POV: Beth
The sky is sick with color—purple bruising into gray. Alaric stands at the bow with arms crossed, staring at the horizon like it’s whispering secrets. Pirates bustle and curse around us, readying ropes to sail. I pull my coat tighter; wind bites straight through cloth.
Kaine scoffs from beside a barrel. “Captain looks like a widow waiting for her husband.”
Alaric doesn’t even blink. “Storm’s coming.”
A few pirates laugh. Someone whistles mockingly.
Kaine folds his arms. “Sky’s clear. Wind’s gentle. Storm of your imagination, maybe.”
Alaric’s expression turns razor-sharp. “When storm swallows us, I’ll remind you you said that.”
I shift closer, curiosity burning. “How do you know?”
He glances at me quickly, then back to the horizon. “Smell it. Tension in the waves. Air tastes like iron.”
I sniff the air. Salty, cold… but metallic, yes. I swallow hard.
“You’re sure?”
“Sure enough to bet your life,” he says.
Minutes later thunder murmurs—distant at first, then closer, faster. Clouds gather like armies. Wind punches against sails so hard one rope snaps and slaps across deck. Pirates curse. Someone yells they can’t secure rigging.
Kaine’s face pales. “Shit.”
Rain arrives violent—no warning, just sheets of water drowning the deck. The harbor becomes chaos; ships pull anchors too late and capsize like toys. Waves rise like jaws.
Alaric raises his voice over roaring wind. “DROP ANCHOR! SECURE MAINSAIL! ANYONE WHO MOVES STUPIDLY WILL FEED SHARKS TODAY!”
Suddenly everyone listens. Commands fire like bullets; the crew obeys.
And for the first time—they look at him not as Alaric who returned, but Captain.
He turns to me, hair plastered to his forehead. “This is why we stay.”
I nod, soaked and breathless. “You saved us.”
He smirks slightly. “Get used to it.”
Hours pass. Rain softens into drizzle. The sea, restless but calmer, slaps quietly against wood. Pirates sit exhausted, silent—respect forming like bruises.
Kaine exhales. “Alright, Captain. You win this round.”
Alaric’s smile is sharp. “I win every round.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s unbearable.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies.
Later below deck, he calls me into the captain’s cabin. Maps cover the table, knives stabbed into wood like markers. A bottle of rum sits open. His hair is still damp, shirt unlaced.
He gestures without looking up. “Close the door.”
My heart jumps. I obey, hesitant.
He taps a map. “Tomorrow you take your first task.”
I blink. “First… task?”
“A pirate isn’t cargo,” he says. “You’ll earn your place. Or be useless.”
My stomach tightens. “What do you want me to do?”
Alaric circles the table to stand before me. Too close. His presence is a tide I can’t ignore. “Information. Listening. Negotiation.”
I frown. “Meaning?”
“You’ll go to the tavern,” he says. “Sit. Blend in. Ears open. Learn what ships come and go, who trades with the crown, where guards move. All details matter.”
“That’s dangerous.”
He steps even closer. “Everything from now on is dangerous.”
Kaine’s voice echoes from behind door wood. “If she fails, we’ll drown in stupidity.”
Alaric flicks a dagger at the door—not to hit Kaine, but close enough to shut him up. The door goes silent immediately.
I stare. “I’m not trained for spying.”
“You’re trained to survive,” Alaric says. “And desperation makes quick learners.”
I press my lips together. “And after gathering information?”
“You’ll negotiate with Varrick the merchant,” he continues. “We need medicine and powder. You will secure them—with lies, not coin.”
My breath stops. “Lie to him? Manipulate him? Like a pirate?”
“You are pirate-blooded,” he says quietly. “Time to act like it.”
“I’m not—”
He cuts me with a look. “You will be.”
I step back. “And if I fail?”
Kaine’s voice returns muffled through door: “Then she better swim quick.”
Alaric ignores him. “Tomorrow you prove you belong here.”
Fear coils sharp inside me. But something else coils too—anger. Desire. A spark.
“What if I refuse?” I challenge.
Alaric steps so close I feel heat radiate off him. “You won’t.”
“Why?”
His voice drops to a whisper. “Because you want your father. And you want revenge. And you know you can’t get either alone.”
My throat tightens. He’s right.
I inhale shakily. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
Alaric doesn’t smile—but satisfaction glimmers in his eyes like a blade edge. “Good.”
He moves past me toward the door—pauses—looks back.
“Wear a hood,” he says. “And if someone touches you— stab first, scream later.”
I swallow. “Understood.”
He opens the door. Kaine waits leaning lazily, grinning.
Kaine whistles. “Little bride gets her first mission.”
I glare. “And I’ll do it better than you expect.”
Kaine shrugs. “We expect you to panic and cry. If you don’t, we’ll be impressed.”
Heat floods my cheeks—anger, determination, shame, everything. “Then prepare to be impressed.”
Kaine laughs. “Now that’s the attitude.”
Alaric watches me with that unreadable expression—assessing, almost approving—then nods toward my hammock.
“Sleep,” he orders softly. “Tomorrow you become something else.”
I hold his gaze. “Not prey,” I whisper.
“No,” Alaric says. “Predator.”
His voice sends chills through me—not fear.
Change.