The hunt slips from my grasp, forgotten, as I step forward. The sound alerts her, and she turns, startled, her eyes finding mine across the chamber.

She does not scream. Does not try to hide. Instead, she watches me with those impossibly blue eyes, her chin lifted slightly, a challenge or an invitation—I cannot tell which.

I move closer, crouching at the edge of the pool, my gaze never leaving hers. Beautiful. She is…beautiful. The water on her. I have never seen a sight more entrancing.

Her eyes lock with mine—steady, unflinching. There’s a challenge there, a daring glint that holds me captive.

I draw in a breath, catching her scent—clean water, and something uniquely hers. Something wild. It stirs a beast deep inside me, a pull I can’t fight, even if I wanted to.

“Rok,” she says, my name soft on her lips, but the sound of it strikes me like a thunderclap. I feel it in my chest, in my blood, a jolt that robs me of sense and reason.

I lean closer, too close. My balance shifts, my weight tipping forward as if I can’t bear the distance between us any longer.

The world tilts.

The cool shock of water engulfs me as I plunge into the pool, the heat of my skin extinguished in an instant. Everything is muffled—except for her laugh. Low, surprised, and undeniably amused.

I break the surface, gasping for air, my hair plastered to my face. She’s there, treading the water beside me, light in her eyes.

“You fell,” she says.

I reach for her, my hands finding her waist, steadying her as the water shifts around us. She is soft beneath my touch, yielding yet strong, a contradiction that fascinates me.

Her hands come to rest against my chest, directly over the place where that strange fire has burned since I left her. At her touch, it transforms, changing from pain to a different kind of heat—intense but pleasant, consuming but welcome.

She looks up at me, water clinging to her face, her lips parted slightly. I remember the sharing of water, the press of her mouth against mine, and suddenly I want nothing more than to experience that again.

I lean down, drawn by a force as inexorable as the pull of Ain’s light. She stiffens for just a moment, surprised perhaps by my boldness, but then she rises to meet me, her lips finding mine in a gesture that is becoming familiar yet remains thrillingly new.

The contact sends a surge through me, the glow beneath my skin brightening until it illuminates the water around us, casting everything in golden light. Her mouth moves against mine, teaching me this strange, intimate language, and I respond eagerly, learning with each passing moment.

This is more than sharing water. This is...connection. Understanding. A bridge across the vast gulf that separates our worlds.

When we finally part, both breathless, the look in her eyes tells me she feels it too—this inexplicable bond, this tether that binds us, that brings me pain when she is not near, that pulls us together across all barriers of language and species.

“Rok,” she whispers again, and in that single syllable, I hear everything I need to know.

The hunt can wait. The danger can wait. The dust and all its threats can wait.

For now, there is only this—her in my arms, her eyes reflecting my glow, her breath mingling with mine in the cool darkness of our sanctuary.

And for the first time since I found her in the dust, I feel truly, completely alive.

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Chapter 22

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FIVE STARS. WOULD GET KIDNAPPED AGAIN (MAYBE)

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JUSTINE

His hands find my waist in the water, strong and sure, and before I can process what’s happening, Rok lifts me. Water streams from my body, cascading back into the pool as he carries me to the edge and sets me down on the cool stone.

The contrast between the stone’s chill and my heated skin sends a shiver through me. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at me—eyes luminous in the dim light, pupils dilated, focused on me with an intensity that steals my breath.

“Rok,” I whisper, suddenly aware of my nakedness, of my vulnerability. I should feel embarrassed, exposed. I should reach for my clothes.

I do none of those things.

Instead, I watch, mesmerized, as he pulls himself from the pool in one fluid motion, water sluicing off his golden skin. He crouches before me, his face inches from mine, studying me with that predatory focus that should terrify me but instead sends a thrill of anticipation through my body.

My headache is gone. Completely gone. As if it never existed. The water—there must be something in the water. The same way my fever disappeared when he brought me water before. But instead of relief, I feel…something else. A different kind of heat building inside me, a restlessness that makes me shift on the stone.

Oh no. I cannot be getting horny.

Rok inches closer, his nostrils flaring slightly as if he’s catching my scent. His glow suddenly flares and pulses brighter in the dimness, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the broad expanse of his chest. He reaches for me, one clawed hand hovering just above my shoulder, before he stops.

I should shift away. I should remember all the reasons why this is a terrible idea. I should⁠—

A lump forms in my throat. I swallow it down…and I don’t move.

His hand descends, his touch feather-light as his fingers trace the curve of my shoulder, down my arm, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His expression is one of wonder, of discovery, as if he’s mapping uncharted territory.

“This is insane,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. “You’re an alien and I⁠—”

He silences me with his lips on mine, soft at first, questioning, then more insistent as I respond. His mouth is hot, demanding, the kiss deeper than before, exploring rather than just connecting. I gasp against him, and he takes the opportunity to tilt his head, changing the angle, deepening the kiss further.

My hands find his shoulders, his skin warm and smooth beneath my palms. I dig my fingers in, holding on as the world spins around me. He growls into my mouth, and the vibration sends shockwaves through my body, igniting nerve endings I didn’t know existed.

When he pulls away, I’m panting, my lips tingling. Oh God. He shouldn’t taste so good. This shouldn’t feel that good.

I think he’s done, but he doesn’t go far. His forehead rests against mine, our breaths mingling in the small space between us. His glow has intensified, casting golden light across the stone around us, turning the water into rippling amber.

“We should slow down,” I say weakly, but my body betrays me, arching toward him.

He doesn’t understand my words, but maybe he senses my hesitation. He pulls back slightly, head tilted, studying my face. Then he reaches up, one finger tracing the outline of my lips with exquisite gentleness.

I should be afraid. Those claws could tear me apart. But I’m not. Not at all. I’m pretty sure this wild, wild thing would never harm me. I know that for certain now.

His first touch is hesitant—clumsy, even—like he’s mapping foreign terrain. The brush of his lips against my jaw is featherlight, uncertain, as if he expects me to vanish under his hands. But then his breath hitches, his nose dragging along my pulse like he’s memorizing my scent, and something shifts. The moment his tongue flicks out to taste my skin, restraint snaps. His mouth grows bolder, hot and open against my throat, his teeth scraping in a way that makes my back arch. It’s like he’s discovering hunger for the first time, and now that he’s had a bite, he can’t stop.