He was different. He would always be different. But perhaps, in the right place, with the right people, different didn’t have to mean alone.
“The samples,” he said, looking up at Alina. “What will you do with them?”
“Distribute them.” Her voice was firm. “To researchers I trust, at facilities that aren’t controlled by GenCon. It’ll take time to set up—I need to be careful about who I contact and how—but once the knowledge is out there, they can’t suppress it. Can’t claim it. Can’t profit from it at the expense of everyone else.”
“And us?”
“We disappear.” She squeezed his hand, her grip tight enough to ground him. “Change our names, find a new home, build a new life. Together.”
Together.
The word settled into his chest like warmth, like hope, like the first breath of spring after an endless winter. He’d spent millennia alone, lost in the dark space between life and death, waiting for something he couldn’t name. And now that something was sitting in front of him, small and fierce and so impossibly brave, asking him to trust her with his future.
“Yes,” he said, and the word felt like a promise. “Together.”
Jeb cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “We should start making arrangements. I have contacts in the outer territories who can help with transport, documentation. But it’ll take a few days to set up, and you’ll need to stay hidden until then.”
“The cave?”
“Too risky. GenCon will be searching the mountains once they realize Martin’s missing.” He shook his head. “No, you’ll stay here. The claim is registered to Mattie, and we’ve got enough supplies to last a week or more. No one will think to look for you this close to Border Town.”
“What about you?” Alina’s brow furrowed. “If anyone finds out you helped us?—”
“Let me worry about that.” Jeb’s voice was firm but not unkind. “I’ve been running from GenCon’s long arm for years. This isn’t my first time dancing with them, and it won’t be my last.”
Mattie moved to stand beside her mate, her small hand resting on his cybernetic arm. “We want to help. After everything you’ve done—finding the cave, proving that Mars can sustain life again—it’s the least we can do.”
“You don’t owe us anything.”
“Maybe not.” Mattie smiled. “But that’s not why we’re doing it.”
Rhyx watched the exchange, something loosening in his chest that he hadn’t realized was tight. He’d been alone for so long, even before the long sleep—a warrior without a war, a protector without anyone to protect. But here, in this cramped little dome on the edge of human civilization, he was beginning to understand something that had eluded him for millennia.
Strength wasn’t about standing alone against the darkness. It was about finding people worth standing beside. Worth fighting for. Worth trusting with the soft, vulnerable places that made existence meaningful.
He had that now. A mate. Friends. A future that stretched out before him like an unexplored horizon, full of dangers and possibilities in equal measure.
It was terrifying.
It was wonderful.
He looked at Alina, at the determined set of her jaw and the quiet courage in her eyes, and felt something shift in the place where his heart beat with borrowed blood and ancient longing.
Mine, he thought. My mate. My future. My home.
The word felt different now than it had in the memories that still haunted his dreams. Home wasn’t a place, not anymore. It was a person. A choice. A promise to face whatever came together, no matter how dark the road ahead.
“When do we leave?” he asked.
Jeb’s smile was grim but genuine. “Soon as I can arrange transport. Three days, maybe four. Think you can stay hidden that long?”
Rhyx looked at Alina. She looked back at him, her eyes full of everything they’d been through and everything that still lay ahead.
“Yes,” they said together.
And despite everything—the danger, the uncertainty, the knowledge that they were about to leave behind everythingfamiliar and venture into the unknown—Rhyx felt something very close to peace.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
