But I was. And I will be her shield.

We reach the new formation when Ain has almost completed her descent. This structure is different from the one we left—taller, more jagged, with deeper crevices carved by wind and time. Perfect for hiding.

I scan the perimeter, searching for any sign of the hunters or other predators. Nothing. The dust is still.

For now.

Setting Jus-teen down in the shade, I gesture for her to wait as I assess our temporary sanctuary. She does that movement with her head—the quick lowering of her chin that I’ve come to recognize as agreement—before she sinks to the ground, her back against the stone.

The entrance narrows quickly, forcing even smaller Drakav to turn sideways. A natural defense I’ve relied on before. Beyond lies the main chamber with its high ceiling where sound travels strangely, echoing in ways that confuse those unfamiliar with its patterns. Then the passage to the left that leads to the small sleeping chamber, and the one to the right that descends sharply to what I seek.

I move through the familiar passages with practiced silence, confirming nothing has changed since I last took shelter here during the great dust storms two seasons past. No signs of recent visitors. No disturbance of the stone dust that accumulates near the unused chambers. Good.

I make my way to the hidden heart of the formation—a chamber accessible only through a crevice that requires turning one’s body at an awkward angle to pass through. Inside, the air grows noticeably cooler, the temperature dropping to a comfortable chill that will help ease Jus-teen’s discomfort.

And there, in the center of the chamber, is the greatest treasure this formation holds: the sacred pool. Not large—perhaps the span of three bodies across—but deep and clear, the water clean and pure, reflecting the stone ceiling above like a mirror. Fed by underground springs that run beneath the desert, it remains even during the most terrible droughts.

Water. Life. Healing.

The sight fills me with relief. This is what Jus-teen needs most now—cool water to drink and soothe her burning skin. Perhaps its properties will help slow whatever poison has taken hold in her foreign body once more.

I return to Jus-teen quickly, finding her where I left her, though her eyes are closed now, her breathing shallow. When I approach, she startles, then relaxes upon seeing me.

I gesture for her to follow, and she rises slowly, her movements stiff and pained. The journey has taken its toll on her already weakened body.

Without thinking, I sweep her into my arms once more, cradling her against my chest. She makes a small sound of surprise but does not protest. Instead, she rests her head against my shoulder, her eyes drifting closed again.

The passage to the hidden chamber is narrow, requiring me to turn sideways with her in my arms at points, but I navigate it carefully, protecting her from the jagged edges of stone. When we emerge into the chamber, her eyes open, widening at the sight of the water.

“Water,” she whispers.

“Wah-ter,” I mumble, forcing my throat to work. Her gaze flies to mine and she bares her teeth at me in delight. I bare my teeth back. I have made her happy. This is good.

I set her down gently at the edge of the pool, and she reaches out, trailing her fingers through the clear liquid with a reverence I understand all too well. Water is life in the dust. Water is everything.

I crouch beside her, cupping my hands to gather some of the precious liquid, then offer it to her. She looks at me, then at the water in my palms, before leaning forward to drink from my hands. The trust in this simple act sends another of those strange flutters through my chest.

She drinks deeply, her eyes closing in pleasure, and I find myself watching the movement of her throat, the curve of her neck, the way her lashes rest against her cheeks. She is unlike anything I have ever seen before—alien, yes, but also…beautiful, in a way I cannot fully comprehend.

When she has drunk her fill, she sits back, exhaling deeply, some of the tension leaving her body. “Thank you,” she says.

Gratitude perhaps. Or maybe she is saying she simply wishes to rest now.

I do her chin jerk motion then gesture to the pool and back to her, hoping she understands my meaning: Rest. Drink. I will return.

Her brow furrows, and I see the question in her eyes: Where are you going?

I mime hunting, making a gesture with my claws that I hope conveys the concept of bringing back food. Her expression clears, and she chin jerks again, though there is uncertainty in her eyes.

I hesitate. The chamber is safe, hidden, defensible. She will be protected here. But the thought of leaving her, even for a short time, sends a twist of discomfort through me.

Yet I must. She needs nourishment beyond what the fire blooms can provide, and the creatures that make their homes near these rocks will sustain us both.

With a final glance at her, I turn and make my way back through the passage, emerging once more into the harsh light of late afternoon.

The pain begins the moment I step away from the formation.

It is different this time—not the sharp, pulling sensation I felt in the cave, but a spreading warmth that builds in intensity with each step I take. Like fire in my veins, flowing outward from my chest to every extremity.

I press on, fighting against it, determined to fulfill my purpose. The dust is alive with small life for those who know where to look—creatures that burrow beneath the dust, serpents that bask on the rocks, and larger prey I will not hunt this sol.

I focus on the hunt, on the familiar rhythm of tracking, stalking, capturing. But the pain persists, growing stronger, more insistent. It is not debilitating, not yet, but it is…distracting. Each successful capture is followed by an overwhelming urge to return to the formation, to Jus-teen.

I resist, gathering more prey than I initially intended, as if to justify the time spent away from her. By the time Ain touches the horizon, painting the dust in shades of amber and gold, I have enough to sustain us for at least two sols.

The return journey is swift, driven by the increasing discomfort in my chest. It is not pain, exactly, but a burning need, a compulsion that grows stronger with each beat of my dra-kir.

I reach the formation just as the first lights appear in the darkening sky, slipping through the narrow passages with ease despite my burden of fresh-caught prey.

As I approach the chamber, I slow, sensing a change in the air—a shift in humidity, the gentle sound of movement in water. I pause at the entrance, my free hand resting against the cool stone.

Jus-teen is in the pool.

She floats on her back, eyes closed, her strange coverings set aside on the stone edge. The water embraces her, supporting her in a way that seems to ease her pain. Even from here, I can see the tension has left her body, replaced by a calm serenity I have not witnessed since we met.

She is…revealed. Completely. Exposed in a way I have not seen before.

Water sluices down the mounds on her chest, her hips, the dark curls between her thighs. My mouth waters. Within my pouch, my stem jerks so hard it hurts. If I touched her now, I would ruin her. If I tasted her, I would forget mercy.

I should turn away. Should retreat to allow her privacy.

I do none of these things.

Instead, I watch, transfixed, as she moves through the water with slow movements, careful not to splash, to waste a single precious drop. Her skin gleams in the fading light that filters through cracks in the ceiling, droplets clinging to her like tiny stars.

I have always thought water was the most beautiful thing in the dust—clear, vital, sacred. But I was wrong.

It is her.