But for now, in this moment, sheltered in a cave with an alien warrior who’s somehow become my protector, I feel something I’ve felt since only being in his presence.

I feel safe.

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Chapter 35

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EXPLAINING HUMANS: MORE DIFFICULT THAN HUNTING SAND SERPENTS

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ROK

The first light of Ain has barely touched the sky when Tharn appears at the entrance of my chamber.

It is unusual. Tharn does not come to rouse me—not since we were younglings. He knows I wake before the light, my senses sharp and ever-watchful. Yet here he is, his broad form casting a shadow in the dim morning light, his golden eyes narrowed with curiosity.

I do not need to ask why. I know.

Jus-teen rests beside me, her small form curled in the pile of hides. Her pale skin glows faintly in the soft light creeping into the chamber, her loose mane spilling across the bedding like threads of Ain’s own radiance. She is extraordinary. Even now, I can feel Tharn’s mind brushing against mine, full of questions he does not yet push into my mindspace.

“She still rests,” Tharn projects, his mental tone laced with amusement.

“She needs rest,” I reply, my voice equally soft in his mind.

Tharn tilts his head, his focus shifting to her with unhidden curiosity. “I have never seen one rest so deeply. Does she not sense the light or the movement?”

“She is not Drakav,” I remind him, annoyance flickering through my thoughts. “Her body does not respond as ours do.”

I can sense he understands, but he still does not leave. Instead, he steps farther into the chamber, his gaze lingering on Jus-teen. I feel a low growl building in my chest, but I suppress it. Tharn means no harm. He is curious, as are all my brothers. They have never seen a female before, let alone one like her.

But she is mine.

Tharn stands at the entrance, his gaze lingering on her sleeping form. His curiosity is palpable, brushing against my mind like a persistent question waiting for an answer.

“She is unlike anything I have seen,” Tharn projects, his tone cautious but probing. “Even her breathing is strange. Soft…uneven.”

I grunt, unwilling to feed his curiosity. Jus-teen’s breaths are soft, light, and melodic in a way I have come to find soothing. I watch her chest rise and fall, the faint warmth of her body radiating through the bedding.

“She is delicate,” Tharn continues, tilting his head. “Not like us. Will she endure the journey to the Silent Valley?”

“She will,” I say firmly. “She is stronger than she looks.”

Tharn does not respond. Instead, he steps closer, his golden eyes narrowing as he studies her.

“What are you doing, Tharn?” I project a low growl, my brows tightening.

He glances at me, unperturbed. “Her skin changes color often. I have seen it. Is it…danger?”

“No,” I reply. “It is her way.”

Her flushed skin, her strange reactions—they are all part of her. At first, they puzzled me. Now, I find I look forward to them. They are signs of her emotions, her thoughts, and I notice them even when she tries to hide them.

“Strange,” Tharn muses, stepping back. “But then, all of this is strange.”

Before I can respond, Justine stirs. Her brow furrows slightly, and she shifts in the bedding, her hand reaching up to rub at her face. Her eyelids flutter open, and she blinks, her gaze finding mine almost immediately.

“Is it morning already?” she mumbles those words I cannot understand, the thoughts following her meaning shortly after.

Tharn flinches at the sound, his claws twitching at his sides as if preparing for an attack. His thoughts are sharp, unguarded: What is this? What is she doing?

I suppress a smirk, leaning closer to Jus-teen. “You are loud, light-bringer,” I project gently into her mind.

She blinks, realization dawning as she sits up straighter, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Sorry,” she thinks, her mental voice softer now. She turns to Tharn, offering him a small smile. “Good morning, Tharn.”

Surprise flickers across Tharn’s features—not just at her greeting, but at her casual use of his name, as if they are long-acquainted. Few address him so directly outside of Kol and me.

His thoughts ripple with confusion. “What were those sounds she made?”

“She vocalizes,” I explain, the word forming clumsily in my mind. “It is her way of communicating.”

Tharn tilts his head, his gaze flicking between her and me. “She speaks…with sound? Does it not disturb you?”

“No,” I reply without hesitation. “She has spoken aloud many times in my presence, her strange human sounds startling and unfamiliar. But now, I find I like them. Her voice is soft, melodic, even when she is frustrated or amused. It is like water running over smooth stones—gentle, soothing, and alive.”

“It is her way,” I add simply.

Tharn steps back slightly, his gaze fixed on Jus-teen as if she is a puzzle he cannot quite solve.

Jus-teen shifts under his scrutiny, and I feel a surge of protectiveness rise within me. “We leave soon,” I say, standing and moving to block Tharn’s view of her. “Prepare the others.”

Tharn hesitates, then inclines his head in the way we do, similar to Jus-teen’s chin jerk. “As you say, scout-leader.”

He lingers for a moment longer, his gaze flicking once more to Jus-teen before he turns and leaves the chamber.

Jus-teen exhales softly, her shoulders relaxing as the tension leaves the room. “He’s…intense,” she thinks, glancing at me.

“They are curious,” I explain, sitting beside her once more. “You are the first they have seen. The first they have heard.”

Her brow furrows. “I guess I’m going to have to get used to being the center of attention.”

“You will,” I assure her. “You are strong.”

She bares her teeth at me, the expression soft and warm. “Thanks, Rok,” she says aloud.

The sound of her voice tugs at something deep inside me, and I realize again how much I have come to treasure it. Her vocalizations are strange, yes, but they are hers. And everything about her—her voice, her scent, her thoughts—is precious to me.

I give her time to adjust before I take her to the cave’s main chamber where the others are waiting, all ready with extra waterskins and pouches of fire bloom leaves strapped to their sides. Even under my brothers’ annoying, but expected scrutiny, Jus-teen does not flinch. She eats quickly and soon we are ready. We leave the clan’s caves before long.

Ain is low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the dust as we set out. Jus-teen walks beside me, her pace slower than the rest of the group but steady. Ten of my brothers follow us, including Kol and Tharn, the others forced to stay and guard our territory.

The journey is uneventful at first; the landscape shifting from rolling dunes to jagged rock formations as we move steadily toward the Silent Valley. The air is cool, Ain’s heat not yet oppressive, and the silence is broken only by the rhythmic crunch of sand beneath our feet.

But uneventful does not mean easy.

Solmarks into our journey, the strain begins to weigh on Jus-teen. Her steps falter more frequently now, the muscles of her smaller frame ill-suited to the relentless pace of the Drakav. She lags behind, and though I slow my stride to match hers, it does not seem to be helping.

The Drakav are built for this terrain. Our legs are long, our stamina unmatched, and we are accustomed to the grueling conditions of the dust. But my Jus-teen… she is soft. The dust does not welcome her as it does us. Yet she presses on, her jaw tight, her gaze fixed determinedly on the horizon.