I hadn’t said anything. What could I even say? Sorry I dry-humped you all night like a sleep-deprived dog in heat?

Instead, I’d muttered something about needing water and bolted for the gourd.

And now here we are, hours later, trekking through the desert while I try to ignore the fact that my panties are still damp, my skin feels like it’s on fire, and every time Rok so much as glances in my direction, I feel a pulse between my legs that makes me want to scream.

It’s like a fever, but not the kind that comes with chills and body aches. This is something else entirely. My skin feels too tight, like there’s energy trapped beneath the surface, begging for release. My thoughts are a mess, spiraling back again and again to the way he tasted, the way he looked at me last night, the way his body had felt against mine.

I need something.

Water. Food. Anything to ease this restless, gnawing ache taking over my body. Every time I’ve ingested something from this planet—its water, its strange, bitter foods—it’s soothed the mystery ailments that have plagued me since I woke up here. Maybe this is the same. Maybe I just need to drink or eat something to feel normal again.

But as my gaze drops to the impressive tent beneath Rok’s loincloth, another thought flickers in my mind. A memory.

The taste of him. Sweet and warm, like honey—but richer. And before I can stop myself, I wonder: Does he count as part of the menu?

The moment the thought crosses my mind, a pulse of heat flares low in my belly. My thighs clench, almost causing me to stumble, a fresh wave of need making my breath hitch. I force my gaze away, ashamed of the direction my thoughts have taken, but it’s too late.

The memory of his taste lingers. It’s maddening, and I can’t shake the idea that maybe—just maybe—what I need isn’t water or food at all.

This planet is messing with me. That’s the only explanation. It has to be something I ate or drank, some chemical reaction that’s turning me into a horny, insatiable mess.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but it’s no use. The heat, the tension, the constant ache between my legs—it’s all-consuming, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

And then Rok stops.

I nearly run into him, too busy berating myself for my inappropriate thoughts to notice his sudden stillness. He sniffs the air, his nostrils flaring, and a low growl rumbles in his chest.

My heart skips a beat, and for a brief, mortifying moment, I wonder if he can smell me. The heat pooling between my thighs, the tension thrumming under my skin—can he sense it?

But then I notice the way his shoulders tense. The way he’s not focused on me.

It’s not me.

It’s something else.

Danger.

I don’t dare say a word. I don’t even breathe too loudly as I watch him scan the horizon, his golden eyes narrowing to slits.

The next, his hand shoots out, grabbing my arm so tightly I nearly yelp.

“Rok—” I start, but he’s already moving, tugging me forward, his pace relentless.

I stumble after him, my pulse spiking as I try to keep up with his long strides. His head is tilted slightly, his nostrils flaring as he sniffs the air. A low, guttural growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and the sound is enough to make my stomach drop.

“What is it?” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

He doesn’t answer. His grip tightens on my arm, and without warning, he takes off at a dead sprint, dragging me with him.

My shoes slip and skid in the loose sand as we weave through the jagged rock formations. My heart pounds in my chest, adrenaline surging as I hear it—a sound behind us.

Like a whisper at first, soft and eerie. But then it grows louder, a low, rumbling hiss that sends a shiver down my spine.

I glance over my shoulder and nearly keel over.

The sand is moving.

It shifts and churns like a living thing, a massive wave rolling toward us like it was water and not tiny specks of rock.

“Oh my God,” I breathe, my legs suddenly feeling like jelly.

Rok yanks me forward, his claws digging gently into my arm to keep me upright while forcing me to run.

I don’t need to be urged twice.

We dart through the rocks, the path twisting and turning in a way that makes my head spin. The sound behind us grows louder, closer, and I can feel the vibrations in the ground beneath my feet. My breaths come hard and fast, my lungs burning, my legs screaming in protest, but I don’t stop.

Rok leads me with single-minded purpose, his movements quick as he pulls me deeper into the maze of stone.

The sand wave surges higher, nearly licking at our heels. I stumble on a hidden rock, my ankle twisting, and I let out a cry of pain. Before I can even register what’s happening, Rok scoops me up against his chest and continues running, his pace barely slowing under my weight.

Ahead, the rock formations grow denser, creating a natural barrier against the advancing sand. I close my eyes, praying hard that we make it. There are many ways I’ve imagined dying since waking up on this planet. This wasn’t one of them.

Finally, the rumbling grows fainter as the rocks force the sand to split and flow around rather than through. The terror doesn’t leave. Instead, it remains in my veins.

When I glance up at Rok, his gaze meets mine, and he leans in for a brief moment, pressing his forehead to mine.

“Safe soon,” he projects into my mind.

I cling to him, watching over his shoulder as the wave of sand crashes against the rocks behind us, spraying fine particles into the air. For a moment, I think we’ve escaped.

Then I see it—a thin tendril of sand, weaving through the rocks like a sentient thing, following our path with unnerving precision.

“Rok,” I whisper, tightening my grip on him. “It’s still coming.”

He doesn’t look back, just increases his pace, his muscles bunching and releasing with each powerful stride. The landscape blurs around us as he races through a series of increasingly narrow passages, taking turns that seem random but must be calculated.

Finally, we reach the entrance of a cave. Rok practically shoves me inside, his massive body blocking the opening, as he turns to face the desert.

I collapse against the wall, my chest heaving as I struggle to catch my breath. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst.

Rok remains completely still, his shoulders rising and falling as he scans the sand. His claws flex at his sides, his posture tense, ready for a fight.

I watch him in silence, my mind racing.

I’d be dead without him. The thought pounds in time with my heartbeat as I press my back against the cool stone wall of the cave, struggling to catch my breath.

Not just this time—but every time.

The shadow creatures. The rival clan. The unrelenting heat of this brutal planet.

I’d be dead a dozen times over if it weren’t for Rok.

I can still feel his grip on my arm, the way his claws held me firm but never hurt me as he pulled me through the labyrinth of jagged rock formations. The way his body had shielded me as that thing in the sand chased us, relentless and terrifying.

He saved me. Again.

And now, I watch him as he crouches at the mouth of the cave, his golden eyes scanning, his massive body coiled with tension. He looks like a warrior carved from stone, every muscle prepared to strike, his claws flexing slightly as he listens for any sign of pursuit.

I should be looking out too, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him.

My heart pounds for an entirely different reason now.

The longer I watch him, the more my chest tightens, the more my breath comes faster. Gratitude swells inside me, so big and overwhelming it almost hurts. But it’s not just gratitude. It’s something deeper. Hotter.

He turns to face me, his sharp features softening just slightly as his gaze sweeps over me, checking for injuries.