Page 16 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)

THE GLOW ISN’T THE ONLY THING THAT’S RISING

THARN

T he firebloom works its magic quickly.

My wound still throbs, the shadowmaw's poison not entirely purged, but the burning has subsided. The dark tendrils creeping toward my dra-kir have retreated, leaving only a dull ache where fangs tore flesh. I am healing. Not fully restored, but strong enough to hunt. Strong enough to protect.

Strong enough to continue our journey to Jah-kee’s sister-female and Rok.

… If that is what I truly want.

I sit at the cave entrance, watching Ain's light fade from the sky.

The stars emerge, burning cold and bright against the endless dark.

In the clan tales, thepatterns are the great hunters of old, their spirits forever tracking their legendary prey across the sky.

We trace their hunts, telling the stories of their strength so young Drakav learn the ways of the clan.

This dark, their light feels heavy. A judgment on my own hunt. On my... hesitation.

Behind me, Jah-kee rests. Her breathing is even now, her small body curled on the soft sand I gathered for her. Rest came quickly for her after taking the firebloom paste.

I shift, adjusting my position to see both her and the cave entrance better. My duty is clear: guard her through the dark, then continue our journey at first light. Where Rok and her sister-female wait lies three sols to the northwest. It will be a curving path from here.

And all because I diverted.

I told myself the diversion was necessary. That we needed the firebloom to heal. That the extra sol or two it would add to our journey was a small price for our survival.

These are true thoughts. Good, hunter’s thoughts.

But under them, something else moves. A truth I do not wish to see.

I do not want to reach Rok.

I do not want to give Jah-kee back.

My gaze drops to my claws, to the faint golden glow that pulses beneath my skin even now. It is always there since finding her, but stronger when she is near. Stronger still when we touch. I flex my claw, watching the light follow the movement, tracing the path of veins and muscle beneath my skin.

What is this connection? This light that binds us?

A soft sound from the cave's depths pulls my attention back to Jah-kee. She shifts in her rest, brow furrowing slightly before smoothing again. Even unconscious, she makes noises. Strange, soft vocalizations that should irritate my sensitive ears but now somehow... don't.

When did her noise stop being noise? When did it become… necessary? Like the warmth of Ain after a cold dark. Like the taste of blood after a long hunt.

Like something necessary.

My chest tightens at the thought, an echo of the pain I felt earlier when she walked away from me across the sands.

That had been... unexpected. Alarming. A physical agony that went beyond the shadowmaw's poison or the fatigue of our journey.

It felt as if she were pulling my very dra-kir from my chest with each step she took away from me.

The pain had eased only when she returned, firebloom clutched in her hide covering, determination in those water-blue eyes. The relief had been so intense it momentarily overwhelmed my alarm at the sandfin pursuing her.

Even now, with barely the length of the cave between us, I feel a faint tugging sensation. A pull toward her that makes my skin hum with awareness.

We are tethered somehow, bound by whatever strange force creates this light between us.

And I do not know how to break free.

Or if I want to.

The sandfin I killed earlier lies just outside the cave entrance, its corpse already stiffening in the cool night air. I should prepare it now, while Jah-kee rests. The meat will restore our strength, and we can save portions for the journey ahead.

I rise silently, moving outside to where the creature lies.

Its scales gleam in the light of my glow as I crouch beside it, unsheathing my claws to begin the careful work of separating meat from bone.

The flesh parts easily under my touch, pale and rich with nutrients.

But even over the scent of fresh blood, I can smell her. She is close. Awake.

A soft shuffling confirms it. The whisper of feet on stone.

I stiffen, glow brightening as I turn to find Jah-kee standing in the cave entrance. Her head fur is mussed from sleep, her eyes heavy-lidded but alert. She sways slightly, still not fully recovered, but there is determination in the set of her jaw.

" Jah-kee ," I project, forgetting for a moment that she can no longer hear me. The frustration of our severed connection burns anew. " You should be restin g."

She vocalizes something, the sounds soft and slurred with sleep. Her small hand gestures vaguely toward the darkness beyond the cave, then down at herself. I tilt my head, trying to decipher her meaning.

She sighs, then repeats the gesture more emphatically, adding a squeezing motion with her thighs.

What is she trying to tell me?

Oh. Dust. Is this what I think it is? A request for me to present myself? My dra-kir thrums hopefully?—

But no.

Jah-kee turns toward the darkness beyond the cave, and my claws extend on reflex. The dark belongs to shadowmaws and dust stalkers. Even a healthy hunter would hesitate to venture out alone.

When I move to accompany her, her face heats with color. The pale skin of her cheeks flushes deep pink, almost red. Is she ill again? Has the fire returned?

I reach for her brow, but she steps back, making that strange squeaking sound she emits when startled. The color deepens. Not the fire then. Something else.

She gestures more urgently now, pointing to herself, then the darkness, then making a shooing motion at me. Her meaning is clear: she wants privacy.

But privacy is a luxury afforded only within the safety of clan caves. Out here, in the open, during the dark? It is a death sentence.

She makes a frustrated sound, then more vocalizations that rise in pitch before dropping to a resigned grumble. Whatever argument she was making, she seems to have abandoned it.

She pins me with a final, sharp look, then turns and steps past me into the dark. I drop the sandfin immediately, rising to follow her. Her shoulders hunch when she realizes I'm behind her, but she doesn't try to send me away again.

She moves a short distance from the cave. I follow, stopping a few paces behind her.The soft breeze brings the scent of the open dark to me. From here, I can see everything. Hear everything. She is a warm, small point in the center of the world.Nothing will reach her.

"Fine," she vocalizes, the sound sharp but quiet. "It's not like you can see in this pitch black anyway."

The sharp sounds she makes mean nothing to me. It is the movement that follows that steals my breath.She lifts the strange hide covering her lower half. It rises, revealing pale thighs that gleam like polished bone in my glow.

My glow, which had been a soft, ambient shimmer, suddenly flares with the intensity of Ain herself.

The entire area is instantly bathed in brilliant golden light, turning the sand white and the shadows to sharp, black spears.

It is, for all intents and purposes, a beam of solid light. Pointed directly at her.

She freezes, a startled, squeaking sound escaping her. Her entire body goes rigid, caught in the beam of my traitorous light.

For a long moment, she doesn't move. A strange look crosses her face. The lines around her eyes tighten, her small teeth dig into her lower lip, and her body gives a small, involuntary shudder. She presses her thighs together again.

"Oh no, no, no, not now," she mutters, the vocalization a low, strained sound.A soft groan rumbles from her chest. It is the sound of a body fighting a battle it is about to lose.

What is she doing ? I should scan the surroundings for any threat, but I cannot tear my eyes from the sight of her.

The curve of her backside, round and soft. The smooth expanse of her thighs. The glimpse of something between them, hidden in shadow but unmistakably different from my own anatomy.

Heat floods my veins, pooling low in my gut with an insistence I've never experienced before. My member stirs in its pouch, pressing against the confining tissue with growing urgency.

And then her body gives one final, sharp tremor, and the tension breaks.

At the first hint of water leaving her being, I freeze, alarmed. But then the scent of her fills my nostrils. Dust . So rich . Not just the waste she's expelling, but something deeper. Muskier. It stirs something in me, something that makes my claws itch to extend, my fangs ache to descend.

It is like Rok's scent after he claimed Jus-teen. That same heady musk that clung to him for sols afterward, marking him as changed. As…a male who claimed a female.

By Ain. I dig my claws into the meat of my thigh to keep them sheathed. Control, Tharn . Jah-kee is vulnerable, exposed. You are meant to be guarding her, not... whatever this is.

The thought flickers through my mind that there are no goldweeps here to reclaim her water. The round, thirsty plants cluster in the clan caves, hungrily absorbing what we give them to be purified. Because the dust swallows everything. Precious moisture vanishes in uncaring sand.

A poor trade. Jah-kee’s water is precious.

Yet my focus isn't on wasted water. It's fixed on the differences between our kinds. The water Jus-teen shared with Rok wasn’t this waste Jah-kee is expelling now.

How can there be two waters from the same source?

One for waste, and one for… sharing?From some hidden wellspring I've never seen but now can't stop thinking about?

A soft, hidden place between a female's thighs that my body now aches to touch. To taste.

Jah-kee finishes quickly, lowering her hide-covering and rising. Her face is still flushed, her gaze avoiding mine as she hurries back toward the cave entrance.