Behind them, the cave mouth had disappeared around a bend in the trail. The samples were secured in Alina’s pack—carefully wrapped specimens of moss and vine, seeds and soil, preserved evidence of the miracle they’d discovered together. Evidence that would change everything, if they could find the right people to share it with.
If they survived long enough to try.
The wind shifted, carrying with it the faint chemical tang of the processing facilities that dotted the planet’s surface. Civilization. Safety. Danger. The words twisted together in his mind, impossible to separate. What was safety for Alina might be death for him. What was freedom for him might cost her everything she’d worked for.
With Martin gone, will she want to stay?
The thought had been circling since they’d left the ledge, since he’d watched her face as the bodies fell and seen something shift behind her eyes. Not horror—he’d expected horror—but something colder, more pragmatic. Acceptance, perhaps. Or resignation.
She’d chosen him. Chosen him over her colleague, her career, her comfortable certainties about right and wrong. But choices made in moments of crisis didn’t always survive the return to ordinary life. Once the immediate danger passed, once she had time to think, to process, to consider the magnitude of what she’d sacrificed…
Would she still want him?
The path widened slightly, opening onto a flat stretch of weathered stone that offered a brief respite from the climb. Rhyx paused, scanning the terrain ahead while Alina caught her breath beside him. Her face was flushed from exertion, a thin sheen of sweat visible at her temples despite the cold.
“Are you well?”
“Fine.” She managed a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just thinking.”
“About what happened?”
“About what happens next.” She looked up at him, her brown eyes searching his face for something he couldn’t name. “Rhyx, I need to ask you something.”
“Ask.”
“After everything that’s happened today… Do you still want me to stay with you?”
The question hit him like a blow to the chest. For a moment he could only stare at her, struggling to comprehend how she could doubt—how she could imagine, even for a moment, that he would want anything else.
“You are my mate.” The words came out rougher than he intended, scraped raw by emotions he didn’t have language for. “I will always want you to stay.”
“Even if it means hiding? Running? Never being able to live openly?”
“Even then.”
She nodded slowly, something easing in her expression. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
They continued down the mountain, the silence between them lighter now, more companionable. The sun was beginning its slow descent towards the horizon, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose that reminded him of sunsets from another age—when the air had been thick enough to scatter light into brilliant colors, when the world had been alive with sounds and scents that existed now only in his fragmentary memories.
Home. This was home, once.
The thought brought with it a grief so vast he could barely contain it. He’d lost everything—his people, his world, his very identity—and been reborn into a Mars that was simultaneously familiar and utterly foreign. The mountains were the same, or near enough. The canyons still carved their ancient paths across the land. But the life that had once filled every corner of this world was gone, reduced to fossilized whispers and the impossible miracle of a single cave.
And yet.
He had Alina. He had purpose. He had the strange, unexpected gift of a second chance at existence, even if that existence was shadowed by danger and uncertainty.
It would have to be enough.
The path curved around a massive outcropping of iron-rich stone, its surface streaked with the dark red veins that humans called hematite. Beyond it, the terrain leveled out into a shallow valley where the familiar shape of Jeb and Mattie’s habitat dome squatted against the landscape like a metal seed waiting to sprout.
Rhyx felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders at the sight. Whatever else was uncertain, he trusted the big cyborg and his human mate. They’d offered shelter without demanding explanations, assistance without expecting payment. In a world where everyone seemed to want something from him, their simple kindness stood out like a beacon.
“Almost there.” Alina’s voice was tired but relieved. “We should be able to see the claim markers in another few minutes.”
“I know.” He could feel the vibrations of their approach through the ground—the subtle hum of the habitat’s life support systems,the deeper thrum of the mining equipment that sat idle near the dome’s entrance. “Someone is outside. Two people.”
“Jeb and Mattie?”
