“The daughters of Ain were mighty beings,” Kol thinks, his mental voice dripping with skepticism. “Goddesses. This creature is small. Weak. It has no claws, no fangs.” He reaches toward my face with one massive hand. “Its skin is thin, soft⁠—”

Rok moves faster than I can track, his body suddenly between me and Kol’s outstretched hand. He doesn’t growl or bare his teeth, but his stance is unmistakably defensive.

“She is under my protection,” Rok states, the thought carrying such force that I see several of the surrounding males flinch.

Instead of anger at this challenge, something like curiosity flickers across Kol’s hard features. He withdraws his hand slowly, his gaze moving between Rok and me with fresh interest.

“You have changed, dust-son,” he observes. “Your bearing. Your stance.” His gaze drops pointedly to Rok’s loincloth. “Your covering.”

Several of the clan members shift closer, heads tilting in that now-familiar gesture of curiosity. I realize they’re all noticing what Tharn had pointed out—the physical evidence of Rok’s new anatomy, hidden beneath the crude garment I’d made for him.

“I have changed,” Rok acknowledges simply. “She has changed me.”

The admission sends another wave of mental murmurs through the gathered clan. I catch fragments of their thoughts—disbelief, fascination, jealousy, fear.

“—cannot be female⁠—”

“—look how he guards it⁠—”

“—never seen a male cover his pouch⁠—”

“—what if it is true? What if⁠—”

“—this strange male has many soft parts.”

A lean Drakav pushes forward suddenly. “Let me see this creature,” he demands, reaching for my arm.

Rok’s response is immediate and terrifying. His body transforms before my eyes—muscles bunching, spine arching, a sound emerging from his throat that seems to vibrate the very air around us. It’s not just a growl; it’s a warning that transcends language, primal and absolute.

The male freezes, then slowly backs away, head lowered in submission.

“Enough,” Kol commands, his mental voice cutting through the tension like a blade. His gaze shifts to Tharn. “What do you think of this creature⁠—”

“Jus-teen,” Rok corrects, his stance still rigid with protective fury.

Tharn straightens under Kol’s attention, his amber eyes flicking briefly to me before returning to his leader’s face. There’s a moment of hesitation, then his thoughts project clearly through the gathering.

“I trust Rok’s judgment,” he states firmly. “If he says this one is female, then I believe him. Rok has never led the clan astray.”

The declaration seems to carry weight, rippling through the gathered males. I feel Rok’s surprise and appreciation beside me, though his protective stance doesn’t waver.

Kol considers Tharn’s words, his face unreadable. He takes so long to relay his judgment that I start to worry that he will turn me away. Finally, his voice booms in my mind. “Jus-teen,” he pauses, his chin tilting slightly as he looks at me down the bridge of his nose, “will not be harmed or touched without consent.”

For a moment, he simply stares at me, and I wish I could read his mind. Ha. I probably could, I just don’t know how.

“You claim others of your kind are stranded. Where?” he projects.

Relief floods me at this change of subject. “Um, they’re…” And then I realize I have no idea where they are. I don’t know the direction or anything. “Where our ship crashed. We were…separated. We…meant no harm coming here.”

“Ship…” Kol repeats thoughtfully. I feel him turn the thought over. Clearly, he has no idea what a ship is, and I’m not sure I should provide mental images to back up the word. “And how many of these…females…are stranded?”

“My sister,” I project immediately. “And several other women—uh, females. Humans, we call ourselves.”

“Humans,” he echoes. The word comes off with a strange lilt in his thoughts. “We will search for these humans at first light.”

My heart sinks. “First light? We need to go now. It’s been days—more than I can count. What if they’ve encountered predators like the ones that attacked me and Rok? What if they’re hurt or—” I cut myself off, unwilling to voice my deepest fear.

If it’s even possible, Kol’s expression hardens. “We do not travel when Ain does not bless us with her light. The creatures that hide from Ain’s gaze are the deadliest. They hunt in the dark.”

“But my sister—” I begin, desperation creeping into my voice.

“If your people stayed,” Rok interjects, his thoughts so gentle they almost make my bravado crack, “near where I found you, then no creatures would go there.”

But something in his tone makes a chill run down my spine. “Why not?”

I sense a ripple of unease pass through the gathered clan. Glances are exchanged. Bodies shift restlessly.

“They are in the Silent Valley.” Rok’s eyes search mine and I know there’s more.

“Silent Valley?” I repeat. “Why do you call it that?”

“Silent Valley,” Kol’s voice booms in my head. “Where danger sleeps.”

A heavy silence falls. Even the mental whispers cease, leaving an eerie quiet that seems to press against my eardrums.

It’s Tharn who finally speaks, well, mind-talks. Mind-speaks? His thoughts carry a reverence far from how he sounded before. “The creature that lives there rests.”

The words hang in the air, pregnant with meaning I can’t fully grasp. Before I can ask for clarification, Kol turns to address the clan.

“Prepare for a journey at first light,” he commands. “We seek the human females.” His gaze returns to me. “Tonight, you will rest and tell us of your world beyond the stars…daughter of Ain.”

Oh…shit.

The gathered males disperse at his command, though many cast lingering glances my way as they return to their cave dwellings. Only a few remain—Kol, Tharn, and three others whose names I don’t yet know.

“Come,” Kol directs, turning toward the largest cave opening. “You will share meal-offering with the clan.”

As Rok guides me forward, his arm still protectively around my shoulders, I can’t shake the ominous feeling left by their words.

Silent Valley. Where the creature sleeps.

And my sister—my only family—is right in the middle of it.

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Chapter 34

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THIS IS FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE. I’M TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH AN ALIEN

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JUSTINE

Hours later, I sit cross-legged beside a fire pit in the main cave dwelling. A fire, it seems, lit solely for my purpose as these Drakav don’t appear to need its warmth. The dancing flames cast shifting shadows across the stone walls and the heat feels wonderful against my skin with the cold of the night creeping in. Despite the comfort of the fire, though, I can’t relax. The weight of too many eyes follows my every movement.

The cave is massive—at least thirty feet high at its center, with a natural chimney that draws the smoke upward. The space is surprisingly orderly, with distinct areas that seem designated for specific purposes. Stone platforms line the walls—sleeping places, I assume. Various implements hang from pegs driven into the rock—tools, weapons, containers made from materials I don’t recognize.

Kol sits across from me, his face illuminated by the firelight as he watches me with unrelenting intensity. Rok hasn’t left my side since we arrived, his body a constant presence against mine, his hand frequently finding mine as if to reassure himself I’m still there.

The rest of the clan keeps a respectful distance, but their curiosity is palpable. Every few minutes, one approaches bearing some offering—a gourd of water, a portion of fresh meat, a strange fruit-like object with a hard shell. Each gift is presented with a careful glance at Rok, as if seeking permission to come near me.