POV: Beth
We found the chaos below deck.
The restrained Navy sailor—captured three nights earlier—knelt on the planks, wrists bound, face bruised, clothes soaked in blood and salt. His eyes reflected terror and exhaustion. Crew surrounded him like wolves debating who ate first.
“He tried stealing food again,” one pirate spat. “Says he’s starving.”
“He’ll be more than starving once the sea swallows him,” another laughed.
Alaric pushed through, casual as always, blade spinning lazily in his fingers. The sailor flinched, scrambling backward though rope held him.
“Please—” he gasped. “Have mercy. I have a family—”
“Mercy?” Alaric echoed with mock curiosity. “Not a popular currency here.”
Something inside me twisted painfully. His voice from earlier echoed—You liked the power.
And maybe I had.
But this… this was different.
“He’s helpless,” I said firmly. “We can question him then release him.”
Alaric turned to me slowly. The crew’s eyes followed, tension thick as storm-cloud rope.
“You want mercy?” he asked.
“Yes,” I forced out. “We don’t need to kill him.”
Alaric stepped closer to the sailor, blade tip lifting the man’s trembling chin. “Tell me, Beth… if we let him go, what happens next? He returns to the Navy. Tells them where we’re headed. Prince sends more ships. More chains. More dungeons. Maybe they hang your father a week sooner.”
His words felt like stones.
I swallowed. “Then keep him prisoner. Or leave him somewhere far. But killing him—”
“I’m not debating morality with you.”
“Yes, we are.”
I stepped between them.
Gasps. The crew stirred like sharks scenting blood.
Alaric’s eyes narrowed dangerously—first confusion, then cold amusement. “Move.”
“No.”
A moment stretched razor-thin.
He took one slow step toward me.
I held my ground.
“If you kill him,” I said, voice shaking but loud enough for every ear, “you prove exactly what the world calls pirates—monsters.”
He tilted his head. “And if I don’t, you prove you’re no pirate at all.”
The sailor sobbed. The ship creaked like it held its breath.
Alaric leaned close—barely inches. Too much like last night. Only colder.
“This world doesn’t care about softness,” he murmured. “Mercy is a luxury of those with power. Which you don’t have.”
“Not yet.”
Something flickered in his gaze—surprise, maybe respect, maybe challenge.
Then he moved.
Too fast.
Steel flashed—one stroke—blood hit wood like spilled paint. The sailor collapsed, throat slit, life gone in seconds.
I stared at the spreading red, heartbeat a dull roar. My hands shook. My lungs forgot how to work.
“You—” My voice cracked. “You murdered him.”
Alaric wiped the blade on his coat casually. “I ended a risk.”
“You’re a monster.”
He met my gaze without flinch. “And you’re naive.”
Crew looked between us—whispering, tense. Kaine’s eyes narrowed but he said nothing. Power shifted like the deck tilted.
My vision blurred with rage and grief. “He was begging—”
“He was weak.”
Alaric stepped forward, voice low enough for only me. “Weak men try begging before betrayal.”
My hand flew before I thought.
I slapped him.
Hard.
Silence exploded through the ship. Crew froze. Even waves felt quiet.
Alaric’s head turned from the impact. Slowly. Deliberately. He looked back at me—unreadable expression under storm-dark eyes.
Not anger.
Not amusement.
Something heavier.
Dangerous.
“You done?” he asked quietly.
Tears burned hot behind my eyes. “No,” I whispered. “Not until I make you bleed like you make this world bleed.”
His jaw flexed. “Then you’ll have to grow teeth first.”
I stepped away from him, trembling. The corpse lay cooling on blood-soaked planks. I wanted to scream. Break. Run. But instead I walked to the upper deck, refusing to collapse where he could see.
The wind was sharp, tearing tears from my eyes faster than I could blink them away. Salt tasted bitter now. Heavy boots sounded behind me, but I didn’t turn.
Kaine’s voice came instead of Alaric’s. “He did what captains must.”
No accusation—simple fact.
“He didn’t have to kill him,” I whispered.
Kaine shrugged. “Soft hearts drown fastest.”
I looked back at the sea—endless, merciless.
“I won’t drown,” I whispered.
“I’ll learn to breathe underwater.”
Kaine stared a moment, then walked away.
And alone on deck, wind howling through ropes, something inside me cracked—and something else hardened.
Maybe Alaric was right.
Mercy was a luxury.
I would shape mine into a weapon.
One day soon, the prince would kneel. And if Alaric ever stood in my way—
I wasn’t sure I could forgive him either.