Clerical oversight, my ass. Nobody’s deployed by accident, least of all a rich man’s son. I know twenty things that would keep that from ever happening.

Unless he had a girlfriend with a father who didn’t like the idea of that connection. Unless the girl he loved was Lilac LaRoux.

Then I can see it happening.

Poor Lilac. She’s lived with this secret locked inside for three years. I’ve never heard her sound so lost—like she really believes it’s her fault that that boy was killed. What kind of father lays a burden like that on a fourteen-year-old girl? Lets her live her life thinking she’s got blood on her hands?

I wish she’d told me sooner. But what would I have done, if she’d told me back on the Icarus that it was too dangerous to pursue her? Would I have been smart enough to walk away?

I realize that I’ve been pounding the rock against the same place for at least two minutes without a result. I drop it, abandoning my futile attempt to make a dent in the shutters, and head upstream after Lilac.

What can I even say to her? All I know is that I need to go to her, electricity coursing up and down my spine.

A flash of red jumps out at me, fabric tied around an outcropping. I’m so tired, my head so full of half-formed apologies, that it takes me a moment to spot the opening of the cave.

The Lilac I crashed with would never have thought of that. She’d have just disappeared inside without so much as a second thought as to how I’d find her. But my girl’s changed so much since we landed.

The entrance is narrow, but I squeeze through it, splashing through the stream. The sunlight’s fading when I spot the flashlight up ahead. The narrow passageway widens out into a larger chamber, like a bubble inside the rock, and I almost miss the big step down.

I stop myself from falling just in time, grabbing at the edge of the opening. She hasn’t noticed me yet. She’s in the middle of the cave, unpacking our things and carefully laying them out. She’s gotten a fire going directly under a break in the ceiling, for the smoke to escape. Did I teach her that, or did she work it out herself? I can’t remember anymore.

She’s making up two beds, her mouth a thin, fixed line, her shoulders square and determined. She’s reaching into the same well of discipline that she found when I was sick, I suppose. The same well that pushed her back into a ship full of the dead to find me medicine.

How did I ever think she couldn’t judge the depth of her own feelings?

I climb down carefully into the cave, letting a couple of pebbles click together deliberately. She glances up as I walk over, then returns to her work, pushing a spare shirt inside the pillow she’s making.

“Do you know what I thought, the first time I saw you, when you were telling off those officers?” There’s an edge to my voice, a hesitation—I sound nervous. I’m not, though. I’ve never been so sure.

She looks up at me again, weariness etched all over her face. She lifts her chin a little as though bracing for a blow. “What did you think, Tarver?”

“I thought, that’s my kind of girl.”

Her expression doesn’t shift.

I let myself smile a little as I ease down to my knees in front of her, every tired muscle protesting the move. “And Lilac, I was right. Forget everything else. Forget everyone else. You’re exactly my kind of girl.”

“Tarver, you were right to stop me before.” Her blue eyes are dark and deep, her hair ablaze with firelight. “This can’t happen.”

Guilt is written on her features so clearly that it almost breaks my heart. Her breath catches as I reach for her arm to tug her up onto her knees, to my level. “What happened with Simon wasn’t your fault. Your father did that—not you. You’re not to blame for someone loving you.”

She swallows, her eyes meeting mine, uncertain.

I can’t stand it anymore, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m leaning down to kiss her. A jolt goes through me as our lips meet, and she drops the flashlight with a clatter. She hesitates for a moment, then pulls away from me. I want to lean after her, but I hold myself still, heart hammering. “But—on the plain, you acted like you didn’t even want me,” she whispers.

“If you really believed that performance, you’re crazier than I thought. I’ve wanted you from the beginning. I thought it was better to keep away, to stay focused on getting us out of here.” My voice is hoarse, now. “I was scared of having you, then losing you again. But it would be worth it a thousand times over. I was an idiot, I’m sorry.”

Her face is flushing, lips reddening, her fair skin making it easy to see. The urge to kiss her again is overpowering. This time when I lean in she doesn’t break away. I bend my head to hers and slide a hand around the small of her back to pull her in. I tease at her lower lip with my teeth and she gasps for a shaky breath.

I pull back a fraction, that tiny distance requiring a monumental effort. “You want me to stop,” I manage, barely recognizing my own voice, “you tell me.”

It takes me a moment to register her dark eyes, her parted lips, the way she leans after me. Her hand curls around the sleeve of my shirt, trembling. It’s then I realize my hands are none too steady either.

“You stop now,” she breathes, “and I’ll never forgive you.”

There’s a soft moan as our bodies come together, but I’m not even sure which one of us made the sound.

If a rescue ship landed in the clearing outside just now, I’d keep right on hiding in this cave.