Page 21

NINETEEN

OLIVIA

I reluctantly untangled myself from Aeon’s lap. My legs still trembled as I slid onto the bed beside him. The sweet ache between my thighs reminded me of what we’d just done—what I had initiated.

His muscular arm reached out to pull me against his chest. The heat radiating from his skin was entirely human, nothing mechanical about it.

“Come here,” he whispered, tucking me securely against his side.

I nestled my head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palm. His fingers traced along my bare back, making me shiver.

The silence between us felt oddly comfortable. I should have been analyzing, questioning, and planning my next move. Instead, I found myself memorizing the pattern of scars across his chest, and the way his jaw clenched when he was thinking deeply.

“I never expected this,” Aeon finally said, his voice a low rumble I could feel through his chest. “When we brought you here, I thought only of the colony’s survival.”

“And now?”

His piercing eyes met mine, vulnerable in a way he rarely showed. “Now I think of you. Too much.”

My heart fluttered traitorously. I’d seen this man command a room and make life-or-death decisions without hesitation. Yet here, naked and holding me, he struggled with words that came from somewhere deeper than programming.

“I wish...” he started but then stopped himself. His brow furrowed, searching for the right expression. “I want there to be an us. Beyond this room. Beyond necessity.”

His confession hung for a long moment in the air. I remained silent. My feelings about the future were a tangled mess I wasn’t ready to unravel quite yet.

His arms tightened around me. “Whatever comes from Earth—ships, soldiers, negotiators, anything or anyone—I will keep you safe.” His voice took on that edge of certainty I’d come to recognize. “I made the decision to bring you here. Your safety is my responsibility.”

I traced the outline of a particularly jagged scar that ran across his ribs. “And the colony? The mothers?”

“They will always be my mission.” His hand slid up to cup my face, turning it toward him. “But you are becoming something else entirely.”

The intensity in his expression made my breath catch. This wasn’t the calculated gaze of a machine weighing variables. This was raw, human need—desire mixed with protection and something dangerously close to devotion.

“Earth is coming,” he whispered against my hair. “And I don’t know what that means for us, or for this place. But I know I will stand between you and any threat as long as I draw breath.”

His hand traced down my spine, settling on my lower back and pulling me closer until our bodies aligned perfectly—skin to skin, warmth to warmth.

“For tonight,” I whispered, allowing myself this stolen moment of honesty, “let’s just lie here and enjoy each other.”

He nodded, pressing his lips to my forehead. I closed my eyes, letting the rhythm of his breathing lull me into a false sense of security. I knew that tomorrow would probably force us both to confront the impossible choices ahead.

I woke to the gentle purplish glow of Planet Alpha’s dawn filtering through the window.

Aeon’s arm lay heavily across my waist, his chest rising and falling against my back in a steady rhythm.

The memories of last night crashed over me—his hands on my skin and his mouth finding mine with desperate hunger. Heat bloomed in my cheeks.

What am I doing?

I stared at the alien constellations visible through the window. Earth was out there somewhere. My house. My career. My life. All of it waiting for me—if I could ever return.

If.

How could Earth and Planet Alpha coexist if the truth was revealed? CyberEvolution wouldn’t likely allow a colony of reprogrammed, independent cyborgs to flourish. They’d probably see it as a threat, a precedent that could inspire others. They’d probably send ships and soldiers. Destruction.

I turned and glanced at Aeon’s sleeping face. He couldn’t leave with me. His people needed him here. If I returned to Earth, I’d have to walk away from whatever was growing between us.

My chest tightened at that thought. When had he become more than my captor? When did I start feeling protective of this entire colony?

“Your thoughts are too loud,” Aeon murmured, his voice rough with sleep. His eyes opened, instantly alert in that way that still startled me. His fingers traced along my bare arm, raising goosebumps. “Something’s troubling you.”

I turned in his arms and tucked myself closer against him, savoring his warmth. “Just thinking about Earth.”

His body tensed slightly. “You miss it.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “I do. But I’m also worried what would happen to everyone here if Earth discovers this place.”

His hand settled at the back of my neck, his thumb tracing small circles. “We always knew discovery was a possibility. We prepared for it.”

“You can’t fight Earth, Aeon.”

“And you can’t stay a captive forever.” His eyes held mine, intense and searching. “I know that.”

The words hung between him and me, heavy with implications neither of us was ready to face yet.

He kissed my forehead and then sat up, the sheet gathering around his waist. The scars across his chest and shoulders caught the pink-purple light. Battle wounds from a war he hadn’t chosen to fight.

“The medical staff will be waiting,” he said, his voice shifting to that slightly more formal tone he used when discussing colony business. “We should continue your lesson from yesterday.”

“Back to work already?” I managed a small smile, grateful for the change of subject.

His mouth quirked up at one corner. “The pregnant women won’t wait for us to figure out... whatever this is between us.” He extended his hand to help me up. “Come on, Doctor. Show me more of your human medicine.”

I placed my hand in his, trying not to think about how perfectly it fit there.

The medical bay pulsed with activity that morning, filled with five pregnant cyborg women at varying stages and a team of eager cyborg trainees. I adjusted my patient’s position on the examination table, guiding her hand to her rounded belly.

“That fluttering sensation? That’s your baby moving. Perfectly normal at twenty weeks,” I explained.

The woman—Lumi—gazed at me with awestruck eyes. “It feels strange. But... good strange.”

“It’s one of the most beautiful parts of pregnancy,” I said, smiling despite myself. “Just wait until you can see little feet pressing against your skin.”

Throughout the day, my hands moved from belly to belly, my voice rising and falling as I guided the trainees through various examinations.

Aeon stood nearby, his broad shoulders creating a protective barrier between us and the door, ever-watchful yet increasingly involved.

He passed me equipment before I could ask and anticipated my movements so well it felt like we’d worked together for years.

“Her blood pressure is a bit elevated,” he murmured as I examined Petra, his sixth sense for medical details showing itself.

I nodded. “Good catch. Petra, I’d like you to rest more frequently during the day.”

Between patients, Aeon’s hand occasionally brushed against mine, the contact brief but electric. Each time, he’d lock eyes with me for just a moment longer than necessary, a silent reminder of last night.

By afternoon, I was teaching a small group how to monitor fetal heart tones. Looking around at their focused expressions—these beings supposedly built for war now dedicated to creating life—I felt a surprising rush of pride.

“You’re amazing with them,” Laine whispered as we reviewed charts. “They trust you.”

“They shouldn’t, considering I’m human,” I replied automatically, but the words felt hollow.

As sunset approached, I sat with Nora, who was closest to delivery. Her eyes glimmered with anxiety as I checked her measurements.

“What if I can’t do it right?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What if I’m not... programmed for motherhood?”

I took her hand. “Nobody is programmed for motherhood. We all learn together, one day at a time.”

Later, watching the trainees practice on each other, I thought of Ben.

He’d sacrificed everything because he saw the humanity in these cyborgs.

Now I saw it, too—their uncertainty, their hopes, and their capacity for love.

These weren’t machines. They were people forging a future, and I was suddenly vital to that future.

As the day finally wound down, Aeon approached me, his stance betraying tension despite his calm expression.

“You should eat something,” he said, standing close enough that I caught his scent—something clean and distinctly his. “You’ve been working twelve hours straight.”

I glanced up at his face, noting the concern in his eyes. “I’m needed here.”

“Yes,” he agreed, his voice dropping lower. “You are. More than you know.” He hesitated for a second. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

The question lingered in the air between us—loaded with implications and complications. I could refuse. Create distance. Protect my heart against whatever collision of worlds might come when Earth found us.

But looking at him—steady, reliable, and infinitely complex—I realized I had already crossed a line I couldn’t redraw.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “I’ll stay with you.”