Page 32 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)

THE DUST SHIFTS, AND SO DOES MY CONTROL

THARN

T he clan caves are close now. Just over the ridge before us.

The thought should bring relief. Safety. The comfort of familiar stone walls and the protection of my clan-brothers.

Instead, it fills me with dread.

I watch Jah-kee as she walks ahead with Jus-teen.

The desert wind presses her thin garment against her back, outlining the delicate architecture of her shoulder blades.

I count each vertebra like a hunter tracking prey, wondering how they'd feel beneath my claws.

My chest aches with a pain that has become so constant I barely notice it anymore.

Like the burn of muscles after a long hunt or the sting of dust against skin.

What I cannot ignore is what stirs in my pouch.

My member pulses insistently now, pressing against its confines, seeking release. Seeking her. The sensation is foreign, uncomfortable. A constant reminder of how my body changes.

Rok has explained it all. In hushed projections while the females slept, he described the transformation that awaits me. The emergence of my stem from its pouch. The claiming. The sealing of the bond.

" Only then will her mind fully open to yours ," he projected, his mental voice steady but tinged with memory. " Only then will the pain ease completely ."

I did not need to ask what he meant by claiming. The images he shared told me everything. His body joined with Jus-teen's, their minds merging completely in the mindspace.

The thought of doing this with Jah-kee consumes me. When I close my eyes, I see her beneath me, her water-blue eyes darkened with need, her soft body yielding to mine. I see our minds intertwining, our thoughts becoming one.

I want nothing more.

And the wanting is driving me mad.

The wanting is a living thing in my chest, gnawing at my ribs with teeth of fire.

Jah-kee walks ahead, unaware of the war she wages in me with every sway of her hips, every loose strand of head-fur that dances in the wind.

If only she knew. If only she could feel the fire in my veins, the desperate need clawing at my insides.

" We are close to clan territory ," I project, directing my thoughts to Jus-teen to translate. " I am... alert for threats ."

It is not entirely a lie. The male from the rival clan has left me wary. But the true threat is not external.

It is the madness growing within me.

Rok slows his pace, falling back to walk beside me while the females continue ahead. His topaz eyes study me with too much understanding.

" It grows worse ," he projects privately, not a question but a statement.

I say nothing. There is no need. He can see the truth in the tightness of my movements, the strain in my features, the way my claws flex and unflex at my sides.

" When we reach the clan caves —" he begins, but I cut him off with a sharp mental hiss.

" I know what awaits ," I project. " Your warnings are unnecessary ."

A low rumble starts deep in Rok's chest, a sound of profound weariness. " Not warnings, brother. Counsel. The others will sense your distress immediately. And they will wonder about a female for themselves ."

My claws extend fully at the thought of my clan-brothers looking at Jah-kee, at them learning of what stirs between us. A growl builds in my chest, unbidden and uncontrolled.

" They will not touch her ," I project, the words edged with a possessiveness that surprises even me.

" No, they will not, " Rok agrees, his mental voice soothing. " But they will watch. They will wonder. They will...hunger ."

The growl escapes my throat before I can stop it, loud enough that both females turn to look at us. Jah-kee's expression shifts from concern to confusion, her gaze moving between me and Rok as if trying to decipher what caused my reaction.

I cannot meet her eyes. Not now. Not when the mere sight of her makes my member pulse painfully in its pouch, makes my skin glow brighter with need.

"What's going on?" she asks, her voice carrying easily in the still desert air.

Jus-teen glances at Rok, who projects a quick explanation to her. She chin-jerks, then turns to Jah-kee.

"Tharn's just a little... stressed," she vocalizes. "We're getting close to the clan territory. Lots of politics to navigate."

Jah-kee doesn't look convinced, but she doesn't press the issue. Instead, she slows her pace, falling back until she walks beside me while Jus-teen moves ahead with Rok.

My body responds instantly to her proximity. My skin glows brighter, my breaths stutter, my member strains even harder against its pouch. The pain-pleasure of it races through my veins like liquid fire.

"You don't have to pretend with me, you know," she says quietly, her water-blue eyes fixed on the horizon.

Her cheeks flush pink—a reaction I've noticed happens even more regularly now. It makes her even more beautiful, the color highlighting the delicate structure of her face.

"Tharn, you’re a mystery," she vocalizes, her voice slightly breathless. "But I'm glad I met you."

I want to touch her. Dust. I want to touch her. To run my claws gently over her skin, to press my forehead to hers and sink into the mindspace where vocalizations are unnecessary. To claim her completely, to make her mine in every way possible.

The wanting drowns out rational thought, obliterates caution, leaves only need in its wake.

Ahead of us, Rok and Jus-teen have paused, their heads bent close in conversation. As we approach, I catch the tail end of their exchange.

Rok’s eyes are alive with awareness, his expression grim. " Sand moved. Recently. Could be nothing. Could be ?—"

He breaks off, his nostrils flaring as he scents the air. His posture changes instantly, shifting from relaxed to alert in a heartbeat.

He turns, catches my eye, and makes a series of subtle gestures with his hand. Warning signs. Used by the clan when stealth is required.

Danger. Below. Move carefully.

But the signals barely register through the haze of need and pain that clouds my mind. I see his movements, recognize them as important, but their meaning slides away before I can grasp it.

All I can focus on is Rok, his hand too near Jah-kee, his presence a violation. A growl builds in my throat at the sight, irrational but unstoppable.

Mine. Not his. Mine .

I know it makes no sense. Rok is bonded to Jus-teen. But the beast in my blood does not care for sense. It only cares that another male stands too close to what is mine.

" Tharn ," Rok projects sharply, his mental voice cutting through my distraction. " Focus. Dust serpent ."

The words finally penetrate the fog in my mind. Dust serpent. One of the most dangerous predators of the deep dust. They tunnel beneath the surface, hunting by vibration, erupting from below to drag their prey under the dust, where they slowly suffocate before being consumed.

I scan the ground, suddenly alert for the telltale signs. The slight ripple on the sand's surface. The thin spout that marks the serpent's passage.

There. A straight line of disturbed sand, barely visible, moving slowly toward our group.

" Move ," I project urgently, the word lashing out to include all of them. " Now. Away from the line !"

Jus-teen reacts immediately, grabbing Rok's arm and pulling him back. But Jah-kee, unable to hear the mindspace warning, remains where she is, her expression confused.

"What's wrong?" she asks, looking between us. "What's happening?"

The sand beneath her feet shifts subtly. Too subtly for her to notice, but my hunter's eyes catch the movement.

The serpent is directly beneath her.

There is no time for explanation, no time for warnings. I move purely on instinct, lunging forward and shoving Jah-kee aside with all my strength. She flies through the air, landing hard several paces away as the sand where she stood erupts.

The serpent bursts upward, its massive body uncoiling like a whip.

Dust-colored plates ripple along its length, and beneath them, black, glistening underscales that seem to drink in Ain’s light.

Its head is nothing but a mouth. No eyes, no snout, just a circular mouth that blooms open, expanding wider than its own body.

It towers above me, swaying slightly, searching for the prey it sensed moments ago.

Then it strikes.

I dive to the side, but I am slower than usual, my reflexes dulled by pain and distraction.

The serpent's head misses me by a claw’s width, but I feel the displacement of air as it passes, smell the foul rot from its maw.

The ground shudders behind me. A second eruption of sand.

The serpent's tail whips through the air, faster than sight, and slams into me, wrapping around my leg with crushing force.

I hear Jah-kee scream, the sound distant and distorted as the serpent drags me backward, toward the hole it created. My claws scrape against sand, seeking purchase, finding none.

Rok is moving, but he is too far. The sand is already closing around my legs, the serpent pulling me down into its tunnel.

In the last moment before the dust swallows me completely, I catch a glimpse of Jah-kee's face. Her water-blue eyes wide with terror, her mouth open in a scream I can no longer hear.

I'm going to lose her , I think as darkness closes around me. And I never told her. Never claimed her. Never completed the bond.

The serpent's grip tightens, pulling me deeper into the earth. I fight against it, claws extended, slashing blindly at the creature's armored hide. But in the confines of the tunnel, with no room to maneuver, my attacks are ineffective.

My lungs burn for air. The pressure against my chest builds, squeezing mercilessly.

I am going to die here, beneath the dust, unclaimed and unclaiming.

The thought brings a surge of rage so intense it burns through the pain, the lack of air, the crushing pressure. No. I will not die. Not like this. Not before I make Jah-kee mine.

Not before I let her know how much she has come to mean to me.