“Justine?” I whisper, my voice breaking on her name. “Is she alive?”

He doesn’t speak—can’t speak, maybe—but his head tilts slightly with a slight wince as he watches me. The gesture is so human, it steals my breath.

“You know where she is?”

No response.

My legs feel suddenly weak. I slide down the cave wall, eyes still fixed on the earring. After so long searching, waiting. Of alternating between hope and despair. Of imagining the worst…

The alien crouches again, still keeping his distance, and points in a direction over his shoulder. The message is clear: She’s that way. I can take you to her.

He reaches for something at his waist—some kind of pouch—and pulls out…is that a stomach? A dried animal bladder? It sloshes.

He extends it toward me carefully, like he’s offering treasure instead of what looks like a grotesque science experiment. Water, then. It has to be. Nothing else would make that sound.

I don’t care if it’s a camel’s recycled colon at this point. My fingers shake as I reach for it, the promise of liquid overriding every survival instinct screaming not to trust alien beverages. The moment coolness hits my lips, I’m gulping greedily, half-choking as it floods my parched throat.

The container smells faintly of herbs and something earthy, but the water itself tastes clean—better than the metallic tang of our emergency rations. When I finally come up for air, I’m lightheaded with relief.

When I hand it back, our fingers brush briefly. His entire body goes rigid as light erupts from the contact point, streaking up his arm toward his chest. He makes a sound like rocks grinding together—pained? Awed?—and stumbles back a step.

For three rapid heartbeats, we just stare at each other. His nostrils flare wide, and he inhales deeply, probably scenting me, his glowing eyes tracking every microexpression on my face. The intensity makes my skin prickle.

Something unreadable passes across his face.

I don’t wait for whatever silent conversation he wants to have. Scrambling to my feet, I point at the earring, then toward the desert. “Take me to her. Now.”

He moves faster than I can track, blocking the cave entrance with his massive body. When I try to push past, he doesn’t yield, his skin like a light show as he points at the dying light outside.

I follow his gesture. The last sliver of sun vanishes below the dunes, plunging the world into violet twilight. A distant screech echoes across the sands—something hungry and hunting.

Understanding dawns with a chill.

“It’s not safe,” I murmur, shoulders slumping.

He makes a low sound in his throat and gestures to the back of the cave. An offer, I guess. Not an order.

I should argue. Should demand answers. But my legs wobble beneath me, my vision spotting with exhaustion. I haven’t eaten anything proper in days. I’m tired. Hungry. Thirsty. For once, I listen to my body instead of my stubbornness.

As I slump against the cave wall, I find myself studying him—this alien being who’s appeared out of nowhere with my sister’s earring and water to share. Who somehow made light appear between us. Who wants to take me to Justine.

For the first time since I’d set out in this wasteland, hope warms me more effectively than any fire.

The desert holds twenty-seven ways to die. But as those golden eyes lock onto mine, I wonder—for the first time since I lost Justine—if it might also hold a way to survive.

OceanofPDF.com

✾✩☼✩✾

This concludes Rok’s Captive. If you have a minute, I’d love if you could leave a review. Reviews are a good indicator if I should continue a series or not

(˵⇀‿↼˵)

Ready for the next book in the series?

Tharn’s Hunt

You can order it here.

Can’t wait? Join my newsletter [HERE] for a hilarious bonus scene featuring Tharn’s existential crisis.

Or join the mailing list for New Release updates!

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AFTERWORD

✾✩☼✩✾

Dear Reader,

Well, hellooo. You made it.

First of all—thank you. The fact that you just spent hours wandering a death-desert with Justine, Rok, and a gang of feral creatures (shadowmaws and Drakav) means the world to me.

This book was born from three questions:

1 What if "enemies to lovers" but one of them is literally a glow-in-the-dark make-your-knees weak alien who’s never seen a human before?

2 How fast would I personally perish if stranded on an alien planet? (Spoiler: Before lunch.)

3 And what if the universe… uh…custom-designedthe perfect partner? (A custom-made D deserves its own fan club. I wonder what Jacqui will get :D)

Watching Justine and Rok crash into each other’s lives—her sarcasm vs. his silent intensity, her human weirdness vs. his "what is this tiny creature and why do I want to bite it" energy—has been an absolute blast. And we’re just getting started.

Because in Book 2:

Jacqui is done with this desert (and her new grumpy alien shadow, Tharn).

The Drakav are about to learn humans don’t follow "silent hunter" rules. (We will scream about our feelings.)

Someone’s getting stabbed. Probably. (It’s me. By my own outline.)

Want more?

• Don’t forget to join my newsletter [HERE] for a hilarious bonus scene featuring Tharn’s existential crisis.

• Follow me on social media. I am present on there. Pardon my introverted silence.

• Leave a review if you laughed, cried, or now side-eye deserts IRL. (Rok approves of territorial marking—but only in designated areas!! Like Justine’s pus— ahem)

Most of all—thank you for trusting me to drag you through the sand. The real treasure was the aliens we thirsted for along the way.

See you in the Silent Valley,

A.G.

OceanofPDF.com

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Sohut’s Protection

Ka’Cit’s Haven

The Restitution

Ajos

V’Alen

Akur