Chapter 13 #2
The frustration crested, overwhelming his ability to form words. With a snarl of pure, inarticulate rage, Rhyx spun and drove his fist into the cavern wall.
Stone cracked under the impact. The sound echoed through the chamber like thunder, bouncing off the distant walls and fading into silence.
Pain lanced up his arm—bright, sharp, real—and when he pulled his hand back, golden blood was dripping from his knuckles where the skin had split against the rock.
“Rhyx!” Alina was at his side instantly, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand towards the light. “What did you—oh, God, let me see—”
“I’m fine.” He tried to pull away, but she held fast with surprising strength.
“You’re bleeding. That’s not fine, that’s—” She stopped. Blinked. Leaned closer to examine his knuckles. “That’s… not possible.”
He looked down at his hand, expecting to see the damage from his foolish outburst. The pain was already fading, dulling to a distant ache, and as he watched—as they watched—the torn skin began to knit itself back together.
It happened faster than he could track. The golden blood, still wet and gleaming, seemed to absorb back into the wounds as the edges of torn flesh reached for each other, fusing seamlessly.
Within seconds, the only evidence of the injury was the smear of gold on his knuckles and the crack in the stone wall.
“That’s not possible,” Alina repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
She turned his hand over, examining it from every angle.
“Tissue regeneration at this rate—the cellular division alone would require—” She looked up at him, her expression shifting from shock to something more focused, more analytical.
“Rhyx, has this happened before? Have you healed like this before?”
He searched his fragmented memories, looking for anything that matched what he’d just witnessed. The before-time was hazy, uncertain, but he could recall injuries—falls from great heights, battles with rival males for territory, the normal wounds of a life lived in the wild.
“I don’t… think so. In the before, wounds healed. But not like this. Not so fast.”
“But you remember healing?”
“Slowly. Over time. The way…” He struggled to find the comparison. “The way plants grow. Not the way water falls.”
Alina’s grip on his wrist tightened. Her eyes had gone distant, her mind clearly working through implications he couldn’t follow.
“Regeneration at this speed,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Self-repairing tissue, rapid cellular division without apparent scarring or dysfunction… the only organisms I know of that can do this are—” Her breath caught.
“What?”
“Cyborgs.” She looked up at him, and there was something new in her expression—not fear, exactly, but something close to it.
“The nanite integration in their systems gives them enhanced healing. Not this fast, not quite, but close. Their blood carries microscopic machines that repair damage almost as quickly as it occurs.”
Rhyx felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cavern’s temperature. “You think I have machines in my blood?”
“I think…” Alina released his wrist and began to pace, her movements quick and agitated.
“When I first found you, I assumed you were something ancient. Something that had been dormant, waiting to be awakened. But the readings I was following—they weren’t just organic.
There was a technological signature too, buried under everything else.
I dismissed it as interference, but what if… ”
She spun to face him. “Rhyx, what if you’re not just something that was sleeping under the surface? What if you were made?”
The word hit him like a physical blow. “Made?”
“Created. Engineered. Some combination of ancient Martian biology and modern technology.” Her words came faster now, tumbling over each other in her excitement.
“The cyborgs were designed using genetic samples from extinct species combined with nanite integration. What if something similar happened here? What if someone—or something—found preserved biological material from your species and used cyborg technology to bring it back?”
Rhyx stared at her, trying to process what she was suggesting. The memories that had been haunting him—the flying, the dying world, the desperate hope for a future—suddenly took on a different meaning.
“The pod,” he said slowly. “The thing you found me in. It was… a machine?”
“I thought it was organic. A biological stasis chamber of some kind. But if there was nanite technology integrated into its structure…” Alina’s pacing had brought her back to him, and she reached out to touch his chest, her palm flat against the place where his heart pounded.
“You might be both, Rhyx. Ancient and modern. Biological and technological. A bridge between what Mars was and what it’s become. ”
“A bridge.” He didn’t like the word. It made him sound like a thing, a tool, rather than a person. “Or an experiment. Something someone built for their own purposes.”
Alina’s expression softened. “That’s not what I—”
“No.” He covered her hand with his own, pressing it more firmly against his chest. “It doesn’t matter. However I came to be, whatever I am—I’m here now. I’m real. I have thoughts and feelings and… and I love you, Alina. That’s not something that was programmed into me. It’s something I chose.”
Her eyes glistened. “Rhyx…”
“You said these cyborgs—they have the same healing? The same technology in their blood?”
“Similar, yes. The nanite colonies that—”
“Then they might know something about what I am. About where I came from.” He took a breath, steadying himself for what he was about to suggest. “You should talk to them.”
Alina blinked. “The cyborgs?”
“If there’s a connection between us—between whatever made me and whatever made them—they might be able to help. They might have answers.” He paused, weighing his next words carefully. “And they might be the allies you were looking for. The ones who could help protect me.”
“The cyborgs don’t exactly have a friendly relationship with human authorities,” Alina said slowly. “After the uprising, after everything that happened… there’s a lot of distrust on both sides.”
“But your friend. Cass. You said she’s mated to one of them?”
“Zach.” A small smile crossed Alina’s face at the name. “He’s different. He’s—but yes, you’re right. If there’s anyone who might be able to bridge the gap between our communities, it would be them.”
She looked up at him, and the calculation in her eyes had shifted to something warmer, something more like hope.
“This could actually work,” she said. “If the cyborgs are willing to help—if they can provide sanctuary, or at least information—we might have a chance of keeping you safe without having to run or hide.”
“Then you’ll talk to them?”
“I’ll talk to Cass. See if she can arrange a meeting with Zach and some of the other cyborg leaders. But it will take time. I can’t just—”
“I know.” Rhyx pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her head under his chin. “I know you have to go. I know there are things you need to do in your world that I can’t be part of yet. But Alina…”
He tipped her chin up, making her look at him.
“That man you mentioned. Martin. You said he’s gone?”
“For a week. He’s meeting with the people who want to find you.”
“A week.” Rhyx let the word roll around in his mind, tasting the possibilities. “And tonight? Does he know where you are tonight?”
Alina’s cheeks flushed—he’d come to recognize that particular deepening of color as a sign of arousal, of desire she was trying to contain.
“No,” she admitted. “Cass knows, but she’ll cover for me if anyone asks.”
“Then stay.” He lowered his mouth to hover just above hers, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath.
“Not forever. Not until morning. Just… tonight. Give me tonight, Alina. Let me have this one night to hold you, to show you what you mean to me. And tomorrow, I’ll let you go.
I’ll wait here, and I won’t complain, and I’ll trust you to come back when you can. ”
She was trembling against him—whether from desire or the weight of the decision, he couldn’t tell.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered. “You can’t just—asking like that, looking at me like that—”
“Is it working?”
A small, helpless laugh escaped her. “You know it is.”
“Then stay.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “Stay with me.” Her jawline. “Let me love you properly.” The sensitive spot just below her ear that always made her gasp.
“Rhyx…”
“Say yes.”
For a long moment, she didn’t answer. Her hands had found their way to his chest, pressing flat against the scales that covered his heart. He could feel her pulse thrumming through her fingertips, racing in counterpoint to his own.
Then she surged up onto her toes and kissed him—hard, deep, with all the desperation and longing they’d been fighting since she arrived.
“Yes,” she breathed against his lips. “Yes, I’ll stay. God help me, yes.”
Rhyx smiled into the kiss, already lifting her off her feet and carrying her towards the bed of moss where he’d been dreaming of her return.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges. But tonight, she was here. Tonight, she was his.
And tonight was all that mattered.