After another hour of walking, Becsul called a halt in a wider section of tunnel. “Five minutes. Drink something.”
Melissa sank down against the wall with a grateful sigh, adjusting Robbie’s position so she could reach the water container Makram had provided. Her son was still awake, still watching everything with those bright, curious eyes, and she wondered what he saw when he looked at these dark tunnels, these strange faces. What kind of memories were forming in his tiny mind.
None of this, she thought fiercely. I won’t let him remember any of this.
Becsul crouched beside her, his tail curling around her waist in that absent, affectionate gesture that had become so familiar. “How are you holding up?”
“I’ll live.” She passed him the water, and he drank deeply before handing it back. “How much farther?”
“Another hour to Kellan’s position. Then two more through the industrial sector before we reach the port access.” He paused. “It’s a long way. If you need to rest longer?—”
“I don’t.” She met his eyes, willing him to see the determination there. “I can keep up.”
“I know you can.” His hand found hers, squeezing gently. “You’ve proven that a hundred times over.”
Something in his voice made her chest tighten. She thought about what Makram had said—fifteen years of building networks, of collecting loyalties. Fifteen years of making connections that were now helping them escape.
“Your friend,” she said quietly. “Makram. How did you save his life?”
“The Southern Campaign was… difficult.” Becsul’s expression shifted, shadows moving behind his eyes. “We were sent to secure a water treatment facility that had been overrun by raiders. Makram was my second-in-command. When the facility collapsed, he was trapped in the rubble.”
“You pulled him out.”
“It took three days.” His voice was flat, matter-of-fact, as if he were describing a routine supply run instead of a rescue mission. “By the time we got him free, both his legs were crushed. The medics said he’d never walk again.”
Melissa looked at him, really looked, and saw the weight of all those years pressing down on his shoulders. All those battles fought, all those friends made and lost, all those connections forged in fire and blood.
“You have a lot of friends,” she said softly.
“I have allies. People who trust me, who believe in the same things I believe in.” He paused. “Friends are… rarer.”
“And you’re leaving all of them behind. For us.”
He turned to face her fully, his black eyes intense in the dim light. “I’m leaving a planet that has become a prison. A government that has betrayed everything it was supposed to stand for. A Council that would rather watch our species die than consider alternatives they find distasteful.” His tail tightened around her waist. “You and Robbie aren’t something I’m sacrificing my life for. You’re something I’m building a life around.”
“But your network—all these people who owe you favors, who trust you?—”
“Would have visited me in prison, perhaps. Written letters protesting my treatment. Maybe even organized protests in the capital.” His voice was dry, almost amused. “But they couldn’t have saved me from Naran’s justice. And they certainly couldn’t have given me what I want most in this universe.”
“What do you want most?”
“A family.” The word came out rough, stripped of all pretense. “A mate who sees me as I am. A child to raise, to teach, to love. Something that’s mine—truly mine—that no Council, no government, no dying planet can take from me.”
Melissa’s throat tightened. She thought about her own life before all of this—the long hours at the clinic, the artificial insemination, the careful, controlled way she’d approached motherhood. Alone by choice, she’d told herself. Independent. Self-sufficient.
But the truth was simpler and more painful. She’d been alone because she’d been afraid. Afraid of trusting someone else with her heart, her dreams, her future.
“I want that too,” she whispered. “I didn’t know I wanted it until I met you, but I do.”
He kissed her then, a brief, fierce press of his mouth against hers. “Then we’ll have it. Together.”
“Together,” she agreed.
From somewhere down the tunnel, Wei-Lin cleared her throat pointedly. “Hate to interrupt the moment, but we’re burning daylight. Or whatever passes for daylight underground.”
Becsul pulled back, but not before his tail gave her waist one last squeeze. “She’s right. We need to move.”
Kellan was waiting exactlywhere Makram had said he would be.
