Page 4 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)

JACQUI

M y palms tingle where I clutch my weapon too tight. I press myself deeper into the shadows of the cave, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Before me, at the base of the rock face, is a hallucination. It has to be.

Because I’m looking at an honest-to-God man.

A naked man.

I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them again like a reboot will somehow help.

He’s tall. Impossibly muscled. With golden-bronze skin that looks so rich, he must be painted.

My dehydrated, half-starved brain can't decide if he’s a very creative hallucination my dying mind conjured to seduce itself, an actual threat who inexplicably moisturizes, or proof I've been alone in this desert exactly three days too long.

Jacqui, you’re losing your marbles. Officially . That tall shadow I saw before I passed out must have been the opening act, because this is the main performance.

At least the predators I ran into had the decency to be horrifying in a traditional way. This? This is worse. This is confusing.

My head pounds, but the raging fire of the fever has lessened. My throat isn't a desert of its own anymore, just raw. And the wound on my leg… it throbs, but it doesn’t scream. It feels… different.

The hallucination crouches, examining something on the ground. My tracks, probably. I hadn’t been careful. But does it matter if this is all in my head?

Jacqui, you fool, hallucinations don’t kick up sand when they walk. They don’t cast shadows. And they definitely don’t tilt their heads like wolves scenting prey.

My breath ceases as his head snaps up.

Golden eyes lock onto mine, piercing through the shadows like he’s found the only source of water in this entire wasteland. The look is so intense, so focused, it steals the air from my lungs.

Oh, fuck. Predators aren't supposed to look at you with that much… hunger. And it doesn't feel like the "I want to eat you" kind.

My heart plummets as he begins to climb, his massive form ascending the rock face with an ease that makes my own desperate scramble feel laughable. I raise my weapon, the pathetic shard of metal trembling in my grip.

He appears in the entrance, his massive form blocking the light. His copper auburn hair casts his face in shadow, but I can see the sharp glint of fangs. The memory of the shadow creatures, of their claws and screeches, slams through me.

Survival instinct overrides everything. I lunge, swinging the warped metal with all the strength my exhausted body can muster.

He doesn’t even flinch.

The weapon connects with his arm—and bounces off like I’ve just hit solid rock.

He moves then, faster than anything his size should be capable of, catching my wrist in a grip that’s firm, almost crushing.

“No!” I thrash. Wildly. Kicking and scratching.

I even try biting him. I use every dirty trick I’ve ever learned.

But it’s useless. He restrains me with insulting ease, pinning me to the cave floor with my arms above my head, his weight distributed so I can’t move but can still breathe. Pain lances in my wrist.

“Get…OFF me!” I scream, knowing it’s useless but unable to stop fighting. “Let…me…go!”

There’s a grunt in his throat, a wince as he turns his head away from me. His brows furrow as if I’m the one causing him pain. And in that moment of pinned desperation, my frantic eyes catch sight of my own leg.

There’s something stuck to my calf. A poultice of dark, crushed leaves, clinging to my skin right over the gash.

My fevered brain stumbles, short-circuiting.

I didn’t do this. I was delirious. Bleeding out. I don’t know these plants. Someone—or something—tended my wound while I was unconscious.

The thing currently pinning me to the floor… also played nurse?

The thought is so absurd, so impossible, that my struggles cease for a single, stunned second.

And in that second, it happens.

I open my mouth to scream again when, like an easily distracted infant, my eyes catch on something impossible.

Light.

Where his skin touches mine…light blooms. It’s subtle at first. A faint golden glow that pulses between us where his clawed fingers grip my wrists. Then it intensifies, spreading up his arms like a firework, illuminating the cave like a signal fire.

He jerks back as if he’s been burned, releasing me and stumbling to his feet. His pupils blow wide, swallowing the amber of his eyes until there's almost none left.

For one terrifying heartbeat, I recognize his expression. It's the same look I had when I first saw this godforsaken desert. Pure, animal shock. The kind that bypasses language and culture and whatever evolutionary tree he climbed. A low, guttural sound escapes him. Clearly distressed.

I scramble backward, too stunned to run.

What the hell was that ? Alien static shock?

Some kind of defense mechanism? My frazzled brain serves up the absurd image of golden pollen, except made of light instead of plant matter.

Which is ridiculous. There are no flowers in this wasteland. Just death and dust and whatever he is.

And why is he acting like he's the one who got zapped? I'm the one who should be clutching her chest and making wounded noises. Not him—all seven feet of sculpted alien menace currently looking at me like I just rearranged his DNA with a touch.

I grip my wrist, barely aware of the blood there as I shuffle farther away from him, knowing that if he lunges for me again, there’s nothing I can do. I’m clearly too weak to harm him, and even if I were at full strength, my efforts would be pointless.

Think of something, Jacqui. Think of a plan.

My eyes flick over the cave floor, searching for something, anything, and that’s when something else catches my eye—a small object sitting on the cave floor. Something that glints in his fading light. Something familiar. Something impossible.

A butterfly earring. Golden and pink crystal.

Justine’s earring. The twin of the one currently burning a hole against my breastbone.

The air leaves my lungs.

We both notice it at the same time. His body goes rigid. My vision narrows to that single, tiny object on the dusty floor.

For a moment, we just stare at it. Then, with terrifying slowness, he reaches down.

I flinch, but he only retrieves the earring, holding it between clawed fingers like it might dissolve. His eyes flick to mine, searching. Then slowly, he places it on the ground between us.

He’s…not keeping it. He’s offering it?

What…the…

My mind races with possibilities. He’s killed her and taken it as a trophy. No, he wouldn’t offer it back. He’s found her body. No, he wouldn’t look so purposeful, so intent.

“Justine?” I whisper, her name scraping past my raw throat. “Where did you get this? Is she…is she alive?”

Something flickers across his face. Pain? Regret? He doesn’t answer. He just tilts his head, those piercing golden eyes locked on my lips as if he’s trying to decipher the very shape of my words. It’s disturbingly close to how my neighbor’s dog used to watch me when I offered it a treat.

But this isn’t a dog.

This is a seven-foot-tall alien warrior who glows when he touches me. And he knows where my sister is.