She points to the stone formation again, then back to the figures, vocalizing softly, her tone urgent and pleading.

My claws curl into the stone floor as I try to make sense of her meaning.

The stone. The figures. Ain.

She pauses, glancing at me with wide, expectant eyes, as though willing me to understand. But I don’t.

Her lips press together in what looks like frustration. She draws more figures, pointing to them as she speaks, her voice trembling with emotion. The same vocalizations again. Over and over.

“Jah-kee. Mih-kay-la. Eh-rihka.”

Then it clicks. She names them. She names them.

The sound of her voice, the way her hands move, the desperation in her tone—it all clicks into place. As she draws two more lines—one leading from her figure to the fallen stone, the other from my figure to the same point, I understand.

There are more of her.

And she wants to go back for them.

Her people.

Daughters of Ain.

The realization hits me like a blow, and my chest heaves with the weight of it.

She is not alone. Was not alone. She wants to return to the place where I found her, near the Silent Valley, where danger lingers.

She wants to go back.

And I have no choice but to take her.

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Chapter 25

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THIS IS FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE. I’M TOTALLY FINE

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JUSTINE

Rok won’t look at me.

He’s been pacing for hours, his movements growing increasingly agitated with each pass across the cave floor. Every few minutes, he pauses to stare at the entrance, nostrils flaring, head tilted as if listening for something I can’t hear.

“Are they still out there?” I ask, even though I know he can’t understand me. “The other aliens?”

No response. Just more pacing, his claws scraping against stone with each turn.

I watch him from where I’m sitting by the small fire, the remains of the last lizard-thing long since picked clean. The cave has grown darker as the day progresses, shadows lengthening as the light filtering through the ceiling cracks changes from harsh white to a softer gold.

Rok’s behavior is…concerning. He’s always been a bit wild—I mean, I knew that from the moment I met him—but this is different. There’s a frantic quality to his movements, a tension in his shoulders I haven’t seen before. His glow pulses erratically beneath his skin, flaring brighter whenever he glances my way.

Which isn’t often.

In fact, he seems to be going out of his way to avoid looking at me. Like making eye contact might somehow hurt him.

“You know, the silent treatment is getting a little old,” I say, mostly to fill the uncomfortable silence. “Especially now that I know you can actually talk. Sort of.”

I still can’t wrap my head around it. His voice in my mind—clear as day, rich and deep with that strange accent I can’t place. Not some hallucination or fever dream, but actual communication.

Telepathy. Actual honest-to-God telepathy.

“The longer I stay on this hellscape of a planet, the weirder things get,” I mutter, poking at the fire with the bone stick. “Next thing you know, I’ll be growing a third eye or developing the ability to shoot laser beams from my fingertips.”

I glance up, half hoping for a reaction, but Rok is focused intently on the cave entrance again, his body tense and alert.

“You said there was danger,” I say, my tone more serious now. “Is it those other aliens? The ones who were hunting you?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch to suggest he’s heard me.

I sigh, setting the bone aside and drawing my knees up to my chest. “If we could just talk properly, this would be so much easier. All those times you’ve been staring at me—were you trying to communicate? Was I just too dense to hear you?”

The thought makes something sour swell in my chest. How frustrating must it have been for him, trying to reach me while I remained oblivious?

“Maybe it’s this place,” I say, gesturing vaguely around us. “Maybe the longer I’m stuck under Bitch Sun, the more I’m adapting. Developing new skills. Like hearing voices in my head.”

I laugh, but there’s no mirth in it.

“That’s it. I’m officially going crazy. Next, I’ll be naming the rocks and having deep conversations with that pool over there.”

But I know I’m not imagining it. His voice was real—as real as anything can be on this strange, impossible world.

Through the corner of my eye, I catch Rok watching me, his gaze intense and burning. He looks away the moment I turn toward him, but not before I see something in his expression that sends a delicious shiver down my spine.

Hunger.

The memory of what happened between us rushes back, almost overwhelming. His mouth on me. The way my body responded to him, as if he knew exactly what I needed before I did. The pleasure that had crashed over me. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

I press my thighs together, trying to ignore the heat building low in my belly. Not the time, Justine. Not the time.

But apparently my body hasn’t gotten that memo. Because even now, with Rok clearly struggling with…whatever he’s struggling with, I can’t stop thinking about his hands on my skin, his tongue on my…the way he licked my…Fuck.

“Focus,” I mutter to myself, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. “We need to get out of here, find the others, and figure out how to get off this planet. No time for interspecies hookups, no matter how mind-blowing they might be.”

When I look up again, the cave has grown noticeably darker. The light filtering through the cracks has faded to a deep amber, signaling the approach of night. Rok has stopped pacing, his attention now fixed on me, his expression unreadable in the growing shadows.

For several long moments, neither of us moves. The only sounds are the occasional pop of the fire stones and the distant, eerie howl of wind through the stone formations outside.

Then, without warning, Rok moves toward me.

“Rok?” I whisper.

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken. His eyes are locked on mine, and just the look in those eyes has my thoughts shooting back to what happened between us earlier. I swallow hard.

The closer he gets, the more I notice the tremors running through his body. His claws curl and flex at his sides, as if he’s fighting to keep himself grounded.

Oh God.

Something’s wrong—something worse than I thought.

I swallow again, my stomach filling with dread. He’s always been strange to me—he’s an alien, after all—but this is different. The careful control he’s always maintained, even in his most primal moments, is gone. Ever since…

Oh fuck.

The realization makes the cave go cold.

The Xyma water.

What if I poisoned him? What if something in the water—something I didn’t even realize was dangerous—did this to him?

“Rok?” I say again, louder this time, my voice rising with panic.

Still, he doesn’t respond.

When he finally reaches me, he sinks into a crouch, his broad shoulders trembling with the effort. Each inhalation shudders through him like it hurts to draw breath.

“Rok, look at me,” I whisper. “Please, tell me. Are you okay? Did I—did I hurt you?”

His head lifts at my words, his molten gold eyes locking onto mine with a force that steals the air from my lungs.

Despite the tremors wracking his powerful frame, despite the tension coiling through every muscle in his body, his touch, when it comes, is exquisitely gentle.