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V ivienne and Lewis locked eyes for a heartbeat, excitement flashing between them before they bolted up the stairs with the rest of the crew. The rush of movement pulsed through the ship as sailors scrambled toward the railing, boots pounding against the wooden planks.

Vivienne gripped the starboard rail, her breath pausing as she scanned the horizon. The island was little more than a smudge, an indistinct green smear where the sky met the sea. As the Zephyrus pressed forward, the image sharpened, its silhouette emerging from the morning haze like something out of a dream.

Lewis exhaled a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “It’s there,” he murmured. “We’re actually here.”

The call from the crow’s nest rippled down through the ranks, officers shouting orders as the deck sprang into action. Ropes uncoiled, sails adjusted, and hands moved to slow the ship’s approach.

Captain Garrett strode onto the quarterdeck, placing his hat firmly on his head before gripping the helm. His shrewd eyes fixed on the lush island ahead.

The Isle of Verdance rose before them, a cascade of deep green spilling down the cliffs like an overgrown kingdom untouched by time. Towering rainforests stretched beyond the jagged coastline, their emerald canopies shimmering in the golden morning light. Waterfalls, broad and tiered, tumbled from the mountain’s heart, their misty plumes vanishing into the jungle below. The very air hummed, dense with heat, and thick with the scent of rain and soil.

Vivienne’s fingers curled around the railing. The island felt alive. Its energy like a slow, beating heart.

“Prepare to drop anchor! Slow the sails!” Commander Thorne’s voice rang out across the deck, crisp and commanding.

Gus moved with his crew, their hands hauling at the rigging, adjusting the Zephyrus’ pace. Cirrus stood at the captain’s shoulder, his ice-blue eyes scanning the water, pointing out where the depths were safe for anchoring.

Vivienne’s stomach coiled. Besides the incomplete map, the sketches in her mother’s journal, and the handful of plants Lewis had identified, how much did they truly know about this place?

Captain Garrett straightened at the helm. “Bring us in! Prepare to make landfall!”

The ship slowed, the wind catching the edge of the sails as they were bound and the anchor crew took position.

“Drop anchor!” Thorne barked.

A heavy groan rumbled through the deck as the massive iron chain unspooled. The anchor plunged, lancing through the water and disappearing beneath the waves. The thick links rattled as the weight caught, jerking the ship to a slow, deliberate halt.

Satisfied, Captain Garrett dusted his hands off against his coat. “Prepare the longboats!”

The crew wasted no time. Pulley systems whined as four longboats descended to the shimmering water below.

“Ms. Omphrey, Mr. Conway,” Thorne called, his baritone voice carrying above the bustle. “Rationed supplies for this destination. Begin the transfer procedures.”

Barrels, crates, and thick canvas bags moved from hand to hand, sailors working in fluid maneuvers as supplies were hoisted from the hold and lowered into the waiting boats. Vivienne and Lewis, still standing near the railing, edged out of the way as the procession swelled around them.

“Ms. Banner. Mr. Blume.”

Commander Thorne called, summoning them to the quarterdeck. They climbed the steps, coming to stand before him, Captain Garrett, and Cirrus.

Cirrus caught her gaze, his signature smile tugging at the corner of his lips, warm and overfamiliar. Lewis’ shoulders stiffened beside her. She didn’t have to look at him to know he was glaring at Cirrus in full force.

“Yes, Commander?” Vivienne asked, steadying her voice.

Thorne’s expression remained as unreadable as ever. “It takes time to load and transfer supplies to the beach. Your traveling trunks will not be making the journey.”

Vivienne’s brows lifted. “Not making the?—”

“Ms. Omphrey has larger canvas packs you may use,” Thorne continued smoothly, ignoring the interruption. “Bring only what you can carry. Keep in mind, you will also be assigned to transport additional supplies.”

“Aye, Commander,” Lewis responded, forcing a mockingly solemn tone.

Thorne’s only reaction was the slight raise of one eyebrow, his silence louder than a reprimand.

Lewis rocked back on his heels, drawing out the pause before giving an exaggerated nod. “I guess we’ll get going?”

Another slow blink from Thorne.

Vivienne pressed her lips together, barely smothering a laugh as she caught the amused glint in Cirrus’ eye. Lewis had a talent for making other people squirm, but for once, he may have met his match.

* * *

Vivienne rummaged through her traveling trunk, her fingers ghosting over the fabric of neatly folded clothes. How much should she bring? No one had said how long they’d be on the island. Did anyone even know? She eyed the canvas pack Commander Thorne had given her and sighed. This wasn’t going to fit everything.

She had just begun prioritizing when her cabin door swung open.

Cirrus slipped inside, closing the door behind him in one fluid movement.

“What are you doing ?” she hissed, scrambling to her feet.

“Nice to see you too.” His smirk was maddening.

She let out a sharp exhale. “What, you don’t knock anymore? Has being at sea completely ruined your manners?”

His eyes flicked to her hands. Straight to the handful of undergarments she was still holding.

Heat rushed to her face. She turned on her heel, shoving the garments back into her trunk and slamming the lid shut.

A wicked glint sparked in his ice-blue eyes. “It’s not like I haven’t seen those before.”

Her blush deepened. Infuriating man.

“Are you here to borrow some bloomers, or was there something else you needed?” she shot back.

Cirrus took a slow step toward her. “I thought you might want to?—”

“Gods, Cirrus,” she groaned, throwing up her hands. “You can’t just barge in here and think we’re going to?—”

“I’m not seducing you,” he cut in, his laughter low and teasing. “Right now, at least.” He winked.

She rolled her eyes, biting back a scathing response.

His expression warmed as he reached into his coat, pulling out a small slip of parchment and a thin charcoal stick. “I thought you might want to send a message to Briar.”

Vivienne’s breath stalled.

“Only officers can use the homing doves,” he continued, watching her reaction, “but I figured she’d be with Johanna, and I doubt either of them was thrilled about you leaving.”

She stared at him, lips parted, caught between gratitude and suspicion. He remembered. After everything, after years apart, he still remembered.

Tears burned at the edges of her vision. She blinked rapidly, willing them away. Pull yourself together, Vivienne.

Cirrus’ forehead wrinkled in concern. “Whoa, I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” she murmured, wiping at her cheeks. “I just... thank you.”

She took the parchment and charcoal, scribbling a quick note:

Made it to the island safe. Miss you. Love you. –Viv

Rolling it into a tiny scroll, she turned back to Cirrus, the narrow space between them suddenly smaller. She moved to place the note in his outstretched palm, but as she let go, his fingers curled around hers.

His voice was quiet, steady. “Of course, I remember.” His thumb brushed against her knuckles.

The air between them compressed. He leaned in, eyes dropping to her mouth.

A sharp knock rattled the door.

“Miss Banner.” Commander Thorne’s brusque voice carried through from the hallway.

Vivienne jolted back, tugging her hand free. Cirrus let go with an observant, closed-lipped smile.

“It’s open,” she called.

The latch clicked, and the door swung inward.

Commander Thorne remained in the hallway, but his presence filled the space. His dark gaze landed on Cirrus, and in an instant, Vivienne saw the shift. Disbelief, anger, and something menacing prowled beneath his controlled exterior. His fingers flexed near the hilt of his sword.

His voice was frigid. “Miss Banner, was Mr. Theodosia a welcome guest … or an intruder in your space?”

Vivienne’s eyes darted between them. The air thrummed with tension. She realized Cirrus must not have mentioned anything about their past. A joke would probably make this worse.

“He was just leaving,” she said, doing her best to sound casual.

Cirrus exhaled a short laugh, shaking his head before swaggering toward the door.

Commander Thorne stopped him with a firm grip on his arm.

The shift in the air was instant, a smolder of restrained fury. Vivienne barely caught the words that followed, spoken low and lethal.

“If I discover you have used your position or your brutish nature to take advantage of Miss Banner, or any member of this crew, I will gut you like a fish and instruct Mr. Conway to string you up to the rigging by your intestines.”

He leaned in closer, his grip unyielding. “Do I make myself inescapably clear, Theodosia?”

Cirrus’ jaw tightened. He gave a small, begrudging nod before yanking his arm free and stalking down the hall.

Commander Thorne turned to Vivienne, the fire in his eyes dimming, the edge in his voice dulling. “Are you well, Miss Banner?”

She hesitated, measuring the look in his gaze. Concern. Inhibited, but there. “I am.”

He studied her for a heartbeat longer before smoothing out his uniform. “Good.” His tone was all business again. “You and Mr. Blume will be on the next round of longboats as we disembark. Be on the main deck in five minutes.”

With that, he turned and strode down the hall, his footsteps sharp against the wooden floor.

She let out a slow breath. Gods, what was that?

* * *

Vivienne perched at the bow of the longboat, eyes locked on the approaching shore. The swaying rope ladder had been a harrowing descent from the Zephyrus , but excitement fizzed beneath her skin. She’d never been this far from home.

Beside her, Lewis practically drooled with anticipation, barely containing his eagerness at the sight of Verdance’s lush greenery.

Commander Thorne boarded after Cirrus, his watchful gaze never straying far from the navigator. Cirrus caught Vivienne’s eye and gave a subtle jerk of his head skyward. She followed his motion—just in time to spot a tiny speck in the distance. The homing dove.

Vivienne mouthed thank you , offering a grateful smile. Cirrus tilted his head in a slight bow—just as Thorne’s sharp eyes snapped to them.

Hours passed as the crew ferried supplies and personnel to shore. Vivienne learned half would remain on the ship while the rest—about seventy, plus officers—formed the landing party.

When their longboat scraped onto the sand, sailors hauled it ashore. Vivienne stepped onto the beach, her boots sinking into the cool, powdery grains. She knelt, letting the white sand sift through her fingers—so fine and soft, nothing like the rough, gritty shores of Vantner. A towering rainforest loomed ahead, its emerald canopy dense and impenetrable.

“These trees must be hundreds of years old,” Lewis murmured, his voice hushed in reverence.

Maybe older. The place felt ancient. Untamed. Alive.

The shrill blast of Thorne’s whistle snapped everyone to attention. Captain Garrett climbed atop a crate, his officers fanned out beside him.

“Welcome to the Isle of Verdance.” He spread his arms in grand invitation, drawing a round of cheers.

“Now, now,” he waved them down, “she’s a beauty, but she’s dangerous. We stick together. We respect the land and follow orders. Commander Thorne will handle assignments.”

Thorne nodded and strode through the gathering crew, directing sailors and pointing out supplies. Cirrus, map in hand, conferred with the captain, gesturing toward the jungle. Vivienne forced herself to look away. What am I going to do about him?

She glanced at her canvas pack, realizing with a jolt that she had no real memory of what she’d packed. After Cirrus’ unexpected visit, she’d grabbed things in a rush. The essentials were in her smaller tote, but beyond that… Gods, I hope I brought something useful.

“Banner. Blume.” Thorne’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Vivienne and Lewis turned as the commander approached. “You two are near the front of the marching order. Blume, you’ll assist Dr. Mercer and carry medical supplies.” He pointed toward a packed satchel. “Banner, you’ll work with—” his expression darkened slightly, “—a supervised Mr. Theodosia for navigation.” He handed her a coiled length of rope and an instrument case.

Lewis raised a brow at supervised and shot Vivienne a questioning look. She shrugged. Later.

Thorne bent to pick up a heavy canvas pack, grunting at the weight. “Whose is this?”

Lewis raised a hand. “Mine.”

Thorne hefted it, incredulous. “Blume, this must weigh a hundred pounds. Most of which appears to be books. Why didn’t you leave these on the ship?”

Lewis smirked. “I didn’t ask you to leave your sword or your sparkling personality on the ship, did I?”

Vivienne bit her lip to suppress a laugh. Away from deck duties, Lewis had grown bolder, but pushing Thorne’s patience was dangerous territory.

Thorne exhaled sharply, unimpressed. “You’ll still carry your fair share along with your portable library.”

With a theatrical sigh, Lewis slung the monstrous pack over his shoulder, grabbed his assigned cargo, and trudged toward the forming line.

Thorne watched him go, then turned to Vivienne. “Is he always like that?”

“Not always,” she admitted. “I think he’s over tired. I know I am.”

Thorne rolled his shoulders with a dry chuckle. “Well, I’m tired too…” He shot her a glance. “Tired of his shit .”

Vivienne barked a laugh. “I know the feeling.”