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V ivienne and Cirrus stepped into camp as dusk settled over the canopy. Her thoughts swirled around the kiss, what it meant to him, what she wanted it to mean to her.

Lewis, sitting near the medical station, jumped to his feet the moment he spotted them. “Viv! How’d it go?” His voice was upbeat but held a kernel of anxiety.

“It was…” she hesitated.

Cirrus raised a flirtatious eyebrow, interested to see how she’d respond.

“Enlightening,” she declared, forcing a neutral expression.

Lewis gave her a quizzical look. “We’ll take ‘enlightening.’ The captain and commander wanted to see you both once you got back.”

Cirrus placed a hand on Vivienne’s lower back. “Banns, let’s debrief now, then we can relax.”

She resented the butterflies swirling in her stomach. “Sure.”

Vivienne stepped forward, displacing Cirrus’ touch, but not before Lewis caught the gesture, his glare sharpening on Cirrus.

“I’ll come with you,” Lewis announced.

“No need, Blume,” Cirrus countered.

Lewis’ tight smile didn’t waver. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I insist.”

They approached the makeshift table, where Captain Garrett and Commander Thorne reviewed charts. Vivienne noted the subtle way Thorne scanned her, assessing for any signs of injury—or worse. His shoulders relaxed, satisfied with his evaluation.

“Glad to see you both in one piece,” Captain Garrett greeted. “No poisonous snacks? No beasts making a meal of you?” He chuckled. “Blume, you spent most of the day sorting, right?”

Lewis nodded. “Yes, Captain. Dr. Mercer and I verified everything that was safe to eat and discarded anything questionable.”

“Splendid!” The captain clapped his hands together. “Now, Miss Banner, Mr. Theodosia, what have we learned?”

Cirrus unrolled the updated map onto the crate-table. “Banns, take it away,” he encouraged.

Vivienne took a steadying breath, focusing on the map. “From the higher vantage point, we had a clearer view of the island. We found what appear to be ruins here,” she pointed to the locations, “and a large, burned tree here.”

Thorne folded his arms. “Captain, our intel indicated this island was never inhabited. Have we been misinformed?”

Cirrus raised a hand. “I don’t think anyone knew about the ruins before today.”

Vivienne pressed her lips together. My mother did. She sketched them in her journal.

Captain Garrett hooked his thumbs through his belt. “And what do you propose we do with these findings, Miss Banner?”

Vivienne glanced at the three men, gauging their reactions. Cirrus gave a subtle nod, urging her forward.

“The ruins are closer to camp. We can learn about the island’s past and maybe find some clues about the tribute we’re looking for. I suggest we start there.”

Garrett nodded. “Theodosia, any objections?”

“None, sir.” Cirrus grinned.

Vivienne looked down, hiding her own smile.

“Excellent,” the captain declared. “Commander Thorne and I will determine tomorrow’s exploration team.”

* * *

Vivienne sat under Cirrus’ canopy, savoring the last bites of a lemon tart when familiar footsteps halted behind her.

“You have pastries ?” Lewis whispered in mock outrage. “You’ve been holding out on me!”

She spoke around a mouthful, unfazed. “In my defense, you weren’t speaking to me yesterday.”

“Uh, not a defense,” he countered, laying his bedroll beside hers. “If you have them now, you had them on the ship. That’s textbook pastry treason.”

Vivienne pressed her wrists together. “Fine, guilty as charged.”

Lewis eyed the bag. “I might grant immunity… if you share.”

“How generous of you.” She rolled her eyes, tossing him a chunk of glossy bread.

They ate, exchanging stories. Lewis’ discoveries among the foraged plants, Vivienne’s grueling climb and new sections of the map. She left out the kiss. No need to test his reaction to that.

Another set of footsteps approached. Judging by Lewis’ flat expression, it was either Cirrus or Commander Thorne.

“Hello again, Blume,” Cirrus drawled.

“Hi, Cici,” Lewis shot back, making Vivienne bite back a laugh. Cirrus had always hated the nickname Lewis bestowed on him.

She glanced up as Cirrus settled onto his bedroll. Somehow, he still looked put together while she felt like a walking disaster. Days without a proper bath, drenched in sweat. Disgusting. “Please tell me there’s a way to get clean here.”

Cirrus signaled to the trees on his right. “There’s a stream east of camp. It has fresh-water pools deep enough to sit in.”

Vivienne sighed in anticipated relief. “That sounds amazing.”

Cirrus’ smirk was instant. “You know, I could show you around?—”

She scoffed. “I think I’ll manage.”

“How thoughtful, Cici,” Lewis cut in. “I’ll let the crew know you’re offering guided tours of the stream.”

Cirrus leaned back on his elbows, exhaling. “Envy isn’t a good color on you, Blume.”

Vivienne caught the way Lewis’ cheeks darkened, his scowl deepening. Gods, I’m in the middle of a territorial standoff.

She groaned, pushing to her feet. “I’m going to rinse off. Alone, ” she said, pointing at Cirrus in warning.

Cirrus’ eyes gleamed with mischief, but Lewis was faster to respond. “Don’t worry, Viv. I’ll be here, the whole time , keeping our little Cici company.”

Cirrus’ jaw tensed, nostrils flaring. Vivienne chuckled under her breath and gathered bathing supplies before either of them could rope her into their absurd game of tug-of-war.

* * *

Vivienne made her way toward the stream, arms full of fresh clothes, soap, and a small towel. The thickening twilight gave her enough cover to feel comfortable undressing, even with the camp only thirty yards away. She peeled off her damp, clinging clothes, sighing as the cool water shocked her overheated skin. The relief was immediate, washing away the layers of sweat and grime. Gods, I might be in an intimate relationship with this stream. She took her time washing her tired limbs and tangled hair. She let the current swirl around her, eyes closing as she savored the sensation.

A pointed throat clearing snapped her out of her bliss. I swear if Cirrus ? —

Vivienne’s eyes flew open. Not Cirrus. Worse.

Commander Thorne sat in the pool just below hers, staring intently at a boulder downstream.

"Commander!" Her voice pitched higher than intended. Heat flooded her face, which had nothing to do with the climate. He was just as bare as she was.

Thorne remained rigid, keeping his gaze locked on the rock like it held the meaning of life. "You got in before I could say anything, and I couldn't leave... because..." He gestured vaguely at himself.

Vivienne’s wits unraveled like a skein of yarn. His uniform did an impressive job of hiding how built he was. Not that she should be noticing. But how could I not? No. Focus, Vivienne. She hastily crossed her arms over her chest.

"If you thought I’d be quick, you miscalculated," she hissed.

The commander said nothing, his self-discipline visibly strained. The tension between them thickened until the sky split open.

Raindrops pattered against the leaves, hesitant at first, then swelling into a torrential downpour.

"We should head back to camp," Thorne called over the storm.

Vivienne arched a brow, teasing despite her awkwardness. "Trying to make me get out first? Haven’t seen enough yet?"

His shoulders tensed. "No…I— We can get out at the same time. Face away from each other."

She considered arguing just to fluster him but relented. They moved to the edge of the stream, hauling themselves onto the bank. Vivienne turned away, tugging on her damp trousers and pulling her tunic over her head—only to realize the rain had made it completely see-through. Great. That’s just great.

Thorne called out, "Are you decent?"

"In a manner of speaking," she replied, clutching her other clothing and items in front of her chest.

He turned, immediately grasping the problem, his eyes darting to her transparent sleeves. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his naval jacket, returning to his shirtless state. "Here," he said, holding it out. "If you'll allow me."

Vivienne nodded, and he draped it around her shoulders. The jacket was warm, impossibly large on her, smelling of cedar and salt. It was more waterproof than she’d expected, but it didn’t matter when the sky was throwing buckets at them.

They hiked back to camp, the only sounds between them the rain and the occasional rustle as he offered her a hand over fallen branches. The tension still simmered, unspoken but indisputable.

As they stepped into camp, Vivienne felt the weight of dozens of eyes locking onto them. Cirrus and Lewis’ reactions were the most dramatic. Both of their expressions teetered between shock and absolute outrage, eyes bulging, jaws locked. It wasn’t hard to see why. The commander, bare-chested, while she wore his jacket, looked... damning.

Cirrus practically vibrated with fury. “What in the everdark is going on here?”

Commander Thorne remained tranquil. “The lady was caught in the rain and required further accouterment.”

Lewis folded his arms, unconvinced. “Did she require your shirt as accouterment? Or do your abs require photosynthesis?”

Cirrus scoffed. “Why not offer her your pants as well?”

Thorne turned to him with an icy stare. “Mr. Theodosia, I’m disappointed by the indecency of your suggestion.”

Vivienne nearly laughed at Cirrus’ barely contained rage. His fists clenched like he was debating whether to throw a punch.

“Nothing happened,” she cut in, offended at their assumptions and Cirrus’ sudden ownership claim over her. “Owen?—”

Lewis let out a dramatic gasp. “First name basis, huh?”

“SHUT UP, LEWIS!” she and Cirrus barked in unison.

Vivienne moved to return the jacket, but Thorne shook his head. “Keep it until morning. None of us will dry off before sunrise.”

She met his gaze, her gratitude genuine. “Thank you.”

Thorne dipped his chin in acknowledgment. Cirrus and Lewis glowered as the commander strode into the rain, but Vivienne was too tired to care. She collapsed onto her bedroll, wrapped in the warmth of the commander’s jacket, and let sleep take her.