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T he throbbing in Vivienne’s skull came first, a sharp, blinding pulse radiating from the back of her head. A wave of nausea coiled in her stomach, threatening to drag her under again. The stone floor pressed cold and unyielding against her back, her wrists burning from the bite of tight rope.

She opened her eyes, the cave around her was swallowed in deepening twilight, shadows stretching along the jagged walls. Her muscles screamed as she turned her head, a low groan escaping her lips.

Cirrus was slumped nearby, his head bowed, his chest rising in uneven breaths. Blood trickled from a gash above his temple, streaking down his face. His hands and legs were bound, but the bruises marring his skin told her one thing— he put up an everdark of a fight.

A muffled shout cut through the cave. Vivienne’s gaze snapped to the opposite side of the cavern, where Enyo stood over two figures forced to their knees—Florence and another bloodied, battered Zephyrus crewman.

Florence! She’s alive!

The gunner’s face was streaked with dirt and blood, but her hazel eyes still blazed with defiance. The Thanatos crew paced like wolves, waiting for their captain’s next move. Enyo wasn’t yelling, but his body was tense, his words low and seething. Vivienne couldn’t hear them, but she didn’t need to.

A hulking crewman with a shaved head and gleaming piercings plucked a Noctilum bud from the vine. The moment the silver petals left their stem, the bloom wilted into lifelessness. He tried again. And again. One by one, the flowers shriveled.

The frustration on Enyo’s face turned murderous. Without hesitation, he drove his sword straight through the man’s chest.

Vivienne barely bit back a scream as the crewman crumpled, his blood staining the cave floor. Florence flinched but didn’t look away.

Enyo turned his fury on her, grabbing a fistful of her curls and jerking her head back. His words snapped out in rage, but Vivienne could only catch fragments from reading Florence’s lips.

“I don’t know… I don’t know how to fix it.”

Wrong answer. Enyo released her hair, raising his hand in a sharp gesture. A brute stepped forward, his dagger gleaming.

“No!” Florence screamed as the man yanked back the Zephyrus crewman’s head—and sliced.

The wet gurgle that followed would haunt Vivienne’s nightmares.

Blood sprayed across the cave, splattering across Florence’s face, her chest. The body collapsed, lifeless at her knees.

Florence trembled but lifted her chin, glaring at Enyo with pure hatred in her narrowed eyes. Then, in a slow, deliberate motion, she spat in his face.

The Thanatos crew froze, waiting for their captain’s reaction. Vivienne’s heart pounded, knowing this was it—Florence had signed her death sentence.

Enyo wiped the spit from his cheek, his expression unreadable. Then, with one brutal backhand, he sent Florence sprawling. Her head cracked against the stone, her body falling limp.

Vivienne’s vision turned red.

Rage uncoiled inside her, hotter and deadlier than anything she had ever felt. She had never killed before, never felt the bone-deep certainty that someone needed to die.

Now she did.

If she could tear Enyo apart with her bare hands, she would. Instead, she forced herself to think. How do we get out of here alive?

Gods these things are tight. Vivienne pulled at the ropes on her wrists. She gasped in surprise. They hadn’t taken her dagger. Idiots. It was still hidden in the waistband of her trousers, pressed against the cave wall. If I can work the blade between the fibers…

Enyo’s pacing snapped her attention back to him. He pointed toward the vines, his fury still seething beneath his skin. Another crewman stepped forward, plucking a Noctilum bud. Again, it withered instantly.

Enyo let out a savage yell—grabbed the man by the neck of his shirt and dragged him toward the waterfall. With a firm push, he sent the crewman through the water, sending him plummeting to a watery grave.

Vivienne flinched, her fingers guiding the dagger, sawing faster against the rope. The bastard killed another of his own crew. He’s a monster. A ruthless monster.

Then, he turned toward her. Closing the distance between them with several long, agitated strides.

“Where is your plant friend?” he screamed, though the sound was barely audible above the waterfall.

Vivienne’s grip on the dagger tightened. “He’s dead.”

Enyo’s eyes narrowed, searching her face for a lie.

Keep him distracted. Keep sawing.

“Explain to me why these gods-damned flowers die the second we pick them.” Enyo’s spit flew as he shouted.

Vivienne sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Enyo’s jaw clenched. “All of it.”

The rope frayed. Just a little more.

“Well… it’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” Enyo growled.

Vivienne shrugged, making a show of dragging out her response. “These flowers are picky, you know? Really fussy. They only bloom under a… what was it again?”

She paused, feeling the last thread snap.

Vivienne’s hands slipped free.

“Oh, that’s right,” she said sweetly. “A full moon.”

Enyo froze.“What?”

Vivienne grinned. “Yeah, not ideal, huh? Looks like you’re shit out of luck.”

For a moment, Enyo just stared. Processing. Then—his rage exploded. He lunged at her, fingers snatching into her ponytail as he wrenched her head back. She cried out, scalp screaming in pain.

"Maybe you need more motivation," Enyo snarled, yanking her closer. "Maybe your pretty boy gets the same blood necklace as his crewman. Or maybe your gunner gets a taste of her own everburn." His rancid breath roiled as he leaned his face closer to hers. “What’s it going to be, library brat ?”

Enough.

“It’s not library brat.” She tightened her hand on her dagger’s grip. “My name is Vivienne. Fucking. Banner. ”

She twisted, yanking her dagger free—and plunged the blade deep into his thigh.

Enyo’s scream was pure, raw agony. “You bitch—” he yelled, reaching for the handle of his sword.

Vivienne’s scalp burned as Enyo’s grip wrenched her backward, but she didn’t hesitate. She twisted her head and sank her teeth into the flesh of his arm, tasting sweat and iron as her jaw clamped down with her full force. Enyo roared, his muscles tensing beneath her bite, the sharp tang of blood filling her mouth. He jerked back, his grip loosening just enough for her to claw his filthy fingers from her hair.

But she wasn’t finished. As his body lurched away, she wrenched the dagger from his thigh in one swift motion, the slick warmth of his blood coating her fingers. Enyo’s scream tore through the cave, raw and ragged, but Vivienne was already moving. She drove the heel of her boot into the open wound. A sickening squelch filled the air as Enyo’s shriek turned guttural, his body convulsing beneath the fresh wave of agony. He howled, collapsing.

His remaining men rushed forward, dragging him to safety.

Vivienne had only a second to react before two more Thanatos crew grabbed her arms, slamming her against the cave wall.

“She’s feral!” one shouted, grappling to keep hold.

“She’s a gods-damned maniac!” the other groaned as she kicked him hard in the groin.

“You’re both wrong.” Florence appeared behind the men, Cirrus’ confiscated sword gleaming in her hand. “She’s a librarian.”

The first man charged at Florence, his battle cry dulled by the waterfalls. She planted her feet, holding the blade steady, waiting for the perfect moment. The man lunged, Florence sidestepped in a smooth pivot and carved a deep arc across his stomach. He staggered past her, clutching his midsection as blood gushed from the wound.

As the first man bled out, the second man slashed a short sword toward her side. Florence met his blow with a sharp clang of steel, her arms shaking as their blades locked. He pressed forward, his strength and size forcing her back a step, but she twisted free, bringing her sword down hard in riposte. Blow after blow, their weapons sang. Florence wound up her body as if she were about to lunge forward, but it was a trick, drawing the second man into overextending and leaving his grip unbalanced. With a flick of her wrist, she knocked the short sword from his hands, sending it clattering to the ground. His eyes widened, and panic crossed his face as he realized his weapon was out of reach. Florence advanced and drove the sword through the man’s chest as if she’d done the same movement a hundred times before.

Maybe she has.

He choked on a gasp, the fight leaving his body as he slumped to the ground. Florence withdrew the blade and waited for the man to join his friend in death, standing over them.

Vivienne sagged against the cave wall in awe. "Florence... you are... I mean..."

"Yes, I'm spectacular,” she dismissed, “I’m also busy right now."

Florence whipped around and stalked toward Enyo, the blood of his crew members dripping down the sword in her hand.

The coward was already retreating, his last two crewmen dragging him toward a tunnel Vivienne hadn’t noticed before.

Her sharp eyes caught the flicker of a flame kissing the end of a fuse. Her breath hitched. So, that’s their plan. They think they’re sealing us in here… They don’t know.

Showtime.

She staggered forward, her body trembling, hands outstretched in a desperate plea. “No! No, please!” she screamed, her voice cracking as she let a few well-placed tears spill down her dirt-streaked cheeks. Her frantic performance earned exactly what she wanted—Enyo’s smug, twisted grin of victory as he and his remaining men retreated into the tunnel.

BOOM!

The explosion ruptured the cavern, a violent, gut-punching force shaking the ground beneath them. A deafening roar filled the space as dust and stone crashed down from above, rattling against the rock floor in an avalanche of debris. The tunnel Enyo had escaped through was now a wall of collapsed rubble.

Silence followed, thick and absolute.

Vivienne dusted off her hands, barely concealing the smirk creeping across her lips. She glanced at the blocked passageway and let out a quiet, amused chuckle.

Florence whipped around, scowling. “Have you lost your mind? We’re trapped.”

Cirrus, groggy but no longer unconscious, let out a pained sigh. “Because the bastard doesn’t know we have another way out.”

“Cirrus!” She threw herself into his arms, squeezing him tight. Relief surged through her veins, the adrenaline finally loosening its grip.

“Ouch, Banns,” he groaned, though the familiar glint of mischief shone in his ice-blue eyes. “This might be the only time I ask you to save it for later.”

Florence rolled her eyes. “Okay, you two are cute. I get it.” She wiped the blood off Cirrus’ sword and tossed it back to him. “Now what?”

Vivienne turned toward the cavern’s towering relief of Elandra, the vines still cradling the silvery petals they had come for. Her smirk settled into something fiercer, resolute.

“Now,” she said, stepping forward, “we pick some flowers.”