The warehouse rose like a sleeping beast at the edge of town, all rusted steel and broken windows. No signs. No guards. Just silence.
Yet something about it hummed—a current of danger beneath the concrete and vines.
Jaxon pulled the truck off the dirt road and cut the lights. Beside him, Lena adjusted the strap of her tank top, her fingers trembling slightly.
"You sure about this?" he asked.
Lena's eyes were fire. "They hunted us. Now we hunt back."
From the backseat, Ivy and Cameron climbed out, flashlights off, knives tucked into their pockets. Mira stayed in the truck, watching the building like it might breathe.
Jaxon gave her one last look.
"Mira stays with the car," he said.
Lena nodded. "Let's move."
They slipped through a side entrance, stepping into darkness.
The warehouse interior was a maze of crates, cables, and shadows. Ivy ran her fingers over the floor — dust. Untouched for days. But cameras blinked above, low and red.
"They're watching," Ivy whispered.
"We let them," Lena said, a smirk curling at her lips. "Let them know we're not afraid."
Jaxon grabbed her wrist, pulled her close. "Don't tempt them."
"I'm not tempting them," Lena breathed, their faces inches apart.
Their lips hovered — too close, too dangerous. Jaxon's grip tightened for just a second, then loosened.
"We'll finish that later," he growled.
In another corridor, Cameron and Ivy moved in tandem.
"I can't believe we're doing this," Cameron muttered.
"You volunteered," Ivy said, her voice sharp.
"Only because I don't trust Jaxon alone with Lena."
Ivy stopped walking. "You jealous?"
Cameron hesitated. "Are you?"
Ivy turned to him, her breath hot in the cool dark. "Maybe."
They stared at each other—too long. The tension between them always smoldered, buried beneath sarcasm and distrust. Now, it cracked wide open.
He kissed her.
Hard.
She didn't stop him.
Hands against the wall, fingers tangled in his shirt, her hips pressing forward.
It was fast, hot, and electric.
But as suddenly as it started, Ivy pulled back.
"We're not doing this," she gasped.
"Too late," he whispered.
"No," Ivy said, panting. "We don't know who's watching."
And from somewhere in the rafters…
someone was.
Meanwhile, outside in the truck, Mira gripped the steering wheel.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown
"You shouldn't have let them go in alone."
🕊️
Her heart froze.
Another text.
"But don't worry. We like you better when you're scared."
She looked up, headlights off, hands trembling.
And saw it.
Across the field.
A single figure.
Watching her from the tree line.
Dressed in black.
Face hidden.
Holding a red feather.
Mira screamed.
Inside, Lena reached the center of the warehouse — a circle of spotlights, hanging like interrogation bulbs.
Something glinted in the center.
A phone.
A burner.
She stepped toward it, breath quickening.
Then the voice came.
Low. Modulated.
Through hidden speakers.
"What a lovely cage you've wandered into, little bird."
Jaxon spun, pulling his blade. "Show yourself!"
The voice laughed.
"You want a name? A face?
Names are weapons. Faces are masks.
But secrets… secrets are the currency of survival."
Lena stepped into the light. "What do you want?"
"I already have what I want," the voice replied. "But it's always more fun… watching you tear it apart."
Suddenly — lights flared.
Shutters slammed shut.
A countdown appeared on the screen above them.
3:00
2:59
2:58
"Move!" Ivy shouted.
They ran, breathless, weaving through the crates, dodging falling debris.
Lena's tank top tore as she vaulted a stack of boxes. Jaxon grabbed her hand mid-run, pulling her toward the exit.
Ivy and Cameron reached the side door first — locked.
Then Jaxon slammed into it with his shoulder.
It burst open.
They tumbled out into the night—panting, scratched, drenched in sweat.
Behind them, the warehouse exploded.
Fire erupted from the roof.
And with it, the symbol burned in the flames:
🕊️
Sparrow had set the trap.
And they had survived.
Barely.
Back at the Beach Shack
Later that night, bloodied and breathless, they reunited.
Mira sobbed into Ivy's arms.
Cameron sat beside the fire, silent and shell-shocked.
Lena stepped into the ocean, letting the waves lick the soot from her skin.
Jaxon followed her.
"You should rest," he said.
"I can't," Lena whispered. "Not when it feels like we're already dead."
He pulled her close, chest against her back.
She turned in his arms.
And kissed him.
Slow this time. Deep. Lingering.
Her hands gripped his shirt, his fingers slid under the waistband of her shorts.
They didn't speak.
Just touched.
Like the world might burn again and they'd rather go with it.