I wanted to kick myself. She’d given me an opening to tell her the truth, and instead I took the coward’s way out. But it was better this way, I told myself. Safer for both of us. Within minutes, her breathing had settled into the genuine rhythm of sleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the bitter taste of lies in my mouth.
The itch on my neck was getting worse, spreading down toward my collarbone. I scratched at it absently, trying to focus on something other than the warmth of Zara’s body just beyond my reach.
Eventually, exhaustion won out over my churning thoughts, and I fell into a fitful, restless sleep.
I woke to silence.
The quality of light filtering through the window told me it was early morning, probably just after dawn. But something was wrong. The space beside me was empty, the blanket thrown back and abandoned.
“Rivers?” I called softly, sitting up and looking around the control room.
No answer.
I got to my feet, my heart starting to race. “Rivers!” I called louder, moving toward the stairwell. “Where are you?”
Still nothing.
Panic clawed at my chest as I searched the room morethoroughly. Her pack was still here, her scientific equipment undisturbed. But she was nowhere to be found.
Maybe she’d gone upstairs to use the facilities, or to check on the water collection system. But some instinct was screaming at me that something was wrong.
I made my way to the outer hatch and opened it, stepping outside into the pre-dawn gloom. The air felt different today—thicker, but less oppressive. A light drizzle was falling, and the moment the moisture touched my skin, I felt a sharp, burning sensation.
“Zara!” I shouted, ignoring the pain as the rain began to eat at my exposed skin. I strode farther out. My gaze swept the landscape, searching for movement. For her wild blond hair. For any sign of her. “Where are you?”
The smell hit me then—acrid and chemical, like something industrial and toxic. This wasn’t ordinary precipitation. This was acid rain, probably a result of whatever atmospheric processes were still active from the weather control system.
“Torven!” I heard my name being called, but the voice was coming from behind me, not ahead.
I spun around to see Zara standing in the doorway of the tower, her hands planted firmly on her hips and her expression thunderous.
Relief flooded through me so intensely that my knees almost buckled. She was safe. She was alive. She was also clearly furious with me.
I rushed back toward the tower, the acid rain burning tracks down my arms and face. The moment I was through the hatch, Zara slammed it shut behind me.
“What the fuck were you doing out there?” shedemanded. Her brown eyes blazed with anger and something that looked like fear.
I wiped at my stinging skin, trying to clear away the acidic moisture. “I thought you’d run off.”
“Run off?” She stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Whywould I run off?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because of our conversation last night.”
She was already moving, grabbing her water container and pouring some onto a piece of cloth. “Hold still,” she commanded, reaching up to clean the acid residue from my face with gentle, efficient strokes.
“You disappeared,” I said, trying to justify my panic. “I woke up and you were gone.”
“I went up to the water level,” she said, her voice tight with controlled emotion. “I woke up early and wanted to do some readings on the flora growths up there. Did you really think I would just run off into a toxic alien wasteland because you told me you weren’t interested in me romantically?”
When she put it like that, it sounded absurd. But the fear that had gripped me when I’d found her gone had been very real, very primal.
“I thought…” I started, then stopped. How could I explain that the idea of her leaving had sent me into a panic that bypassed all rational thought?
“You thought what?” she pressed, moving to clean the acid burns on my arms. “That I was so devastated by your rejection, I decided to throw myself to the mercies of alien weather?”
“No,” I said, then reconsidered. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
She paused in her cleaning, looking up at me with an expression I couldn’t read. “Torven, I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a fool. You’re not the first male who found me too…muchto be with, and you won’t be the last. I’m not offended.”
