POV: Beth
By morning, the ocean was deceptively calm—blue like silk, glittering as if it hadn't swallowed men whole last night. The contrast made me sick. Beauty could lie. Serene waters could hide monsters. I was learning that fast.
I stood on deck with the crew, ropes burning fresh blisters into my palms. The salt wind stung my cheeks, but I refused to flinch. Weakness was blood to sharks among pirates.
Alaric strode along the deck like he owned the ocean, bare-chested, scars on display, eyes drinking in the horizon. A demon made of salt and swagger.
He barked orders with effortless authority.
“Trim the sails. Tides shift west. Kaine, take the helm. Beth—”
He turned. His gaze hit me like a slap.
“You’re on deck duty.”
I blinked. “Deck duty? Meaning… scrubbing? Cleaning like a servant?”
Someone snorted. Another laughed openly.
Alaric smirked. “Yes. Congratulations, princess. Your first official pirate responsibility—washing bird shit.”
Heat flooded my face hot enough to burn through skin. I clenched my fists. “I escaped a dungeon, bled in fights, crossed the sea—”
“And now,” he interrupted, “you scrub.”
Laughter erupted.
Humiliation tasted worse than salt water. Worse than fear. It hit my ribs like a kick. I dropped to my knees, grabbing brush and bucket with stiff hands. My pride screamed with every stroke as sailors stepped around me like I was invisible.
A crewman spat near my arm. “Noble blood scrubbing floors—world’s gone mad.”
I bit my tongue so hard I tasted iron. Don’t cry. Not here. Not ever again.
Hours passed. My knees bruised. Hands raw. Sweat mixed with salt until everything burned. Every time a laugh rose, it landed like a lash across my back.
Alaric watched from rail above, leaning lazily, chewing on a piece of dried fruit like this was entertainment.
Rage coiled inside me.
When I finally stood, hair sticking to my neck, shirt soaked, I faced him with shaky defiance.
“I won’t bow to you,” I said.
He stepped closer, towering, the deck swaying gently between us. “You already did.”
“I did not—”
“Oh, but you did.” He tapped my shoulder lightly. “You scrubbed my deck. You took my orders. You sailed on my ship. You rowed, princess.”
That last word sliced deeper than any blade.
I hated how much power it held over me.
“I only did what I had to survive,” I threw back.
He leaned in until I felt his breath on my cheek—hot, steady, unnerving. “Survival is the first law of pirates. You’re learning.”
Something dark flickered in his eyes—approval? amusement? cruelty? I couldn’t tell. Didn’t want to.
Kaine approached, wiping sweat. “We need heading plan, Alaric. Silas’s waters grow close.”
“Aye.” Alaric nodded once. “We follow the currents east. The hunt begins with patience.”
I crossed my arms. “And what about me? More scrubbing?”
His grin flashed sharp. “Until you fight like a pirate—yes.”
My fury snapped. “I’m not your servant. I’m here for my father. Not to polish your damn boat.”
“Oh?” his voice dropped to a slow dangerous purr, “Then leave. Swim to shore. I won’t stop you.”
Silence hit the deck like a stone.
Crew eyes swung to me.
Testing. Waiting.
If I left, I’d drown or be dragged back in chains by British hunters. If I stayed, I belonged here—
not as princess. As pirate. The realization trembled through my bones like lightning.
Leaving would prove his point. Staying meant I endured humiliation and learned to bite back.
I exhaled. “I stay.”
Alaric’s smirk widened like victory.
But something under it—faint, hidden—softened for half a heartbeat.
Approval.
“Good girl,” he said quietly.
My stomach twisted. Not in attraction. Not yet.
In fury that somehow tasted addictive.
The Kraken was out there. Silas was out there. Prince Adrian plotted. My father’s execution loomed closer each sunrise. And I—
I would not remain weak forever.
Deck under my feet. Salt in my blood. Pride torn but still burning.
This humiliation would be fuel.
One day, Alaric would choke on his laughter.
And the sea itself would bend for me.