blinks first, breaking whatever spell had fallen over us. His nostrils flare as he brings the packet closer to his face, sniffing at it suspiciously. The concentration on his face would be comical under different circumstances—like watching someone inspect fine wine instead of emergency rations.

Finally, he tips the packet ever so slightly, allowing the smallest drop to touch his tongue.

The moment the water touches his tongue, he jerks back like I just fed him acid. His lips peel back, exposing those sharp teeth, a growl vibrating through his chest. He wipes his mouth—again and again—his whole body shuddering in what can only be pure, unfiltered disgust.

He thrusts the packet back at me with such force I nearly drop it. “What—you don’t like it?” I can’t help the small laugh that escapes. “It’s just water. Maybe a little stale, but?—”

The alien makes another disgusted sound, and I stifle another laugh.

“Fine, more for me.” I take a cautious sip, half-expecting it to taste terrible, but it’s just water—slightly warm and with that faint metallic flavor all the emergency rations have, but nothing offensive.

The alien watches me drink with a mixture of disgust and horror, as if I’m downing poison by choice. When I finish, his gaze follows my hand as I carefully reseal the half-empty packet and return it to my bag.

“Different tastebuds, I guess.” I shrug, settling back against the wall. “Or maybe your water’s just better than ours.”

The alien continues to stare at me for a long moment, then makes that clicking sound again—softer this time, almost thoughtful—before returning to his position at the cave entrance. He crouches there, perfectly balanced, a golden sentinel between me and whatever’s outside.

I can’t help but notice he keeps flexing the hand that touched mine, opening and closing his fingers as if testing them. And then he touches his jaw, trailing his fingers over the spot where I’d punched him earlier. The luminescence beneath his skin pulses irregularly along that arm, almost like aftershocks from when I touched him there.

I don’t…I don’t know what to think of that.

Did I hurt him? No—he’s too solid for that. But then why does he keep touching where I did?

“Sorry…” I whisper, though I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for.

Pulling my knees to my chest, I’m suddenly aware of how utterly exhausted I am. My muscles scream in protest. My throat feels better, at least. The initial panic has subsided into a dull, throbbing awareness of my situation.

I’m lost. Completely cut off from Jacqui and the others.

“What am I going to do?” I whisper, not expecting an answer.

The alien tilts his head slightly at the sound of my voice, but those luminous eyes remain focused on the darkness outside.

“Jacqui’s going to kill me.” A humorless laugh escapes before I swallow it down. “If those screaming things don’t beat her to it.”

The soft glow in the cave dims and I glance back at the alien’s silhouette. His body language screams ‘feral’—from the way he balances on the balls of his feet to the tilt of his head as he listens to sounds I can’t detect. Those sharp teeth I glimpsed earlier weren’t for show. This isn’t some benevolent E.T. who’s going to help me phone home. At least he seems to be standing guard and not coming after me.

Still, I’m double fucked.

In the ass.

Zero lube.