POV: Beth
“You are a snake.”
Alaric’s words slice through the deck louder than cannon fire. Every man freezes mid-breath. Even the ocean seems to still, waves hesitating as though waiting for blood to spill. Mira stands in the center of it all—cornered animal wrapped in a woman’s skin. Her lips tremble, though I can’t tell if it’s fear or fury, or both braided together like rope.
For a heartbeat, she tries to pretend. Her eyes glisten, lashes trembling like a broken doll. “Alaric… please. You know me. I-I saved your life. I stayed when others fled. I—”
“You sold us,” I cut in. My voice is cold enough to crack. “For a crown that was never yours.”
Her gaze snaps to me with venom. No tears now—only hatred. It blooms across her face like rot. She finally drops the act—no sweetness, no innocence—only sharp animal glare.
“So what?” she hisses. “You think you deserve the throne? The crew? His attention?” Her voice rises like storm wind, mocking. “A noble girl who ran from ballroom to pirate deck thinking she’s special—because what? A sword chose her? Magic licked her palms?”
The deck erupts with whispers, sailors shifting uncertainly. My heart punches ribs, but I don’t step back. I won’t give her ground. Not anymore.
Alaric moves first.
Not with blade—but with command in his voice. “Karn. Bind her.”
Mira lunges back, wild. “Touch me and I slit your throat!” She flashes steel—small knife but fast. Quicker than I expected. Kaine blocks her path, sword drawn. Clove drops from rigging like feral cat, landing behind her. Three blades trap her like jaws.
But Mira does not surrender. She laughs.
It’s not an amused sound. It’s broken glass. “You all think she won’t ruin you?” She jabs a finger at me. “Look at her—Beth with the sea’s blood. Storm Bride. Leviathan’s chosen. She’ll drown us all.”
Silence slams down heavy. Crew looks at me like I’m distant thunder—beautiful but deadly. Some with fear. Some with awe. All unsure.
My throat tightens. I don’t flinch. “I never betrayed any of you.”
Mira snarls, voice raw with jealousy. “You stole everything. His eyes. His crew. His destiny. You walk into the sea like it’s your cradle. You hold the sword like you were born queen!”
Sword at my hip hums—faint but real—as though agreeing.
Mira notices my hand tighten around its hilt. She steps back, toward railing. “You think love will save you? Alaric will choose power when tide turns. Kings don’t love—they take.” Her eyes cut to him, pleading but poisoned. “You told me once—passion makes men weak, and weakness kills kings.”
Alaric stills. His jaw clenches—guilt or anger or memory.
“Mira,” he warns.
She smiles, victory-soft—then flips. “You said you’d never kneel for anyone, yet look at you—dancing like a fool around her. You’ll burn for it.”
Kaine curses. Clove mutters, “Someone shut her up already.”
Crew edges closer—some with ropes, some with weapons. No one wants to kill her, but no one trusts her breathing.
I look at her—really look. Behind venom there’s pain. Loneliness. A girl who wanted to matter. But her wanting hurts others. And if pity rules me now, it will kill us.
I step forward slowly. Mira’s eyes flicker fear for first true time.
“You chose the wrong enemy,” I say softly.
She bares teeth. “No. I chose the only rival worth destroying.”
And then—chaos shifts.
Cannons thrum in distance—low, not fired, just present. British Navy ships reposition like sharks circling bleeding prey. They aren’t attacking yet—watching instead, waiting for weakness. Waiting for us to tear ourselves apart.
Mira follows my glance and smirks, pride glowing like poison. “If I jump, the Navy will take me in with open arms. I’ll lead them back here, and they’ll burn your precious King of Pirates beside your water-witch queen.”
Alaric growls. “You won’t leave this ship alive.”
Her smile widens—unhinged. “Try and stop me.”
She moves—just a flash—kicks sand-barrel, blinds Kaine. Clove swings and misses as she ducks under arm. Karn curses, slipping on spilled water. She races for railing—fast as storm wind. I sprint after her, heart hammering. Too late? Maybe.
But she turns one last time—eyes on Alaric, full of heartbreak and hate tangled together.
“You were supposed to choose me,” she whispers.
Then she leaps.
I reach railing in time to see her hit water like silver coin, vanish beneath waves. Two sailors throw ropes but she dives deep, swimming like seal, fast, desperate. Navy boats lower skiffs, rushing toward her. She’s heading straight into their arms.
Crew erupts—shouting curses, confusion, fear. Men run to cannons, others to sails. Karn swears we should fire. Kaine says it’s waste of powder. Clove yells to chase. Alaric roars for silence, voice cracking like whip.
But silence doesn’t come—chaos hangs heavy, thick with betrayal’s aftertaste.
My lungs burn—not from running but from the weight of it. Betrayal always tastes like iron.
Alaric stands beside me, rain-mist gathering in hair. His face carved stone, but eyes… eyes are wounded animal trying not to bleed. He looks at horizon where Mira disappears—where Navy waits like vultures.
“Beth,” he says quietly.
I turn.
He isn’t looking at the Navy.
He’s looking at me.
As though everything Mira said tremors inside him. As though he’s terrified I might betray him one day too. That sword at my hip might not just save ships—but sink them.
And crew watches us both—waiting to see if we break or bind.
I step closer, voice steady despite quaking heart. “You saw truth today. I don’t want your throne. I want my life. My choices.”
He swallows—throat bobbing.
“I know,” he murmurs, barely audible.
Behind us sailors reload weapons. Others steer ship away from narrow death. Waves crash against hull, loud, angry, restless—like ocean is impatient for what comes next.
Alaric looks where Mira vanished.
“She was a snake from beginning,” he says louder—his voice a sentence, a burial, a truth carved into sea itself.
Crew hears. No one questions anymore.