POV: Beth
Night crept in slow and heavy. Lanterns swayed overhead, their glow blurring through salt-haze. I sat scrubbing rust from my blade, fingers aching, forearm bandaged tightly. Each movement drew pain—a reminder of the morning. A reminder that I was still alive despite how many wanted otherwise.
Voices drifted through cracked floorboards below.
“I say we toss her. Whole crew sleeps better,” one muttered.
“No noble girl aboard when Silas learns,” another hissed. “He’ll feed us to Kraken one by one.”
A third voice snickered. “Bet she screams pretty when water fills her lungs.”
My heart slammed against ribs. Sweat chilled my back. I leaned over the hatch just enough to see them—three pirates hunched over rum, knives glinting in their belts. Eyes mean. Hands twitching with cruel hunger.
They would do it. Not maybe.
Soon.
I backed away silently, pulse a hurricane. My feet moved before thought formed. Down the passage. Past barrels and ropes. Straight to Alaric’s cabin. I didn’t knock—shoved the door open.
He sat at the desk, candlelight carving gold across his jaw. He looked up slowly, expression lazy.
“Lost, princess?”
“They’re planning to kill me.” My voice cracked. Damn it.
He didn’t stand. Didn’t frown. Just took a long, slow drink of rum. “Which ones?”
I blinked. “You’re not… concerned?”
“If a crew wants to kill you,” he said, leaning back, “then either they fear you or they think you’re useless. Solve whichever one is true.”
I stared, disbelief burning into anger. “You’re the captain. Stop them.”
One brow rose. “No.”
Rage exploded hot in my stomach. “Why?”
He stood then. The chair scraped. His presence became the room itself—big, tense, electric.
“If I fight all your battles,” he said, stepping closer, “you remain prey. A trembling girl in silk dreams of gardens and wedding bells.” His eyes locked with mine. “I don’t need a bride. I need a pirate at my back.”
“I didn’t ask to be a pirate,” I spat.
His breath brushed my cheek. “The sea doesn’t care.”
My pulse thundered. “So I just wait for them to slit my throat?”
His voice dropped to dangerous velvet. “No. You stop them.”
The fury inside me rose like a tide.
“You want me to kill them?” I whispered.
He tilted his head. “Or scare them so badly they regret survival.”
His finger lifted—slow, taunting—tracing just beneath my chin, tilting my face up. The touch was light, infuriatingly casual. Heat raced down my spine, anger blooming brighter.
He smirked. “Seems you like a challenge.”
I slapped his hand away so hard the sound cracked through the cabin.
His eyes widened—surprised—then something darker flickered. Interest.
“Don’t touch me,” I hissed.
He stepped even closer, chest nearly brushing mine, voice lower. “Or what? You’ll bleed on me like this morning?”
I wanted to scream. To break something. To grab him by the collar and—
I shoved him. Hard.
His back hit the desk edge. He caught himself, laughter low and wicked.
“There she is,” he murmured. “Fight in your eyes.”
I trembled—with rage, humiliation, and something terrifyingly close to exhilaration.
“I won’t die quietly,” I said. “And I won’t bow to you.”
His gaze softened for just a breath. Barely visible. A crack in armor. Then gone.
“Good,” he said.
He turned his back and walked toward the door.
I almost demanded he stay. Or demanded he protect me. Or demanded… something else entirely.
But I swallowed the words.
Because he was right.
If I couldn’t face three drunken pirates, how would I ever face Silas? The Kraken? Prince Adrian?
No. Weakness would drown me before the sea had the chance.
Outside, waves slammed against hull like war drums. Crew shadows danced across deck, laughing, oblivious.
I clutched my knife.
Tomorrow, I would show them I was not prey.
I would bite like saltwater in a wound.
I would earn my place in blood if I had to.
Because every night I survived was one day closer to saving Rowan.
And every drop of fear burned into anger shaped me sharper.
I would not be thrown overboard.
I would learn to throw others first.