POV: Beth
We steal the ship at dawn, when the port is still half-drunk and half-asleep.
Mist clings to the harbor, curling between moored hulls like ghosts who never left. Alaric moves through it like he owns every shadow. Kaine and Bram follow behind him, knives already loose, steps too quiet for men their size. I trail them, heart pounding so loudly it feels like it should give us away.
“This one,” Alaric decides, nodding toward a sleek brig with black-painted sides and fresh canvas folded neat against the mast. “Fast, lean, angry. I like her.”
“You like her because she’ll outrun navy ships,” Kaine mutters.
“That too.”
My palms sweat. “We’re just going to… take it?”
Alaric flashes me an infuriating smile. “Congratulations, princess. You’ve reached the ‘steal entire vessels’ part of your education.”
He gestures sharply and the crew melts into position—Riva up toward the gangplank, Bram slipping beneath the dock supports, Niall vanishing around the far side. I try to step where they step, breathe when they breathe. My legs shake anyway.
A sleepy guard slumps near the gangplank, musket across his lap. Alaric doesn’t hesitate. His hand covers the man’s mouth, knife flashing once. The guard slumps soundlessly. My stomach lurches.
“You said we’d avoid killing when possible,” I whisper.
Alaric wipes his blade on the dead man’s coat. “This is ‘not possible.’ Move.”
We climb aboard. The deck groans under our weight, but no alarm rises. The crew moves fast now, practiced. Ropes loosen, knots sever, anchor line freed. My fingers fumble when I try to mimic them.
Kaine snarls, “Faster, Beth. The sun’s not going to wait while you pet the rope.”
“I’m trying,” I hiss.
“Try quieter.”
Alaric takes the helm as if he’s been waiting his whole life to touch it. His hands settle on the wheel and something changes in his face—less mocking, more focused. He barks orders, every word sharp.
“Loosen fore-sail! Raise main! Beth, with Riva. Learn or drown!”
Riva drags me toward the rigging. “Up,” she snaps.
I stare up the mast, dizzy. “Up there?”
“Yes, up there. You have legs, don’t you?”
Wind whips at my hair as I climb, knuckles white around the rope. My body screams, but I haul myself higher, following Riva’s motions. She shows me how to unfurl canvas, how to tie off lines so they don’t snap loose in wind.
“You pull, you lock, you pray,” she mutters. “In that order.”
The ship eases away from the dock like it’s exhaling. Shouts rise from the pier as someone finally notices us, but by then the current has us. Sails billow, catching wind; the stolen brig surges forward.
“Faster!” Alaric calls.
We cut through waves, leaving an angry port behind. Musket shots crack from shore, splashing water near the hull. I flinch. Alaric only laughs, steering us straight into open sea.
By the time we clear cannon range, my arms feel like they might fall off. I slide down the rigging gracelessly, landing hard on the deck. My legs wobble but hold.
“You didn’t fall,” Alaric notes lazily.
“Yet,” I mutter, breathless.
He glances at the spread sails, the angle of the hull, the way the wind hits canvas. “She handles well. We keep her. Name her later.”
Kaine wipes sweat from his brow. “What’s her name now?”
Alaric shrugs. “Stolen.”
Laughter ripples across the deck, easing tension. My heart still pounds, but there’s a fierce spark inside it—terror and exhilaration tangled together. I helped steal a ship. I didn’t collapse. I didn’t freeze. I survived.
Hours later, the port is a dark smear on the horizon behind us. The sea stretches endless ahead, shifting blues and grays, whitecaps tipping wave crests. Alaric lets the wheel rest easy, but his eyes never stop moving.
Riva leans on the rail. “You’ll take a watch turn tonight, Beth. Learn to spot rocks, reefs, and idiots.”
“I can see idiots just fine in daylight,” I say.
She snorts. “Good start.”
When she drifts away, I climb the steps to the helm. The wind is colder up here. The view is wider, terrifying and beautiful both.
Alaric doesn’t look at me when I reach him. “You’re walking steadier,” he says.
“Because my legs gave up on shaking,” I reply. “They’re too tired.”
“Exhaustion: nature’s cure for panic.”
I study him for a moment. On land he looks wild, dangerous. At the wheel he looks like something else entirely—an axis the ship spins around, part of the sea rather than trespassing on it.
“Tell me about the kings of the sea,” I say.
He goes still for a fraction of a second. “No.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
He finally glances at me, annoyed. “There were three once. You already know that. You know I was one of them. You know Silas took the waters I left empty. What more do you think you deserve?”
“Deserve?” I bristle. “I’m risking my life out here too.”
“You’re breathing. That’s not the same as risking.”
Anger pricks hot under my skin. “Why did you disappear? Why did you end up in Adrian’s dungeon? A pirate king doesn’t simply… vanish.”
His jaw tightens. “Drop it.”
I step closer, stubbornness overriding sense. “Did Silas betray you? Did the British capture you at sea? Did someone trade you for gold like they tried to trade me?”
His hand tightens on the wheel. Knuckles go white. “Beth.”
“Did you surrender?” I push, voice rising. “Did you get careless, or—”
He spins so fast I stumble back. The wheel slams in place, wood creaking under his grip.
“Enough,” he snaps.
The word cracks across the deck.
I freeze.
His eyes are darker than storms, more dangerous than any blade. “Do not dig in my past like it’s a story told for your entertainment.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were,” he bites out. “You think because you’ve bled a little you are owed every scar on my body?”
Hurt flares. “I just want to understand the man I’ve thrown my future on!”
“Understand this then,” he growls, stepping closer, voice low and lethal. “Ask again, and I’ll throw you overboard and let the sea answer you.”
The threat punches the air from my lungs. My heart stutters. I stare at him, stunned. For a moment I see not the man who helped me escape, not the reluctant comfort in the dark, but the brutal king everyone whispered about with fear.
I swallow, throat tight. “You’d really do that?”
His gaze doesn’t waver. “I’ve killed for less.”
Silence stretches, sharp as broken glass. The crew pretends not to listen, but I feel their attention hooked on us like fish.
My chest burns. I step back slowly, fingers curling into fists. “You don’t owe me answers,” I say, voice shaking. “I understand.”
“Good,” he says. “Keep understanding.”
I turn away before he can see the sting in my eyes. The sea wind licks them dry quickly, leaving only salt.
Fine. He wants walls? I can build my own.
If he won’t speak, I’ll learn the truth from someone else.
Even if that someone is his greatest enemy.
The stolen brig drives forward, carrying us toward unanswered storms.