Chapter 23 Maximus
Maximus
“Tell him, Sage! Back me up!” Ariella’s voice rang through the galley with all the subtlety of a cannon blast.
I rolled my eyes then glanced, once again, out to the main dining area where Kaspar sat with Willy, eating breakfast. His head tilted up at the commotion, our eyes meeting briefly.
He thought I was ridiculous, poking my head out every few seconds, but the goofy grin he flashed me this time was an additional reward that only encouraged me.
Sage stirred a massive pot of porridge, his expression neutral as always. “It’s true, Reaper. Most of us would stand with you. It’s mainly Butcher’s lot that wouldn’t.”
“Not you too,” I groaned, leaning against the counter. “I thought at least you’d be sensible.”
Sage shrugged, continuing his methodical stirring. “I’m just stating facts. The crew respects you.”
Over the past few days, Ariella had taken any opportunity to ambush me with her ambitions of mutiny. A mutiny led by me. A mutiny I wanted no part in.
I didn’t escape one tyrant just to become another.
Ariella crossed her arms. “We’d finally have a proper captain in charge. Fair. Just.”
Captain. Years ago, it was all I ever wanted. Even now, some small part of my brain latched onto the word, unfurling like wings long kept folded. The familiar rush of ambition, of purpose—then the immediate crash as reality clipped those wings.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t want to be captain of a fucking pirate ship, Ariella!”
“Well, it’s not all about what you want, is it?”
Sage glanced between us, brandishing his spoon as if he might need to intervene.
To reduce the tension bubbling inside of me, I stepped into the doorway again. The moment Kaspar spotted me, he threw his hands up in exasperation, his lips forming a silent, ‘Really?’ before returning to his conversation with Willy.
Heat crept up my neck as I turned back to find Sage’s eyebrows drawn together, his assessing gaze piercing me.
Damn it. I was getting sloppy. I needed to be more careful.
“What?” I growled, trying to recover some semblance of my Reaper persona.
Sage’s mouth twitched. “Nothing.” He lifted the massive pot from the stove. “For what it’s worth, Reaper, I’ve always thought you’d make a damn sight better captain than that imbecile we’re currently cursed with.”
I dragged a hand down my face.
“Hawk-Eyes, Moonie, Sparrow, Stitches,” Ariella counted off on her fingers, eyes bright with excitement. “They’re all ready to move on your order.”
“Stitches?! She’s a bloody old woman, for crying out loud!”
“Oi!”
I whirled around to find Stitches herself barging through the galley door, arms akimbo and face thunderous. Before I could react, she delivered a light slap to my cheek.
“Watch your mouth, or I won’t be whipping up any more of that salve for you anytime soon.” She jabbed a finger into my chest. “I’m as fit as a fiddle!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Fit enough to take Butcher’s men in a fight?”
“In my sleep!” she said cheerily, helping herself to a large bowl of gruel.
“You don’t worry about us, Reaper. We all chose this life, didn’t we?
Every soul aboard this vessel knew what they were signing up for when they stepped onto a pirate ship.
Risk comes with the territory.” She slurped a spoonful, then pointed it at me.
“Some of us are just tired of taking unnecessary risks because our captain’s an incompetent buffoon with an ego bigger than his ridiculous hat. ”
Sage coughed into his fist, poorly disguising a laugh.
“Besides,” Stitches continued, “I’ve patched up enough wounds on this ship to know exactly where to stab for maximum effect and minimal bleeding.” She winked and shuffled toward the door. “Just think about it, Reaper. That’s all we’re asking.”
Stitches left as swiftly as she’d entered. All of a sudden, the weight of the crew’s expectations pressed down on me, and I slumped against the counter, exhaustion washing over me before the day had even started.
Ariella moved to follow her, but I caught her arm, dragging her in close.
“Remember, don’t let Ghost out of your sight,” I whispered.
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yes, yes, I know. The same as yesterday, and the day before that.” She pulled her arm free with exaggerated effort.
“I’ve heard it a million times now. You know I’ll keep him safe.
But you might want to be a bit less obvious about your… concern. People are starting to talk.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, what do you mean? People aren’t blind, Reaper! You’ve been following him like a shadow. And it’s not going to be long until they notice he’s somehow not in his hammock every single morning. Plus, it doesn’t help that Ghost practically drools whenever you walk by.”
A tiny groan escaped me. “How bad is it?”
“I’ve been doing damage control. I’ve been telling everyone that him and Willy are totally a thing.”
Resisting the urge to tell Ariella that Willy was probably devastated by that lie—because I really didn’t have time for crew romance gossip today—I released her, trailing out of the galley behind her.
A knot of crew members stood huddled near the mainmast—Butcher among them. The moment they spotted me, their conversation died.
Kaspar, still seated with Willy, had his head thrown back in laughter. His eyes sought mine with that familiar warmth that had become my anchor.
I forced my gaze forward, jaw clenched, and marched past without acknowledging him, a knife twisting in my gut.
The morning crawled by in agonizing slowness. I threw myself into work, helping Patty inspect the cannons along the port side.
When we finished, I climbed to the observation deck, leaning against the railing to stare out at the endless expanse of clouds.
The wind whipped around me, carrying the scent of rain and open sky.
Usually, this view calmed me—the vastness making my problems seem small and manageable.
Today, it only emphasized how trapped I felt.
A sharp tug on my pant leg pulled me from my thoughts. I looked down to find Sprocket, the vexling’s amber eyes glowing with urgency. They cocked their head to one side, ears twitching, then scurried toward the hatch leading below deck.
“What is it?” I asked, following as they led me down ladders and through narrow passageways until we reached the engine room.
The heat hit me first—always several degrees warmer here than anywhere else on the ship. Mad Murray stood hunched over his workbench, grease-stained hands tinkering with some contraption.
“You wanted me?” I asked.
Murray looked up, his face grim beneath his wild, soot-streaked beard. “Aye. Got some bad news, Reaper.” He wiped his hands on a rag that might have once been white. “Viper just came to see me.”
My blood ran ice cold.
Murray sighed, running a hand through his wild hair.
“I’ve been doing what we agreed—making up technical problems, telling him the rig needs recalibration, that the flux conduits aren’t aligned properly.
” He tossed a wrench onto his workbench with a clatter.
“Told him yesterday the energy transfer matrix was showing microfractures that needed reinforcing. Day before that, I claimed the primary extraction nodes were misaligned.”
“And he believed all that?”
“Until this morning.” Murray’s shoulders slumped. “Viper lost his patience. Stormed in here ranting. Said it couldn’t possibly be that complicated to build a simple extraction rig.”
I gripped the edge of the workbench, my knuckles turning white. “What happened?”
“He pushed me aside, took one look at the setup, and declared it ready for use.” Murray shook his head. “The man knows as much about flux engineering as a sea serpent knows about needlepoint, but try telling him that.”
“But what about our plan to persuade Viper that if we rush this and fry Ghost, we’ve lost him? For good.”
Murray shrugged helplessly. “You know what Viper’s like. Once he’s decided he’s right, there’s no use arguing. Might as well try to convince a hurricane to blow in another direction.”
Though the winds were steady, the ship seemed to tilt beneath my feet. “So what does this mean? When does he want to plug him in?”
“I think you better go find out.”
I wasted no time racing up both ladders and across the deck.
At Viper’s door, I paused, bracing one hand against the frame to catch my breath.
My fingers traced the intricate carvings—dragons coiled around each other, their tails forming an endless knot.
The wood felt smooth beneath my touch, polished by years of nervous hands just like mine.
My fingers flexed at my sides as I drew in a deep breath, preparing for the confrontation ahead.
This wouldn’t be easy. Viper was volatile on his best days, and lately, his moods had been as unpredictable as storm winds.
Never before had so much hinged on a single conversation with him—not just my future, but Kas’s very life balanced on whatever words I could summon.
I squared my shoulders, adjusted my stance to minimize the pressure on my prosthetic, and knocked three times before entering.
Viper was hunched over his desk, maps and papers sprawled across its surface. The golden afternoon light streaming through the window caught on his hat, casting long shadows across his face.
“Captain,” I said with a curt nod.
Viper looked up, his dark eyes glinting. “Reaper! I was just about to summon you.”
Something in his tone made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Oh?” I kept my voice neutral, betraying none of the dread pooling in my gut.
“Good news.” He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. “We’re out of the wastelands this evening. But even better news, the preparations for the fluxweaver are complete.”
Our eyes locked, and though his words were casual, something lurked beneath his expression—a predatory gleam that set off warning bells in my mind. His lips curled into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and I realized with chilling certainty that Viper suspected something.
I maintained my composure, my years of fleet training helping me keep my face impassive despite the panic rising within me. “That’s… efficient,” I said carefully.
Viper’s eyes narrowed, his gaze slithering over me like something cold and venomous. “Turns out these things aren’t so complicated, after all.” He gestured to a crude diagram on his desk. “You don’t seem glad, Reaper?”
I forced a smile, muscles tight across my face. “You know my concerns about rushing the process. We don’t want to lose this gift that dropped into our laps due to impatience.”
“Oh, aye?” Viper leaned forward, his chair creaking under his weight. “I wondered if it had anything to do with losing the boy warming your bed.”
The words knocked the wind from my lungs.
My smile froze, then fractured.
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. The ship’s timbers groaned around us as blood pounded in my ears, a deafening rhythm that matched the sudden hammering of my heart. Every instinct screamed at me to deny it, to protect Kaspar, to shield what we had from Viper’s corrupting touch.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry as desert sand. My thoughts entered freefall, desperately searching for solid ground.
“So you have been bedding him?” Viper asked, dangerously soft.
In that moment, I realized there was only one way through this. I couldn’t deny it—that would only make Viper more suspicious.
“Ghost?” I forced a casual tone. “Yeah, I’ve fucked him a few times.
The boy has skilled hands and a wet mouth.
If he wants to bed the big, scary Reaper, why would I refuse?
Besides, the pair of us have always fucked whoever we like.
” I looked at Viper with manufactured confusion, praying he wouldn’t call me out on the statement—that he imagined I might have been bedding random crew members this whole time.
Viper’s brow furrowed. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”
I shrugged, affecting nonchalance despite the ice in my veins. “I didn’t realize you needed to keep track of the notches on my bedpost, Captain. But it’s not a secret. I think Ghost goes around bragging about it. I don’t give a shit, as long as he’s favorable about the size of my cock.”
Each crude word was acid on my tongue. Kaspar—who’d traced my scars with reverence, who’d brought my dead heart back to life—deserved better than to be reduced to this. But his life depended on this performance.
Viper studied me, his dark eyes probing. “It’s not more than just fucking?”
“More?” I let out a hollow laugh. “What else would it be? He’s just a warm body to pass the time with. When he’s gone, I’ll find someone else. Plenty of birds in the sky, as it were.”
Viper leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the polished wood. “And you’re certain he doesn’t suspect anything? No plans to escape before we put him to work?”
A phantom twinge shot through my missing leg, as if my body was preparing to flee a threat it couldn’t outrun. “Suspect?”
“The extraction rig—”
“Ghost has no idea what we’re planning.” I waved dismissively, fighting to keep my voice steady. “His mind is full of clouds beyond his pretty face. Besides, his mouth is usually too full for conversation when we’re together.”
Viper’s eyes widened slightly, then narrowed with amusement.
“We don’t talk, Captain,” I continued, the lies souring my stomach. “I don’t want to know his life story or his favorite color. And I certainly don’t want him getting ideas in his head.”
The words felt like poison as I spoke them, each syllable a betrayal. But I kept my face impassive, my posture relaxed, as if discussing nothing more important than the weather.
Viper nodded. “Keep it that way.”
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. “When exactly are you planning it?”
“I’ll let you know.”
I stared at Viper, taking in the subtle shift in his posture, the calculating gleam in his eyes. The slight tightening around his mouth.
It was futile.
He didn’t believe me.
I’d lost his trust.
“Is that all, Captain?” I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the dread spreading through my chest like ice water.
Viper’s gaze held mine for a beat too long. “For now.” He gestured toward the door. “You’re dismissed.”