Page 26 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)

MY ALIEN ABDUCTION WAS AN INSIDE JOB

JACQUI

I 'm in the desert, but it's different somehow.

The sand beneath my feet isn't harsh and burning, but soft and yielding, almost like silk.

The sky above isn't the merciless yellow of the day or the star-studded black of night, but a strange, golden twilight that casts everything in a warm, hazy glow.

I'm alone, but I don't feel afraid. There's a sense of anticipation in the air, like the desert itself is holding its breath, waiting for something—or someone.

And then I hear it—my name, but not quite my name. "Jah-kee."

The voice is deep, resonant, and it comes from everywhere and nowhere at once. It wraps around me like a physical touch, making my skin prickle with awareness.

"Where are you?" I call out, turning in a slow circle. The desert stretches endlessly in all directions, beautiful and smooth.

"Here," the voice says, and suddenly he is. Tharn, standing before me where nothing was just a moment ago.

But he's different in this golden dream-desert. His skin glows brighter. His amber eyes are molten, burning with an intensity that should frighten me, but instead makes something low in my belly tighten with anticipation.

"Tharn," I breathe, and the name feels right on my tongue, like I've been saying it all my life.

He moves toward me with the fluid grace of a predator, but I don't feel like prey. Or if I am, I want to be caught.

"Jah-kee," he says again, and this time I hear it not just with my ears but inside my head, a mental caress that makes me shiver. "You hear me now."

"Yes," I whisper, though I'm not sure if I speak aloud or just think the word. It doesn't seem to matter here, in this golden place between reality and dream.

He stops just before me, so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body. His scent fills my nostrils. Wild and alien. Leather and heat. It's intoxicating.

"I have waited," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "So long, I have waited for you to hear me."

"I'm sorry," I say, and the thought is an ache. I'm sorry for all the times I didn't understand, all the times I thought he was just staring at me, all the times I failed to hear what he was trying so desperately to tell me.

His hand rises, hovering just beside my face, not quite touching. "May I?" he asks, and the gentleness in his voice, in his eyes, makes my heart ache.

I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

The moment his fingers brush my cheek, my thoughts shatter.

A jolt of pure heat races through me as the glow beneath his skin flares.

I can feel it pouring into me like a thick, warm honey that pools low in my belly and makes my knees weak.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes roaming my face like he’s memorizing every detail. "Your light calls to mine."

His touch trails down my jaw, down the sensitive column of my neck, to the hollow of my throat where my pulse hammers. Everywhere he touches, my body comes alive, hypersensitive and trembling. I should be afraid. His claws are sharp, dangerous, but his touch is impossibly gentle, reverent even.

"Tharn," I whisper, his name catching in my throat as his hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer.

"You are mine," he says, his voice rougher now, filled with a hunger that sends a jolt of heat straight to my core. "And I am yours."

My breath catches as his body presses against mine, solid and impossibly warm. My heart pounds, a frantic rhythm that echoes in my ears, and I suddenly notice the glow at his waist.

Oh.

I can’t look away.

The light beneath his skin is blindingly bright there, obscuring the details of what I see, but even through the glow, I can make out... enough .

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. My blood roars in my ears, and a desperate part of me wants to see more, to know exactly what I’m dealing with.

But then he steps closer, and the glow intensifies, and when he presses against me, I forget how to think at all.

His claws skim over my thighs, light as a whisper, and I gasp, my body arching instinctively toward him. His touch leaves trails of fire in its wake, and I’m burning now, consumed by a need I don’t even know how to describe.

"You are mine," he growls, his voice vibrating through me as his hand slides higher, impossibly gentle yet so commanding it makes my knees weak.

"Say it," he urges, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Say you are mine."

"I’m yours," I gasp as his fingers find the most sensitive part of me, teasing with a touch so light it almost drives me mad. "I’m yours, Tharn."

The sound he makes is a raw, satisfied snarl. His hands are on my hips, lifting me as if I weigh nothing. He hikes my legs, wrapping them around his waist, and my world tilts. I am open to him, vulnerable, my core aching and needy.

I feel the blunt, hot pressure of his tip against me, just before he thrusts forward, filling me in one powerful motion.

I cry out, clinging to him as pleasure and pain mix in a way that’s almost unbearable. He’s so big, stretching me in a way that feels like too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what I need.

The glow between us flares impossibly bright, and I lose myself completely.

"Mine," he growls one last time, and then I'm shattering, coming apart in his arms as waves of ecstasy crash over me. Golden and perfect and endless.

I wake with a gasp, my body still thrumming with the aftershocks of what was definitely not just a normal dream. My skin is flushed and damp with sweat, my heart racing like I've run a marathon, and there's an ache between my thighs that has nothing to do with my recent illness.

Oh…my God .

I lie perfectly still, trying to calm my breathing, trying to make sense of what just happened. It was a dream. Just a dream. A very vivid, very... specific kind of dream about Tharn, but still just a dream.

Right?

Except it felt so real. His touch, his voice in my head, the golden light that connected us. The sensations were too intense, too detailed to be just my imagination.

But that's ridiculous. Aliens don't invade your dreams and give you the best orgasm of your life. That's not a thing that happens in reality, even in a reality where aliens exist and your sister can talk to them telepathically.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to banish the lingering images, the ghost-sensation of his hands on my body, his mouth on mine. It doesn't work. If anything, closing my eyes just makes the memories more vivid.

I need to get a grip. It was just a dream, brought on by stress, and nearly dying, and finding out my sister can communicate psychically with aliens. Perfectly normal under the circumstances. Nothing to freak out about.

Except...

Except Justine said she was having dreams too.

Fuuuuuuck.

I crack one eye open, scanning the cave for Tharn. He's still there, on the far side, but he's not pacing anymore. He's sitting with his back against the wall, his legs stretched out, his arms resting on them. And he's watching me.

His amber eyes are fixed on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. His chest rises and falls rapidly, as if he's been running.

Does he know? Can he tell what I was dreaming about? Is that even possible?

I tear my gaze away, heat flooding my face. This is mortifying. I just had the most erotic dream of my life about an alien who's probably been trying to talk to me about perfectly normal, non-sexual things this whole time, and now I can't even look at him without blushing like a teenager.

"Jacqui?" Justine's voice startles me so badly I nearly jump out of my skin. I hadn’t even realized she was back. "You okay? You’re looking a little... flushed."

"I’m fine," I say quickly, my voice coming out higher than usual. "Just... just a dream. Not a big deal."

Justine pauses, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she studies me. Her expression is casual, but I know her too well. That slight furrow between her brows, the way her lips press together for half a second before she speaks. It’s worry. She’s trying to hide it, but it’s there.

"A dream," she repeats, her tone light, almost teasing. Too light.

"Yes, a dream," I snap, looking up at the stone ceiling as if it can shield me from her gaze. "People have them all the time. It’s perfectly normal."

"Right," she says slowly, leaning against the cave wall. Her arms cross over her chest, but there’s no mistaking the flicker of unease in her eyes. "Perfectly normal."

I narrow my eyes at her. "Don't you have hunting to do or something?"

She laughs, the sound echoing in the cave. "Already done. Rok caught dust crabs. They’re actually pretty good."

As if on cue, my stomach growls loudly. Despite the lingering embarrassment, I realize I'm starving. How long has it been since I've had real food?

"Should we really be eating these things?" I hesitate. "If what you think is true…"

"Well…" Justine says with a shrug. "We don’t have a choice. And you need to get your strength back. There’s a long journey ahead of us."

Right. To the clan caves. Where all the other women are. Where more of Tharn’s people are.

I swallow hard.

Justine turns to prepare some of the meat, and I take the opportunity to steal another glance at Tharn. He hasn't moved, but his glow seems to have settled into a steadier rhythm, less frantic than before.

Maybe he doesn't know about the dream after all.

But then his eyes meet mine, and my stomach drops.

There’s something in his gaze—sharp, focused, like he’s peeling back my defenses layer by layer. Like he knows.

I force myself to look away, but it’s too late. The sensation lingers, crawling under my skin and making my pulse race. My fingers tighten on the stone, trying to ground myself, but the memory of his touch in the dream feels too real to shake.

And then I feel it again—that warmth blooming in my chest, spreading through me like a live wire, sparking every nerve it touches.

"Jacqui," Justine says, her voice cutting through the tension. I flinch, startled, and turn to her. She’s holding a piece of cooked crab out to me, concern flickering in her eyes again.

"You sure you’re okay?"

I nod too quickly, grabbing the meat just to give my hands something to do. "I’m fine," I say, even though my throat feels tight and my voice sounds hollow.

But I’m not fine.

Because when I glance back at Tharn, his eyes are still on me, glowing faintly in the firelight. And for just a moment, I swear I feel it—his presence brushing against my mind.

A warning, maybe.

Or a promise.

“Hey…” Justine kneels by my side, her voice soft but steady, like she’s trying not to startle me.

“If you’re feeling overwhelmed… if you really want to understand him…

” She hesitates, her gaze dropping to the sand for a moment before lifting to meet mine.

“Try pressing your forehead to his. It’s…

grounding. It helps you hear them. Really hear them. ”

I blink at her, startled by the sincerity in her tone. “You’ve done it?”

She nods, her lips quirking faintly. “Yeah. It’s strange at first, but it helped me. It might…it might help you too.”

My eyes drift to Tharn, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his face. He’s sitting so still, almost like he’s holding himself back.

His throat moves, and I swallow hard, my pulse pounding in my ears as I force myself to look away again.

It might help you, too .

I don’t know what’s happening to me. But I’m starting to think it's not a bond I can choose to form.

It's a door that's already been kicked wide open.