I followed, and found myself in a space just large enough for both of us to lie down. The ground was covered in soft moss, and the air smelled of earth and growing things. Through gaps in the foliage, I could see the distant glow of the shuttle's lights, but we were completely hidden.
It was as safe as we were going to get.
Serna settled against the far wall of the alcove, and I positioned myself near the entrance, keeping watch. The jungle around us was alive with sound—insects, night birds, the occasional rustle of something moving through the underbrush. But nothing that sounded like pursuit.
"We should rest," Serna said quietly. "Take turns keeping watch."
"You first," I said. "I'll wake you in a few hours."
She didn't argue, which told me how exhausted she was. She closed her eyes, and within minutes, her breathing had evened out into the rhythm of sleep.
I sat there in the darkness, watching the distant lights, listening to the jungle, and thinking about tomorrow. About what we were about to attempt. About all the ways it could go wrong.
About how much I had to lose now.
I'd lost Catherine to cancer, and that had nearly destroyed me. But this—losing Serna—would be something else entirely. Because what I felt for her went beyond love, beyond desire. It was recognition. Like my soul had been searching for hers across the vastness of space and time, and had finally found its home.
Hours passed. The jungle sounds shifted as different creatures took over the night. The lights around the shuttle remained constant, and I saw the guards change shifts once, two new figures replacing the original pair. The search party did not return, which I couldn't decide would hinder or help our mission.
When I judged it was around midnight, I gently shook Serna awake.
"Your turn," I whispered.
She sat up immediately, alert despite having been asleep moments before. "Anything?"
"Guard change about an hour ago. Search parties still haven't returned. Otherwise quiet."
She nodded and took up position near the entrance while I settled back against the moss-covered wall. But sleep didn't come easily. My mind kept running through scenarios, calculating odds, trying to find a way to keep Serna safe even as we walked into danger together.
Eventually, exhaustion won out, and I drifted into an uneasy sleep.
I woke to Serna's hand on my shoulder and the faint gray light of pre-dawn filtering through the foliage.
"It's almost time," she said softly. "Only the two guards on duty and the search party still hasn't returned."
I sat up, working the stiffness out of my shoulders.
"Ready?" Serna asked.
I looked at her—this incredible woman who'd somehow become everything to me—and felt that pull in my chest again. That sense of rightness and connection that I couldn't quite name.
"Ready," I said.
But before we could move, Serna reached out and pulled me close, kissing me with an intensity that stole my breath. When she pulled back, her eyes were fierce.
"Whatever happens," she said, "I need you to know—"
"I know," I interrupted gently. "I know, Serna. I feel it too."
She nodded, and I saw relief in her expression. Then she turned toward the entrance, her body shifting into warrior mode, and I followed her lead.
But we didn't move toward the shuttle.
Because as we started to emerge from our hiding place, Serna suddenly froze. Her hand shot out, stopping me, and she tilted her head in that way that meant she'd heard something.
I listened, straining my ears, and then I heard it too—voices. Close. Too close.
"—should be around here somewhere," someone was saying in heavily accented Standard. "The tracks led this direction."
