Vivian had one goal: burn Seraphina's world down.
She figured Mortimer worshipped her too much to actually stay mad over some ruined flowers.
But it had been forty-eight hours of radio silence. He wasn't picking up.
"Did she get in his head? Is he really choosing her over me?" The thought made Vivian's skin crawl.
"V, drop it. You can't keep hounding him," Rolf muttered from his bed. He watched his sister vibrating with a manic, obsessive energy. "Morty's a busy man. You keep suffocating him, and eventually, he's going to snap."
"What do you know?!" Vivian shrieked. Her voice hit a frequency that could shatter glass.
"I've been hunting Mortimer since we were kids. I worked my a*s off to be his mate, and then he goes and marries that... that woman the second I'm gone? How am I suppose
