5
The air was dense and oppressive, carrying a sharp metallic tang that clung to Lia’s tongue with every breath. Ares moved like a shadow across the shifting desert sands, his long strides calculated and fluid, barely disturbing the terrain beneath his feet. He carried her effortlessly, her weight inconsequential against the power embedded in his alloy frame.
But it wasn’t the ease of his movements that kept her silent. It was the way he held her.
One arm cradled her back, his hand splayed across her lower ribs, steady and sure. The other rested beneath her knees, his fingers curling just slightly, as though his grip had to be both firm and careful. Lia’s head lay against his chest, and she could hear the faint hum of his systems—a soft, rhythmic pulse that almost sounded like a heartbeat.
“You’re too quiet,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice was low but carried easily over the sound of the wind.
“I’m trying not to throw up,” she replied dryly, though her words lacked their usual bite.
He glanced down at her, his silver eyes catching the glare of the alien sun. The light reflected off his face, illuminating the faint seams where synth-flesh met polished metal. The effect was startling—otherworldly, yes, but impossibly captivating.
“You’re not going to vomit,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.
“Oh, so now you’re a doctor?” she shot back, but even as she said it, she realized how tightly her fingers were gripping his shoulder.
Ares didn’t answer immediately. His gaze flicked toward the horizon, his expression unreadable. “I’ve been analyzing your vitals since we left the shelter,” he said finally. “Your adrenaline levels are high, but you’re stabilizing. You’ll recover.”
“That’s comforting,” she muttered, her voice laced with sarcasm. “I love being analyzed like a lab rat.”
His gaze shifted back to her, and there was something in his eyes—something that made her breath catch. “You’re not an experiment to me, Lia,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.
Her stomach twisted at his words, at the sincerity in his tone. She looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “You’re full of contradictions, you know that?”
“Explain,” he said, his tone suddenly curious.
“You’re a robot,” she said, her voice soft. “You’re supposed to follow directives, run programs, calculate probabilities. But you don’t act like that. You act like...”
“Like what?” he prompted.
“Like a person,” she admitted reluctantly. “And it’s confusing as hell.”
Ares slowed his pace slightly, his movements almost hesitant. “It’s confusing for me as well,” he said, and the vulnerability in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
Lia turned her head to look at him, her hazel eyes narrowing. “How can you even say that? You’re a machine. Confusion isn’t something you’re supposed to feel.”
He met her gaze, and for a moment, the faint hum of his systems seemed to falter. “I don’t know if what I’m experiencing qualifies as ‘feeling,’” he admitted. “But when I look at you, when I hear your voice, there’s... something. Something I can’t quantify or explain.”
Her chest tightened, and she hated how much his words affected her. “You’re probably glitching,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
“Maybe,” he said, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “But if this is a glitch, I’m not sure I want it fixed.”
Lia’s breath caught, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade. She couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t ignore the way his silver eyes softened as they held hers. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Ares stopped abruptly.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice sharper now.
He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her arms for just a moment before he stepped in front of her. His body tensed, his head tilting slightly as he scanned the area.
“There are three of them,” he said, his voice low and calm. “They’re circling us.”
Lia’s heart sank. She gripped the small blade she still carried, her palms slick with sweat. “What do we do?”
“You stay behind me,” he said without hesitation.
She bristled at his tone. “I can fight too, you know.”
He turned to her, and the intensity in his gaze made her swallow her protests. “Your survival is my priority,” he said, his voice hard. “Stay. Behind. Me.”
Before she could argue further, a low growl echoed across the sands, followed by the rapid clicking of claws. Ares shifted his stance, his movements precise and predatory.
The first creature lunged out of the shadows, its yellow eyes glowing with malice. Ares caught it mid-air, his hands gripping its throat and snapping it with a single, fluid motion. He tossed the lifeless body aside, his gaze already scanning for the next threat.
Lia took a step back, her heart racing as another creature appeared, this one larger and faster. It charged toward Ares, its claws swiping in a blur of motion. Ares blocked the strike with his forearm, the impact sending a shockwave through the air.
“Lia, move!” he shouted, his voice slicing through the chaos.
She stumbled back, her eyes darting between Ares and the third creature that was now circling behind him. “Ares, behind you!”
He reacted instantly, twisting his body to intercept the attack. The creature’s claws raked across his shoulder, leaving deep gashes in his alloy plating. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he drove his knee into its torso, sending it sprawling to the ground.
Lia’s grip tightened on her blade as she watched the fight unfold. Ares moved like a dancer—graceful and deliberate, every motion purposeful. But he was outnumbered, and she could see the strain in his movements, the way his reactions were just a fraction slower than before.
One of the creatures lunged for him again, its claws aimed for his exposed side. Lia didn’t think. She surged forward, slashing at the creature’s flank with her blade. The alien screeched, stumbling back, and Ares turned to her, his silver eyes wide.
“Lia, what are you doing?” he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and something else—fear.
“Helping,” she said through gritted teeth.
The last creature charged at her, and before she could react, Ares was there, his body a shield between her and the threat. The creature’s claws raked across his chest, and he grunted, his movements faltering for the first time.
“Ares!” she shouted, her heart lurching.
“I’m fine,” he said, his voice strained. He grabbed the creature by its head and twisted sharply, the sickening crack echoing in the air.
As the final predator collapsed, Ares staggered slightly, his hand pressing against the gash in his chest. Lia rushed to his side, her hands trembling as she reached for him.
“You’re hurt,” she said, her voice thick with worry.
“It’s nothing,” he replied, though his voice lacked its usual steadiness.
“Stop lying,” she snapped, her eyes blazing with anger. “You’re not invincible, Ares. You can’t just—”
“I couldn’t let them touch you,” he interrupted, his silver eyes meeting hers.
Her breath caught, and for a moment, she forgot what she was going to say. His words, his expression, the way he looked at her—it was too much.
“Ares,” she began, but the sound of distant growls cut her off.
His head snapped toward the horizon, his body tensing. “There are more coming,” he said grimly.
“How many?”
“Too many,” he said, his voice low. He turned to her, his expression hard. “We need to run.”
Before she could respond, he grabbed her hand and pulled her forward, his grip strong and unyielding. The predators’ cries grew louder, closer, and Lia’s heart raced as they ran into the unknown.