by Tana Stone
Rukken closed his eyes and jerked his head up as he made a clicking noise in the back of his throat. It was impossible. Zatvar could not be the leader of the clan. Not after everything he’d done. Not after his treachery. What had happened to K’alron, and how was K’alron’s mate now Zatvar’s?
His head spun with questions and he rubbed his temples as it began to pound. Zatvar leading the Dothveks? Zatvar taking the clan leader’s mate for himself? Zatvar becoming leader over K’alvek, the rightful heir to the position? What had happened while he had been in exile?
Clearly, K’alron was dead. His heart ached for the ruler he’d known. It had been K’alron who had refused to impose the punishment of death on him when all the other elders demanded it. It had been K’alron who had shown him mercy, although he could debate how much of a mercy death would have been compared to exile. He remembered the look of fury on Zatvar’s face when K’alron had commuted the sentence of death and sent him away. Had Zatvar gotten his revenge on the clan leader by killing him, too?
Rukken remembered all too well the look of vengeful lust on Zatvar’s face when he’d come upon the warrior during a hunt. He’d been standing over another Dothvek—a warrior he’d always battled against and come up lacking—with his blade dripping blood. Before Rukken could raise the alarm, Zatvar had slashed at himself with his own blade and then quickly disarmed him, switching weapons and leaving him holding the bloody blade and standing over two injured warriors when the other Dothevks arrived.
Zatvar had always been able to mask his mind well. His talents at subterfuge had always been greater than his battle skills. And now he had managed to trick the entire clan into believing he was worthy of leading. All except K’alvek, apparently. That came as no surprise. K’alvek had always been as shrewd as he was fierce. But he did not know everything. He did not know the truth about Zatvar. No one knew how ruthless the Dothvek could be.
Rukken heard her voice over the rushing of blood in his ears. “Are you okay? You aren’t stroking out on me, are you? Because there’s no way I can go for help.”
He opened his eyes and focused on Caro, even as his temples throbbed. She’d moved so that she was kneeling in front of him, and her hands were resting on his knees. “I am not unwell, but I am distressed to hear that Zatvar is now the clan leader.”
“I can see that, but how does that affect your life out here? You didn’t even know he was in charge.”
She was right about that. He had no way of knowing how long Zatvar had been leading the clan, but she was wrong that it didn’t change things. Knowing how dangerous Zatvar was, there was no way he could ever let Caro return to the village. Not with Zatvar in power. Rukken would die before he let that dishonorable warrior ever hold any authority over his mate again.
Eight
Caro watched as Rukken stormed around the camp most of the day. He’d been increasingly agitated since learning that Zatvar was the Dothvek leader. She understood his feelings to some extent. If this was the guy who’d set him up and caused him to be exiled, hearing he’d risen to become the clan leader probably didn’t sit well.
She’d made a point to avoid asking him any more questions, because talking about it definitely didn’t calm him down. The more he thought and talked about Zatvar, the angrier he became. Caro wasn’t scared of him—at least, she hadn’t been before—but his temper made her nervous. As did the way he looked at her, furtive glances that held so much desire and possessiveness they made her heart pound and her mouth go dry.
Was he delusional? Had he been alone on the sands for so long that he’d lost his grip on reality? Did he really think this clan leader was a threat to him, or to her? From the way he muttered to himself, uttering dark curses under his breath, she thought he must. Of course, that wasn’t good news for her.
“Great,” she said to herself, when he’d stalked off to fill a jug with water. “I’ve been kidnapped by a criminal who’s potentially crazy.”
When the suns slid low on the horizon, Rukken threaded more meat on his skewers, and Caro made a point of not groaning out loud. This time, she would eat the weird snake meat without protest. She did not want him to feel compelled to force-feed her again. Being held by him and having morsels of food hand-fed by to her was an unsettling feeling she’d rather not repeat.
He cocked an eyebrow when she took the skewer from him without complaint, and Caro could have sworn he looked disappointed.
“You wanted me to fight you about eating?” she asked, taking a bite of the chewy, bland meat.
“No,” he said, but his tone was as defensive as a child who’d gotten caught doing something naughty.
She would have laughed, if the situation wasn’t so absurd. Her abductor was now upset that she wasn’t fighting back.
He’d been right about one thing. She needed her strength, and as much as she disliked sand serpent meat, it would give her enough energy to escape.
They ate in silence, which felt torturous after a while. Caro was used to a crew of women, which meant that there was rarely a shortage of conversation. She didn’t want him to think she’d forgiven him, but she couldn’t eat without talking.
“So how often do you have to hunt or scavenge?”
He peered up, his brows pressed together. “Why? You wish to come?”
She hadn’t thought about it, but it could be interesting, and it would give her a sense of where she was. She shrugged, trying not to appear too eager. “Maybe. Danica’s guy taught her some Dothvek things like how to hunt in the sand.”
“Danica?”
“My captain.” Caro’s chest swelled, and she couldn’t help grinning when she thought about her friend. “She’s an amazing boss, and she’s really good at seeing the potential in people. Not everyone would have taken a chance on me, or Tori, or any of us. We’re kind of a crew of oddballs and outcasts.” She clamped her mouth closed when she realized she was prattling on and giving the alien way too much information.
He angled his head at her. “Odd ball?”
“An expression,” she said. “It means we don’t fit in most places.”
“And you are one of these balls?”
Ugh. Why had she insisted on talking? Why did she always talk too much? She twitched one shoulder up. “You could say that. Crews weren’t exactly lining up to hire me.”
He stared at her, but didn’t respond.
“Not every ship hires former rebels.” She knew he wouldn’t know what any of this meant, but she had a strange compulsion to explain anyway.
Shut up, Caro.
His mouth quirked up, but he nodded, as if he understood.
She handed him back the skewer—noticing that he’d blunted the ends of the sharp sticks since that morning—then she stood and stretched her arms up over her head. She gave an exaggerated yawn. “Well, I’m going to bed.”
He looked up from where he sat, crouched on the other side of the fire. “I will guard you.”
Great. Just what she didn’t want—a security detail posted outside the tent.
“Don’t you sleep?” she asked.
His gaze held hers. “I do not need much sleep.”
Despite his claim, she noticed that his eyelids looked droopy. He probably hadn’t slept much the night before when he’d taken her, especially since it appeared that he’d watched her until she woke. No one could go forever without sleep. She’d just have to bide her time until he dropped off.
She gave another yawn, watching him stifle a reflexive yawn of his own. “Suit yourself.”
Pushing through the tent flaps, Caro flopped down on the assortment of rugs and animal skins that formed a makeshift bed to one side of the tent. It hadn’t escaped her notice that there was only one such bed. It was wide—enough for two people—but only if the people lay close together. She didn’t want to think about a time where Rukken might want to join her in the bed.
You’ll be long gone before that happens, she reminded herself, as she rolled over and looked at the peaked
ceiling of the single-pole tent. The suns had gone down, but the three moons were not bright overhead yet, so the tent was dark. The only sounds coming from the narrow slit in the tent flaps were the crackling of the fire, and the occasional shuffle of Rukken’s feet in the sand.
The stress and exhaustion of the day washed over her, but she fought to stay awake. After seeing how the exiled Dothvek had reacted earlier, she knew she couldn’t stay with him any longer. He wasn’t stable, and although she knew in her gut he wouldn’t hurt her, she also knew that he’d been alone with his rage and resentment long enough that he’d lost his grip on reality.
Caro pinched her arm hard as her eyelids grew heavier. Stay awake. You have to stay awake.
The sharp pain made her eyes water, but within minutes, her eyes were almost closed again. She shook her head and sat up, seeing moonlight spilling through the narrow opening between the tent flaps. The fire still crackled, but she realized she hadn’t heard Rukken move in a while.
She held her breath and crept to the entrance of the tent, holding her ear to the crack and hoping he hadn’t heard her movements. No matter how quiet she was, she knew Dothveks were stealthier, and also better at detecting slight noises.
Heavy breathing made her heart leap. She parted the tent flaps ever so slightly and peered out. Yep. She was right. Rukken sat cross-legged with his elbows on his knees and his head propped in his hands, sleeping soundly.
He looked so peaceful and so worn out, that Caro almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
She pushed the flaps of the tent aside as silently as possible, tiptoeing outside and pausing. The hulking barbarian didn’t look so scary when he was asleep, despite his wild hair and heavy tattoos and massive muscles. If she was being honest, the alien was gorgeous, and she fought the urge to stroke a finger down the scruff of his cheek. She wanted to feel the buzz she got from his touch one more time, but she knew that was stupid.
Maybe if he hadn’t been exiled and hadn’t kidnapped her, things could have been different, she thought. If he’d been a regular Dothvek back at the village, maybe they’d have gotten together. Heat pulsed between her legs as she looked at his expanse of bare gold skin, and then her eyes dropped to the significant bulge between his open legs. She bit her lip to keep from groaning out loud.
Caro gave herself a mental shake and wished she could slap herself. What was wrong with her? He wasn’t a regular Dothvek, and she wasn’t supposed to be looking for an alien hookup, anyway. She was supposed to be escaping so she could get back to her friends and they could find a way off the planet, although sometimes she wondered if she was the only one on their crew still focused on that. She pushed those thoughts from her mind as she crept past him.
Sorry, she mouthed. He didn’t wake up, and she sped up her pace as she got farther away from the tent. Her bare feet sank into the sand as she slogged her way up a sand dune, but she made it to the top. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Rukken still slumped over beside the dwindling fire. The oasis and the single tent looked smaller from up there, and she felt a pang of sadness for him.
She pushed it away, reminding herself that he had kidnapped her, and turned away. She slid down the far side of the sand dune, and then Rukken and his lonely camp were gone. Glancing up at the three glowing orbs in the inky blue sky, she hoped she was going in the right direction. Her ability to navigate a ship was much more developed than her ability to navigate by celestial objects, but from the position of the moons, she was relatively confident she was heading toward the Dothvek village.
Since her feet were not as wide and suited to traversing sand as Dothvek feet, climbing up and down dunes was hard work, and soon her legs burned from the exertion. She had no idea how long she’d been trudging along, but it seemed like hours.
“I should have brought water,” she muttered to herself. If she was being honest, she hadn’t planned her escape very well, at all. No water, no shield for the suns when they rose again, and no food. How had she thought she’d be able to make it back in one night? She hadn’t really been thinking of much, except getting away.
She would have kicked herself, if her legs weren’t so damn sore. Danica was their planner—the one who thought through their missions. She was the pilot—in charge of fast escapes, which is exactly what she’d done. Executed a fast escape. Right into a huge fucking desert.
She tried to swallow, but her throat was so dry it was difficult. “Just keep going. The girls are probably already out looking for you. If you just keep moving, they’ll find you.”
Caro only hoped it would be before she died of exhaustion or thirst. She slid down another dune, the cool air blowing on her face. When she reached the bottom, she stood and immediately began to sink.
“What the hell?” She glanced around desperately as she went waist-deep in the sand, which had become thick and soupy. She tried to move, but every movement seemed to pull her deeper. So much for dying of thirst or exhaustion. She was going to drown in quicksand first.
Nine
Rukken jerked awake when his elbow slipped on his knee, the sudden motion making him lurch forward and then straighten quickly. He blinked hard as he looked around him at the smoldering remains of the fire and the stillness of the night. How long had he been asleep?
He rubbed his face, feeling the weariness that still threatened to drag him back into slumber. He clearly needed to rest, or he’d be useless in the morning. Caro would be awake then, and would need his watchful gaze.
Standing, he moved as quietly as he could toward the tent, pushing open the flaps and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness inside. There was no noise, not even the soft breathing of the female, and he pulled back the flaps wider to let in the moonlight and get a better look at the inside. When the soft glow of the moons fell upon the empty rugs, he froze. She was gone.
Dropping the flaps, he spun around, his eyes wildly scanning the sands. She wasn’t within sight, and he had no idea how long she’d been gone.
He cursed himself for falling asleep. How could he have been so careless? How could he let himself be lulled by her seeming change of heart? Her willingness to eat was not a sign she’d been warming to him and accepting her situation. It had been a ploy, and he’d fallen for it.
Rukken steadied his own breath, trying to listen for any sounds of movement. If she was near, he’d be able to hear her. Nothing. She must have had a significant head start. He clenched his fists. It was nothing he couldn’t quickly overcome.
The female wasn’t Dothvek. She was tiny, with small feet that were not made for moving across the sands easily. And she did not know the sands like he did. His stomach tightened as he thought about all the dangers of his world she did not understand.
Rukken studied the sands near the fire, finding a faint trace of a path leading away and up one of the nearby dunes. It was almost imperceptible, a thin line in the sand the only indication someone had moved through it recently. But it was enough for him to know.
He ran easily up the dune, pausing at the top and squinting down the steep slope. When he could make out the sliver in the sand, he slid down, and then followed the trail up another steep hill.
As he ran, his fear and frustration grew. What had she been thinking, running away from him in the middle of the night? Did she really think she could make it back to the Dothvek village on her own?
He glanced up at the moons and realized that he was moving in the direction of the village. So, she was going in the right direction. He tried not to be impressed by that. Maybe the human wasn’t as clueless as he thought.
He growled low, reminding himself that he was angry at her. She’d put herself in danger by leaving the camp. Anything could happen to her out on the sands at night. He was lucky he hadn’t encountered any of the nocturnal sand creatures. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her.
It was his fault for falling asleep, he thought, although never sleeping again wasn’t exactly an option. He’d been a fool to think she woul
d adapt to life with him so quickly, and he’d been flattering himself to think she felt enough for him to want to stay.
As if she would willingly stay with you, a small, cruel voice whispered in the back of his head. As if you deserve something as perfect as her.
Sliding down another long slope, he landed at the bottom and paused to locate the trail. That was when he heard it. A tiny yelp muffled by at least one more dune. Then a scream.
Ice slid through his veins. She was in trouble.
Rukken raced up the steep mountain of sand, skidding down the other side in a crouch with one leg extended in front of him. Zeroing in on the faint trail, he bolted up the next dune, and his breath caught in his throat as he looked down.
Caro was at the bottom of the dune, sinking into what he recognized as lightning sand. The patch of loose sand was darker than that surrounding it, but otherwise was almost impossible to detect. Which was why she’d probably stepped right into it without knowing. Her arms were stretched out to her sides and resting on the surface, and nearly her entire chest was submerged.
He slid down the sand peak, giving the deadly sand a wide berth. “Don’t move.”
Caro froze, glancing up at him and nodding. “Rukken—“
He held up a palm. “Don’t talk. I need to get you out.”
She bit her bottom lip, her fast breathing the only sound as he lay on his belly and appraised the size of the patch. Luckily, she’d fallen in near one edge instead of the middle. He scooted closer to her and extended his arm.
“Reach for me, but do it very slowly.”
She pivoted her body and stretched her hand so that her fingertips brushed his. Rukken slid himself closer, holding his torso rigid so it didn’t tip into the lightning sand. He clasped her hand and began pulling her out, scooting himself back a little at a time until he could drag her all the way onto the stable sand.
Caro let out a choked sob as she pushed herself onto her hands and knees. He helped her stand, brushing wet clumps of sand off her now-soaking clothes. Her legs were shaking, no doubt from running so far and from the fear of almost drowning.
