Page 35 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)

THESE ARE MY PEOPLE. THAT IS MY ALIEN

JACQUI

T he Drakav settlement comes into view as we crest the final ridge, and I can't decide if it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, or the most intimidating.

It's not at all what I expected. Instead of primitive huts or basic shelters, massive stone formations rise against the sky like ancient cathedrals, forming a natural fortress of towering cliffs and hidden crevices.

Openings are scattered across the cliff face, some natural, others obviously carved.

It's both terrifying and beautiful, and way too epic for a girl who just wants a decent meal and a nap.

I'd probably find it even more impressive if I weren't so focused on the fact that Tharn is barely holding it together.

Each step he takes feels heavier, his chest rising and falling like he's running on fumes. Still, his grip on me doesn't loosen, his arms locked around me like I'm the only thing keeping him upright.

I want to tell him to put me down, to let me walk, but I know better now. Knew better even before today. His protective instinct is beyond reason or argument, especially when he's injured and vulnerable.

So instead, I press my hand gently against his chest, right above his heart, offering what comfort I can without words. He glances down at me, something softening in his amber eyes despite the pain I know grips him.

I glance over my shoulder at Rok and Justine, who are walking several paces behind us. Justine's leg is bloody but not bleeding, but Rok's expression is grim as he cradles her in his arms.

We're all running on empty.

Sarven leads our procession, his crimson eyes constantly scanning the horizon for threats, while the remaining hunters drag the serpent's massive corpse behind us, its segmented body leaving a deep furrow in the sand.

As we approach the base of the clan caves, I notice movement above us. Figures—tall, gold, and distinctly Drakav—peer down from the ridges, their eyes tracking us like hawks. The weight of their stares makes my skin prickle, but I keep my head high.

I mean, sure, I'm covered in dust, sweat, and probably blood, but I'm not about to let a bunch of glowing alien supermodels intimidate me.

Not much, anyway.

The entrance to the main cave is huge, and I expect it to be dark and creepy inside. Instead, it's surprisingly bright, the light from outside filtering in through natural cracks in the stone.

And it's packed.

My breath hitches as my eyes land on the group of women gathered along one side of the cavern. Human women.

They're sitting on carved stone steps, their faces animated as they talk and laugh. A spread of food and other offerings—roasted meat, waterskins, and what looks like a pile of shiny rocks—sits below them, clearly laid out by the Drakav.

"Oh my god," I whisper, my hand flying to my mouth. "Justine! They're alive! The others are alive!"

I count quickly—one, two, three... at least a dozen women visible from here, their forms so achingly familiar. Relief crashes through me, bringing tears to my eyes. They made it. They survived.

Mikaela spots us first.

Her braids swing as her head jerks up, a waterskin slipping from her fingers. For one frozen second, she just stares, her lips forming a silent oh my God.

Then—

“JACQUI!”

The scream rips through the cavern. Every head whips toward us.

Chaos erupts.

Feet pound stone. A chorus of shrieks and sobs crashes over me as they surge forward?—

“She’s alive!”

“AND JUSTINE!”

“—can’t believe it—” “—thought you were—” “—look at you both!”

Tharn’s arms tighten around me, his growl vibrating through my back as the first hands reach for me.

Mikaela gets there first. Her fingers clutch my face, her dark eyes scanning me frantically. “ You absolute bastard ,” she chokes, tears streaking her cheeks.

Her fist thumps my shoulder—once, twice—before she yanks me into a hug so tight it hurts. “ Never do that again ,” she hisses in my ear.

I can’t speak. Can only grip her back, my fingers twisting in her shirt as the others swarm us.

Erika’s arms wrap around us both, her happy squeal muffled against my neck. Tina hovers at the edge, wiping her glasses furiously as if she can’t trust her eyes. Pam launches herself at Justine, nearly toppling Rok in the process.

Their voices overlap, a cacophony of questions and scoldings:

“Where have you been?”

“We searched?—”

"Wait—is Hannah with you?" Alex, the nurse, asks, her voice cutting through the noise with sharp concern as she scans our small party.

A cold knot forms in my stomach. I shake my head, looking from Alex's worried face to Mikaela's grim one. "Hannah? No. Why would she be with me? I was alone."

Alex's face falls. "Damn it."

"She took off a few days after you did," Mikaela explains, her voice flat and heavy with a grief I haven't heard from her before. "She went in a different direction. Said there had to be something better out there than just... waiting to die. We tried to stop her."

Guilt hits me. HARD. My reckless departure didn't just put me in danger; it inspired another, more desperate one.

"We didn't let her go alone," Justine says, a wince in her voice. She’s still in Rok’s arms, but her expression is steady. "They sent one of the hunters to track her. His name is Sorn. He's one of their best."

A flicker of hope sparks in my chest. "So you think he found her? That they're okay?"

The hope dies when I see the look on Justine's face. "Neither of them have returned."

The silence that follows is heavy, a stark reminder of the dangers that still lurk beyond these caves. The joy of our reunion is suddenly, painfully, incomplete.

“Your sister nearly killed us—” one of the other women starts, breaking the tense quiet.

Justine snorts. “Lies. I was very patient.”

More chatter ensures. Through it all, Tharn doesn’t let go.

Not when Mikaela glares up at him, sizing up the alien who carried me home.

Not when Erika accidentally elbows him while reaching for me.

Not even when Pam—bless her—tries to peel me from his arms like he’s a particularly stubborn backpack.

“He’s not letting go, is he?” Mikaela mutters, eyeing Tharn’s claws where they cradle my thighs.

I shake my head, my cheek brushing Tharn’s chest.

“He’s the one who found you?"

I nod, my hand instinctively moving to rest on Tharn's arm. "This is Tharn. He saved my life. More than once."

Mikaela's gaze sharpens, assessing the massive alien with undisguised skepticism. "You okay?" she whispers. "Because I didn't trust this guy to find and keep you safe. No offense."

I feel a surge of protectiveness that surprises me with its intensity. "He almost died pulling me out of the desert," I almost snap. "And again today, when a sand serpent attacked us. I'm here because of him."

Oh…why…why did I respond like that? That isn’t me at all.

But something in my tone registers, because Mikaela's eyebrows rise slightly, her gaze flickering between me and Tharn with new speculation. Her lips press into a thin line, but she nods. "Good. But know that if he didn’t bring you back, I'd have kicked his ass. Alien or not."

I don't bother pointing out that she's about half Tharn's size. Somehow, I think she'd still find a way. Instead, my heart warms. Mikaela cares.

The chaos swirls around us, a blur of familiar faces and happy, crying voices. But my focus narrows on my sister. Rok has set her down gently on a stone bench, and she’s looking at me, really looking at me, a million unspoken questions in her eyes.

I wiggle one hand free from Tharn's unyielding grip. I fumble inside my bra, my fingers closing around the two small, hard shapes I’ve kept safe.

"Jus," I say, my voice thick. "I think... these belong to you."

I hold out the small butterfly earrings. They glint in the cavern's dim light, two tiny, impossible pieces of home.

The chatter around us fades into a dull roar. Justine’s breath hitches. Tears well in her eyes, spilling over to trace paths through the grime on her cheeks. "You found it," she chokes out. "My god, Jacqui, you found the other one."

"I did," I say, my own tears starting to fall freely now.

Her trembling fingers take the earrings from my palm. She closes her hand around them, holding them tight, her gaze still locked with mine.

"Our mother's earrings," she sobs. "They're together again."

I reach out, my hand covering hers. "We're together again," I correct softly.

A watery, brilliant smile breaks through her tears. "Yeah," she says. "We are."

It’s only then, as the knot of fear I've carried for weeks finally unravels, that I notice something else in my sister's eyes. A new strength. A deep, settled peace I haven't seen in her since before our world fell apart. She’s not just a survivor. She’s… happy.

Before she can say more, we're engulfed by more women, their voices a blur of questions and exclamations. Some approach, gripping me in their arms. I hug them back, wordless, tears gathering in my eyes.

They all look different from what I remember. Thinner, tanner, their clothes showing signs of hard wear and creative repairs. But they're alive, and the sight of them fills me with a joy so intense it's almost painful.

We’re here. Alive.

Tharn brought me home. His home.

As I look around the massive clan cave, I'm struck by how orderly everything is.

Stone platforms line the walls, which I assume are sleeping places.

Various implements—tools, weapons, and containers made from unfamiliar materials—hang from pegs driven into the rock.

A fire pit burns in the center, the smoke rising through a natural chimney in the ceiling.

The human women have established themselves along one side of the cave, their meager belongings clustered together in what looks like a protective huddle.