Then the dizziness hit.
The wave came from nowhere—not like the cramps, not like the heat flushes. This was different. His vision went gray at the edges, then started to tunnel. His limbs felt distant, disconnected. The ground tilted beneath his knees.
Get up. You have to get up. Don’t let them see—
Strong arms caught him before he could fall, pulling him back against familiar warmth and that incredible strawberries-and-cream scent that made his brain sing withsafe, safe, safe.
“I’ve got you,” Riot murmured against his ear.
“I’m okay,” Cass said automatically. “I just moved too fast. I’m fine. Look, are those tomatoes actually growing on that vine? How is that possible?”
“Cass, you’re burning up.”
“I’m fine,” Cass repeated, because if he said it enough times maybe it would become true. “Can we look at the gardens? And the buildings? Why are some of the roofs green? Is that grass growing up there?”
The questions tumbled out in a rush, his heat-addled brain apparently deciding that if he just kept talking, kept focusing on the wonder around him, he could ignore the way his body was falling apart.
“We should get you inside,” Riot said. “You need—”
“Is that a greenhouse?” Cass interrupted, spotting a glass structure beyond the main buildings. “Can we go look? I’ve never seen vegetables growing outside of hydroponics—”
“Lilac,” Riot called, his voice tight. “Help.”
Lilac appeared beside them, her expression a mix of concern and lingering frustration from the car. “Come on,cariño. Let’sget you somewhere cool and comfortable. You can explore more once you’re feeling better.”
“But I am feeling better,” Cass protested. “This place is incredible. How do you keep the plants so healthy without chemical fertilizers? And why are there butterflies? I thought butterflies were extinct—”
He tried to pull away from Riot, wanting to chase the flutter of orange and black wings he’d spotted near a cluster of purple flowers, but his legs buckled immediately. Riot’s arms tightened around him, keeping him from hitting the ground again.
“The flowers will still be here later,” Lilac said, taking his arm. “Right now you need rest and water and—”
“Why do some buildings have living walls?” Cass asked. “Are those plants actually part of the structure? How do you keep them from dying in winter?”
“Focus, Cass,” Lilac said more firmly. “Walking first, botanical survey later.”
Cass tried. He really did. He managed maybe three steps before another cramp seized him—this one bad enough to make him gasp and double over. Through the haze, he became aware that they weren’t alone anymore. People had gathered—drawn by the Jeep’s arrival or maybe by the sight of someone in Elysian robes stumbling around their settlement. He could feel their eyes on him, hear the murmur of voices, and the shame was almost worse than the physical symptoms.
There was a strange rolling, crunching sound that made the crowd step back, creating a clear path.
The woman approaching in the electric wheelchair was small but commanded attention like a force of nature. Silver hair pulled back in a practical bun, sharp eyes that missed nothing, and a rifle resting casually across her lap. She reminded Cass of the Elders, except there was nothing serene about her expression.
“Well, well,” she said, her voice carrying easily across the open space. The drawl was unexpected—slow and sweet almost, but with an edge that could cut glass. “What in the hell do we have here?”
Cass felt his heart sink. Even through the heat fog, he could read the hostility in her posture, the way her hand rested on that rifle.
Lilac stepped forward quickly. “Granny Lu, this is—”
“I can see what this is,” the woman interrupted, her gaze fixed on Cass’s robes with unmistakable disgust. “The question is why you brought corporate recruitment trash to my settlement, Lilac. I thought you had better sense than that.”
Trash.
The word hit like a physical blow. Cass had grown used to rejection over the past months—he dealt with it everyday with a smile on his face…but something about this woman’s tone made it feel final.
I don’t belong anywhere.
Failed Elysian. Failed missionary. Failed everything.
“He’s not trash,” Riot said, and there was a dangerous edge to his voice that made the crowd shift nervously. “He needs help, so maybe we could save the interrogation for when he’s not about to collapse.”
