CASPIAN
Watching Blackwell settle into battle mode is a sight to behold. I have to remind myself to pay attention to everything else, and not just drool over the pirate captain commanding his ship like it’s as easy as breathing.
I pull out my pistols as we sail around and our port cannons fire again.
Malik’s ship has slowed and stalled in the water—we must have hit her rudder.
We pull up alongside the vessel. Gunfire and the sound of grapples thudding into wood carries over the space between the ships.
Our crew surges over and the loud cacophony of fighting escalates.
Between the mist and the smoke from all the gunfire, visibility is low.
I swing across to Malik’s ship, determined to put an end to this nightmare.
I’m immediately rushed by two of his crew and I use up both my shots to drop them.
I draw my cutlass and move fluidly through the melee, falling into the trance of close combat.
The fighting naturally pushes me towards the quarterdeck.
Harrison is backed up against the steps engaged with two men—Van rushes to help.
I turn to see Blackwell on the other side.
My nerves lurch into my throat as I watch him fight.
He’s brutal and ruthless—he has no formal training but it doesn’t make him any less efficient.
I see a man raise his pistol on Blackwell’s blind side and without a second thought send a knife flying across the space.
It hits the man in the throat and he falls, the gun going off harmlessly into the rigging.
Blackwell looks up and I only have a second to meet his gaze before I’m forced to dodge to avoid a swing of a blade.
I cut the man down and step to the side—not a moment too soon as I hear a whistle of air and feel the burn of a cut across my neck.
A dagger—I look up at the quarterdeck and spot Malik, eyes on fire as he glares at me.
He throws another and I bat it away with my sword, running towards the stairs.
“Malik.”
“Caspian—” Malik sneers. “I didn’t know you were such good friends with pirate scum. Although—” He pulls another dagger and instead of throwing it at me, I see his eyes drift to below us where Blackwell is engaged on the main deck. “I think it might be something more than that.”
“No!” I throw myself at him.
We collide just as he lets the blade fly.
I don’t get a chance to see where it lands before we roll across the deck.
The ship is starting to list and our momentum takes us to the rail.
I scramble to my feet and rush him with cutlass drawn.
We come together with the ring of steel, and duel across the small quarterdeck.
He’s a decent fighter, I’ll give him that much, but I’m better.
I attack and we lock together, crashing into the helm.
“My little prince,” Malik mocks. “I trained you well I see—still finding pleasure like I taught you.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snarl.
I try to fight the shadows his words trigger, but I can’t—
The knife slams into the eye of the stuffed target across the room. Another follows it—then another—each one intensifying with force until I’m panting with exertion. The target blurs and my cheeks are wet.
“You’re scary accurate with those.”
I hastily dash my sleeve across my face, hopefully hiding my moment of weakness, hoping it will just come across as sweat.
I turn to see Thaddeus leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest. I don’t answer.
Instead, I turn back and send my last blade flying where it sinks into the target flush up against the others.
“Is it him?” Thaddeus asks.
Of course it’s him. I walk across the stretch of floor and yank the knives out, realizing my arm is trembling with how long I’ve been at this. My chest feels tight and the anxiety that accompanies the memories slowly rises to choke me. It’s been a few years and yet it feels like yesterday—
Thaddeus’ hand descends on my shoulder and I stiffen, wanting to throw him off but also really wishing I didn’t feel like that. I recognize I’m touch starved, I want comfort so badly but I can’t bring myself to accept it.
“I saw a certain young noble furiously stalking the gardens this morning,” Thaddeus says dryly. “He came from your room.”
I frown but Thaddeus’ hand drops and I turn to face him.
“What if—” My voice is rough. “What if the reason I like what I like is because of him ?”
Thaddeus’ mouth presses into a thin line before he shakes his head.
“Don’t give him so much credit,” he says dryly.
“You don’t ever do anything you don’t want to do, Caspian.
This is no different. Who you choose to find pleasure in—who you choose to love even, has nothing to do with that disgusting fucker.
” Thaddeus' eyes grow dark with barely contained hatred. “One day you’ll be rid of his shadow—and when that day comes, I want you to take one of your knives and gut that sick bastard. You understand? He took something from you that can only be reclaimed through blood—”
The ship dips hard to port pulling me back from my memory. Malik uses it, and my momentary distraction, to bring his knee up to my side at the same time he pulls a dagger with his other hand and tries to stab me with it.
I move but not fast enough. I barely register the pain as the blade slices through my shirt and glides across my skin, not stabbing but not missing me either. The warm blood flows down my side. We break apart again and Malik sneers as he catches his breath.
“I remember the sounds your sister made—just like you—fighting the truth—”
The rage is indescribable. I shake my head and bare my teeth at him.
“Don’t fucking speak of her,” I snarl.
My voice is breathless as I suck in air and launch myself across the deck.
A few moves and I land a vicious cut across his chest and sword arm.
He falls to his knee but lashes out, and I stumble backwards.
The deck dips again, putting the angle of the deck at a perilous degree and I find myself sliding backwards.
Malik uses the downward slope to barrel into me and he sends my sword flying.
We connect and slam so hard into the rail I’m momentarily breathless—then there’s nothing but open air as we careen over the side.
My stomach drops as everything falls out from under me.
My back hits the water amidst debris and broken planks. Malik lands on top of me and we submerge. Immediately we churn the surface into a frothing red foam. Ropes tangle around us as we each try to gain the upper hand. He shoves me down under the water and holds me there.
I struggle, striking him wherever I can.
I’m choking on water but my rage consumes me.
I break free and gasp in a breath before I lunge for him.
My arm goes around his throat. I lay back, pull us under and focus everything I have on choking him.
I barely have time to inhale one last breath before the thrashing sends us down into the depths.
I let us sink. I feel him inhale water, and focus on his body’s last convulsing efforts to breathe.
I wait a moment longer—my lungs are burning.
I release him with one arm and fumble for a dagger in my belt.
I slide it under his ribs and viciously gut him, watching the water quickly grow murky with blood—I have to be sure.
I let go, watching him sink into the depths.
Using my last molecule of oxygen to revel in the blurry vision of my tormenter disappearing into the shadows.
I surge towards the light, gulping in air as I break the surface.
I wipe my eyes clear, choking and coughing as I get my bearings.
Malik’s ship is fully engulfed in flames and the listing of the ship is so extreme, her deck is empty of all activity. Bodies float in the water between the ships and I watch a dark fin cut through the debris. Time to go.
The Tempest has moved a few yards further from the wreckage but is still close and I swim over to a rope hanging over the side. Hauling myself to the deck, I wipe water off my face, still struggling to catch my breath. My mind can’t process what this all means yet—
Everything hurts. My back is throbbing and I have no idea what is blood and what is water running off me. Van hurries over and I throw an arm around his shoulder.
“Hey mate, good to see you in one piece,” I pant.
“Jesus, Caspian, what happened?”
I give Van a smile but I think it’s more of a grimace. “Just feeding the sharks, Van.”
“Sharks?” Van hauls me below towards my cabin. “I told you they were a bad omen—”
I tune him out, replaying the vision of Malik sinking into the dark unknown, replacing it with every bad touch, every whispered word.
It won’t ever erase what he’s done, or bring my sister back, but it makes me feel like he doesn’t have control over me.
Thaddeus’ words replay in my head, finishing out the conversation from my earlier memory.
“One day, you’ll get to watch him die and I hope you use that to heal. I hope you use that to take back all the power he thought he could take.”
I have control now—the man who’s tormented my nightmares, and who made me suffer again by his hand, is gone.
Luckily, I hadn’t let the doubts about the origin of my sexuality stop me growing up—Thaddeus had been pretty adamant that it wasn’t something that man controlled.
But I realize now, that I think a part of me had continued to carry that doubt around with me .
I’d shoved it away and ignored it, but maybe what I needed to do was give it more compassion instead of giving it another mask to wear.
Van kicks the door of my cabin open. I extract myself from him and perch on the edge of the table. I gingerly peel off my shirt, biting back a hiss of pain as it aggravates literally every injury I have. Van whistles low as he takes in my general state.
“I’m going to go get some supplies,” he says.
“You do that,” I grumble.
I pour myself a shot of rum, attempting to stop the tremor in my hands.
It doesn’t help much. I grab my shirt and start to dab at all the wounds, feeling my back pull and burn as the salt dries.
My thoughts drift to Blackwell and I’m torn between waiting for Van to get back and leaving to go look for my pirate.
My pirate. Yeah, there’s no denying that anymore.
He’s stuck with me through some dark shit, even volunteering to fight my demons for me—something I didn’t even really have time to swoon over but now that I’m thinking about it is driving me insane with how hot it is.
What’s between us is possessive and more than a little dangerous but damn it if I’m not already addicted.