“Right. So he rebuilt your sleeping space,” Jacqui says, leaning against the cavern wall next to Justine. “He constructed a maximum-security panic room that only you can fit through, and left a perfectly smooth, hand-carved stone next to your bed. Do the math.”
I drop my hand to my side, curling my fingers tightly around the warm stone. The hard edges of the carved symbol press deeply into my skin.
“It’s a thank you gift,” I say stubbornly. “For the water filter work. A spiked bone cage and a rock.”
Justine reaches out and taps the top of my closed fist.
“Ask him what the symbol means,” Justine says quietly. “Or just accept it. Half the women here have a betting pool on how long it takes him to snap. My money is on sundown.”
My fingers clench so tightly around the black stone that the jagged edges threaten to cut my palm. My stomach does a frantic flip at the thought.
I turn on my heel and walk rapidly toward the water basins without saying another word.
I don’t ask Kol what the symbol means. I don’t ask Sorn. I definitely don’t ask Zan, who has explicitly been looking at me like I am a particularly annoying insect ever since I stood at their war council yesterday.
I corner Mikaela.
She is sitting quietly by the second water channel, sorting through the remaining bio-bandages we stripped from the crash. Sarven stands exactly three feet behind her, an immovable wall of bronze skin and claws. He watches the main cavern entrance with unblinking focus.
I hold the black stone out in the flat of my palm, making sure not to drop it.
“Mikaela,” I say, my voice pitching up in complete panic. “Please tell me what this means.”
Mikaela pauses her sorting. Her eyes dart from the stone, to me, and then immediately up to the high ledge across the cavern.
I follow her gaze. Kol is watching a hunting party return, but the hot line of his stare snaps directly to my location the exact second we look at him.
The fine hair on my arms stands up.
Sarven leans down, his face brushing the top of Mikaela’s head. I can tell he is projecting something into her mind, his jaw locked tight.
Mikaela’s face goes slack. She looks at the smooth black rock in my palm and swallows.
“Where did you get that?” she asks, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.
“It was next to the bone spikes currently barricading my bed.” I cross my arms to keep from fidgeting. “It’s not a paperweight.”
“It’stor-vakh,” Mikaela says. Her fingers hover over it, but she distinctly does not touch the stone.
“Huh?”
Mikaela takes a deep, stuttering breath. She traces the jagged symbol in the air with her finger. “There is no direct English equivalent. It means... mutual protector oath. It’s the absolutehighest form of trust in the clan structure. It says:I guard your back. You guard mine. I choose you as my equal in the dust.”
My stomach plummets. I am a junior IT project manager from Chicago who cries when the WiFi goes down. Why am I holding an alien blood-vow rock?
“That’s... not a marriage proposal,” I say. My voice sounds thin. Hollow. “Right?”
“It’s bigger than that,” Mikaela says, looking at me with horrifying sincerity. “Proposals can be declined.Tor-vakhis earned. You do not offer it unless the other person has already proven they are capable of holding your life.”
Sarven tilts his head. His golden eyes fix directly on me.
“Sarven says a dra-dam has never offered ator-vakhstone before,” Mikaela translates quietly. “To anyone. Ever.”
I stare at the small black stone. Across the vast room, the glowing heat of Kol’s unblinking stare burns directly into the back of my neck.
Mutual protector. My equal.I guard your back.
Oh my god. He thinks I’m incredibly competent. He thinks I’m his terrifying, equal partner in the dust because I read a map yesterday. I am barely surviving. Everything is confusing and terrifying and I am pretty sure I am going to die here.
