Bound By The Sea (Regular posting)

[VelvetWhispers]

Chapter One: The Devil's Dance

***Caribbean Sea, 1715 – Midnight***

The sea was a black mirror beneath the moonlight, rippling only slightly under the caress of a gentle breeze. Silence, pregnant with the promise of violence, clung to the night like a shroud. The scent of salt, gunpowder, and something more sinister hung heavy in the air as the sleek, black-hulled ship The Revenant cut through the waves like a blade.

On the deck of the pirate vessel, every man was as still as a statue, their eyes gleaming in the dark, their hands resting on hilts and triggers. There was no drunken laughter tonight, no rowdy songs or bawdy jokes. They were on the hunt. The target: Port Royal, the jewel of the British Caribbean, where the Governor's mansion overlooked the town with its pristine white walls and iron gates, guarded by a regiment of soldiers.

Captain Gideon Grim stood at the helm, his tall frame unmoving, his cold blue eyes fixed on the shadowy coastline. His blonde hair, tied back, shone faintly in the moonlight, and the long coat he wore flapped lightly in the breeze. To those who looked up to him, he was a living legend—a man with a soul as black as the sea he commanded, a heart that beat only for danger and the thrill of the chase. His men called him "The Devil of the Deep," and he had earned that name tenfold.

Beside him, his quartermaster, Roderick "Red" Walsh, a grizzled man with a scarred face and one eye gleaming like a polished stone, was the only one who dared to break the silence. "She'll be in her chamber, no doubt," Red muttered, his voice a low growl. "You're sure this is worth it, Captain? Sneaking into the lion's den?"

Grim's eyes never left the horizon. "A lion's den is only dangerous if you're afraid to get bitten, Red. We need those men back. Governor Sharp made his move, and now we'll make ours. Besides," he added, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "I hear his daughter is quite the prize."

Red grunted, shaking his head. "Aye, but a dangerous one. Word is she's engaged to that young naval officer—Captain Charles Hayward. He's got the King's ear and a taste for blood. Won't be long before he's got half the Royal Navy breathing down our necks."

Gideon's smile grew, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Let him try."

As they neared the harbour, the shadowy silhouette of Port Royal's fortifications loomed closer. The Revenant slid past the outer defences like a ghost, its sails furled to muffle the sound. The ship's boats were lowered silently into the water, and within moments, a dozen men, led by their captain, were rowing towards the shore, their oars cutting through the water with barely a whisper.

They reached the sandy beach and disembarked, moving swiftly and silently through the winding streets of the town. They knew their route, every alley and shadow mapped out in Grim's mind. The Governor's mansion rose ahead of them, a fortress of wealth and power. The gates were guarded, but the pirates melted into the darkness, scaling the walls like spiders.

Grim led the way, his senses sharp, his heart steady. They crept through the garden, avoiding the patrols, until they reached the side of the house. Red hoisted himself up to a balcony and offered a hand to Grim, who followed without hesitation.

Miss Emma Sharp's chamber was on the second floor, as they had known it would be. A low light burned within, the flicker of a single candle casting shadows across the drawn curtains. Grim motioned for silence, and Red nodded, positioning himself by the door.

The captain's gloved hand reached for the latch, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed the door open. The hinges didn't so much as creak—a testament to the careful preparations made earlier. Inside, the room was warm and smelled of lavender and books. Emma Sharp was standing by the window, her back to them, dressed in a simple nightgown that clung to her figure. She seemed lost in thought, one hand resting on the windowsill as she gazed out at the moonlit sea.

For a moment, Grim hesitated. She was nothing like he had expected. There was no trace of the pampered, wilting flower he had imagined. She stood with a quiet strength, her posture poised and confident. She was beautiful, yes—more so than the rumours suggested—but there was something else in her stance, something that made the captain pause.

But only for a moment.

"Miss Sharp," Grim said softly, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

She turned, eyes widening slightly as she took in the sight of the tall, imposing figure standing in her room. For a heartbeat, neither moved. Then, before Grim could react, she opened her mouth to scream.

In an instant, Grim was upon her. He lunged forward, his hand clamping over her mouth with a swift, practiced motion. Her eyes blazed with fear and defiance as she struggled against him, but he held her fast, his grip unyielding.

"Quiet, lass," Grim whispered, his voice low and menacing. "Make a sound, and I'll have no choice but to silence you for good."

Emma's struggles slowed, her chest heaving with the effort. Slowly, she nodded, her gaze never leaving his. Grim hesitated for a moment, then removed his hand, his eyes warning her against any further attempts.

"Who are you?" she demanded in a harsh whisper, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. "What do you want?"

Grim's smile was cool, a predator's smile. "A friend, for now. But that could change depending on how cooperative you are."

Emma's eyes narrowed, but she did not flinch. "What do you want?"

Before she could react, Grim stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a single stride. His hand shot out, catching her wrist in a firm grip. "You, Miss Sharp. You're coming with me."

She yanked her arm back, but his hold was unyielding. "Why?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the fear flickering in her eyes. "Do you even know who I am?"

Grim leaned in close, his voice a dangerous whisper. "I know exactly who you are. And you'll be treated well if you come quietly. But if you resist—"

"Then what?" Emma interrupted, her chin lifting defiantly. "You'll drag me off like a common criminal? I assure you, my father will see you hang for this."

Grim's smile grew, but his eyes were hard. "I've faced worse than your father's wrath, Miss Sharp. Now, unless you fancy waking up half the garrison, I suggest you come along."

For a moment, they stared at each other, the air between them crackling with tension. Then, with a sigh of resignation, Emma relented. "Very well, but I warn you, this will not end the way you hope."

He motioned to Red, who quickly secured Emma's hands with a length of rope, though not so tightly as to cause her pain. She didn't struggle, her eyes locked on Grim's, assessing, calculating.

As they moved to leave, a sudden shout from below shattered the silence. One of the guards had discovered the intruders, and the alarm was raised. Grim swore under his breath, pulling Emma to his side as they rushed to the balcony. "Change of plans," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

They descended the way they had come, but the element of surprise was lost. Red fired his pistol at an approaching guard, the shot ringing out in the night. They hit the ground running, Emma barely able to keep up as Grim dragged her along, his grip ironclad.

As they fled through the garden, the sound of boots pounding on cobblestone grew louder. The pirates were making for the beach, but they were being closed in on from all sides. Red turned to Grim, shouting over the chaos. "We'll never make it to the boats!"

Grim's eyes darted around, quickly calculating their odds. "Then we'll take the other way out."

They veered off, heading towards a nearby cove that Red knew led to a hidden grotto. It was a risk, but better than facing the Governor's soldiers head-on.

Emma stumbled, and Grim caught her, practically lifting her off her feet as they ran. "Keep up, Miss Sharp," he growled, "or I really will carry you."

"I'm beginning to think you enjoy this, Captain," she shot back, breathless but defiant.

He grinned, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the chase. "Maybe I do."

They reached the grotto just as the soldiers burst into the garden. Grim shoved Emma into the narrow opening, following close behind. Red and the others held their ground, firing a volley of shots to cover their retreat before diving in after them.

Inside, the grotto was dark and damp, the sound of the sea echoing off the walls. Grim led them through the twisting passage until they emerged on the other side, where a small rowboat waited.

They piled in, Grim taking the oars. The soldiers would be on them soon, but the pirate ship lay just beyond the point, hidden in the shadows. With powerful strokes, Grim rowed them out to the open water, every muscle in his body straining as he pushed

the boat to its limits.

Emma sat across from him, her eyes locked on his, a mixture of anger and something else simmering beneath the surface. She was no shrinking violet, that much was clear. But what she didn't yet realize was that she wasn't the only one fighting to keep control.

As the rowboat drew closer to The Revenant, the towering shape of the ship came into view. Grim felt a surge of pride as his men hauled them aboard, the deck a flurry of activity as they prepared to set sail.

He looked at Emma, who had remained silent since they'd entered the boat, and wondered how long it would be before she tried to make her next move.

 

[VelvetWhispers]

Chapter Two: Captive's Resolve

***Aboard The Revenant***
***Somewhere in the Caribbean Sea – Just Before Dawn***

The sea's vast emptiness yawned before Emma Sharp, an endless expanse of dark water that seemed to stretch on forever. The waves lapped at the sides of The Revenant, the ship's creaks and groans the only sounds breaking the predawn silence. She stood on the quarterdeck, her hands bound in front of her, the rough rope chafing her delicate wrists. She could still feel the ghost of Gideon Grim's iron grip on her arm, the memory of his voice low in her ear, threatening to silence her forever.

Emma's heart hammered in her chest, but she forced herself to remain calm, to breathe deeply and think clearly. Panicking would do her no good now. She was a prisoner, taken from her home in the dead of night by a man she had heard only in whispers—Captain Gideon Grim, the Devil of the Deep. The stories about him were the stuff of nightmares, tales told to frighten children into obedience. But standing here now, watching as the first light of dawn kissed the horizon, Emma knew that the legends didn't do him justice.

Gideon Grim was no mere pirate; he was a force of nature. His eyes, sharp and cold, seemed to pierce right through her, as if he could see every thought, every fear, lurking in her mind. But she refused to let him see how much he had shaken her. She had to be strong—stronger than she had ever been before.

The deck of The Revenant was a hive of activity as the crew prepared to set sail. Emma watched them with a keen eye, noting their movements, the way they worked together like a well-oiled machine. These men were dangerous, hardened by years of living outside the law, but they were also loyal—to each other and to their captain. She could see it in the way they looked at Grim, their eyes filled with a mix of respect and fear.

The captain himself stood at the helm, his tall figure silhouetted against the rising sun. He barked orders in a voice that brooked no argument, and the crew scrambled to obey. Emma's gaze lingered on him, her mind racing as she tried to piece together a plan.

She had to get off this ship. But how? The thought of escape seemed impossible—she was surrounded by water, miles from land, with nowhere to run. But she couldn't just give up. She had always been resourceful, and now was the time to prove it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Emma turned to see Red Walsh, the scarred quartermaster, striding toward her. He was a rough-looking man, with a permanent scowl etched into his face, and his single eye glinted with suspicion as he regarded her.

"You'll be wanting to come with me, Miss Sharp," Red growled, jerking his head toward the captain's cabin.

Emma straightened her spine, lifting her chin defiantly. "And if I refuse?"

Red's scowl deepened. "Then I'll drag you there myself, lass. Don't think I won't."

She held his gaze for a moment longer, then relented with a sigh. There was no point in resisting—not yet, at least. "Lead the way," she said, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Red nodded, satisfied, and turned to lead her below deck. Emma followed, her mind still racing as she tried to anticipate what Grim would want from her. Ransom, obviously—but was that all? And how could she use it to her advantage?

The captain's cabin was larger than she expected, though sparsely furnished. A sturdy table stood in the center, cluttered with maps and charts, and a large window at the stern offered a view of the endless sea. A single lantern hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the room. Grim stood by the table, his back to her, studying a map with intense focus.

Red cleared his throat, and Grim turned, his piercing blue eyes locking onto Emma's the moment she entered. She resisted the urge to take a step back, instead meeting his gaze with as much defiance as she could muster.

"Leave us," Grim ordered Red, his voice calm but with an edge of authority that left no room for argument.

Red hesitated, his gaze flicking between Grim and Emma, before giving a curt nod. He stepped out of the cabin, closing the door behind him with a solid thud.

Now alone with the pirate captain, Emma felt the tension in the room thicken, the air charged with unspoken words. She remained by the door, refusing to move further into his domain.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, cutting straight to the point. Her voice was firm, though she could feel the edges of her fear pressing in.

Grim leaned back against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze raked over her, assessing, calculating. "You've a sharp tongue, Miss Sharp," he said, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I like that. But I suggest you be careful how you use it."

"I'll ask again," she pressed, unwilling to be intimidated. "What do you want?"

He watched her for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he spoke. "Your father holds several of my men. They're to be hanged at dawn tomorrow. I'm offering an exchange—you for them."

Emma's heart skipped a beat, her mind reeling at the implications. "And if my father refuses?"

Grim's smile faded, his expression hardening. "Then your father will have a very difficult decision to make. But I don't think he will. He loves his daughter too much to risk your life over a few pirates."

Emma forced herself to remain calm, to think. "And if I go along with this, you'll let me go afterward? You'll return me to my home unharmed?"

"That depends on how cooperative you are," Grim replied, his tone suggesting he was not in the mood for negotiations. "If you make things difficult, Miss Sharp, I might have to reconsider."

Emma clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her composure. This man held all the power, but she refused to let him see how much that frightened her. "You think you can just use me as a pawn in your little game?" she asked, her voice laced with venom. "I am not some helpless damsel, Captain Grim. I assure you, I will find a way out of this."

Grim's eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and something darker. "I don't doubt your resolve, Miss Sharp. But you're in my world now. And here, the rules are different."

She took a step forward, narrowing the distance between them. "If you think I'm going to sit quietly while you use me, you're sorely mistaken. My father will hunt you down, and when he does, I'll make sure you're the first to hang."

Grim's smile returned, but it was colder this time, a warning rather than a jest. "You're a brave one, I'll give you that. But bravery can get you killed just as quickly as cowardice. I suggest you remember that."

Emma refused to be cowed. She stepped even closer, her gaze unwavering. "And I suggest you remember that I am not your enemy, Captain. Let me go now, and I'll see to it that my father shows you mercy. But keep me here, and you'll have signed your own death warrant."

For a long moment, they stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. The tension between them crackled, the air thick with unspoken threats. Then, just as suddenly, Grim stepped back, breaking the spell.

"You have spirit, Miss Sharp," he said, his tone almost admiring. "But spirit alone won't save you here. You're aboard my ship, and until I get what I want, you're my prisoner. I suggest you make your peace with that."

Emma's heart sank, but she refused to show it. Instead, she straightened her back and raised her chin, meeting his gaze with all the defiance she could muster. "We'll see about that, Captain."

He gave a short nod, seemingly satisfied with her response. "You'll be given quarters below deck. Not the brig, if that's what you're wondering. I'm not a monster, Miss Sharp, despite what you may think of me."

Emma bit back a retort, knowing it would do her no good to antagonize him further. Instead, she nodded curtly, her mind already racing with thoughts of escape. She would bide her time, wait for the right moment. When it came, she would be ready.

Grim opened the door and called for Red, who appeared almost instantly. "Take her below," Grim ordered. "And make sure she's comfortable. We'll need her in one piece if this plan is to work."

Red nodded, gesturing for Emma to follow him. She cast one last look at Grim, her eyes burning with anger and resolve, before turning on her heel and stepping out of the cabin.

As she was led down the narrow corridors of The Revenant, Emma's mind whirled with possibilities. The ship was a labyrinth, but she forced herself to memorize every twist and turn, every door and stairwell. She had no idea when or how she might be able to use that knowledge, but she knew it was her only chance.

Red finally stopped outside a small cabin and opened the door. The room was plain, with a single cot, a small table, and a chair. It was far from luxurious, but it was better than she had expected.

"You'll stay here," Red said gruffly. "Food and water will be brought to you. Don't try anything stupid."

Emma ignored him, stepping into the room and turning to face him. "Thank you, Mr. Walsh," she said, her tone icy. "I'll remember your kindness."

Red scowled, clearly uncomfortable with her polite sarcasm. He muttered something under his breath before closing the door and locking it from the outside.

Emma waited until she heard his footsteps retreating before allowing herself to exhale. The small cabin felt like a cage, but she refused to let it break her spirit. She moved to the small porthole, peering out at the endless sea. The sky was beginning to lighten, the first hints of dawn coloring the horizon in shades of pink and gold.

She would survive this, Emma vowed to herself. She would find a way to escape, to return home and make sure Captain Grim paid for what he had done. But for now, she would play the role of the obedient captive, biding her time until the opportunity presented itself.

Because if there was one thing Emma Sharp had learned in her twenty-two years, it was that patience and wit were often the deadliest weapons of all.

 

[VelvetWhispers]

Chapter Three: The Governor's Wrath

***Port Royal, Jamaica – The Governor's Mansion***
***Dawn***

Governor William Sharp stood in the grand foyer of his mansion, his hands trembling with a barely contained fury. The sound of hurried footsteps, clattering weapons, and the raised voices of his soldiers echoed through the halls, but it all seemed distant, muffled, as if coming from some other world. He had been roused from sleep in the dead of night by the sound of gunfire and the panicked shouts of his household staff. At first, he had thought it a dream, some terrible nightmare conjured from the depths of his subconscious. But the smoke, the smell of blood, and the chaos that followed were all too real.

Now, as the first light of dawn broke through the windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor, Sharp could feel the weight of dread settling in his chest like a leaden anchor. His daughter—his Emma—was missing.

"Where is she?" Sharp barked, his voice harsh and edged with panic, as he turned to his aide, Colonel Rutledge. The colonel, a grizzled veteran with a face etched by the Caribbean sun, looked equally shaken but maintained a semblance of composure.

"We're still searching the grounds, sir," Rutledge replied, his voice strained. "But it appears the pirates took her. There's no sign of her anywhere, and—" He hesitated, his weathered face twisting with unease.

Sharp's blood ran cold. "And what, Colonel?"

Rutledge swallowed, glancing at the soldiers milling about the foyer, before lowering his voice. "Sir, there's evidence…a few of the staff overheard the pirates mentioning your daughter by name. They were targeting her."

The words struck Sharp like a physical blow. He staggered back, gripping the edge of a nearby table to steady himself. "Targeting her? But why?"

Rutledge shook his head. "We don't know yet, sir. But Captain Charles Hayward of the Royal Navy has just arrived. He's assembling a force to pursue the pirates as we speak."

Sharp nodded, trying to gather his thoughts, but his mind kept returning to Emma. He had always known that his position as governor made him a target, but he had never imagined that those who wished him harm would stoop so low as to abduct his only child.

"Take me to Hayward," Sharp ordered, his voice firm despite the turmoil roiling within him. He had no time to wallow in fear or despair. Emma needed him, and he would do whatever it took to bring her back.

Rutledge led him through the mansion, past the shattered remnants of doors and windows that the pirates had blasted through in their midnight raid. Soldiers were stationed at every corner, their faces grim as they assessed the damage. Sharp could see the anger in their eyes, the desire for retribution. It was a desire he shared.

As they reached the courtyard, Sharp spotted Captain Hayward near the stables, surrounded by a small contingent of naval officers and marines. Hayward was in his early thirties, a tall and imposing figure in his crisp naval uniform, with a square jaw and a commanding presence that demanded respect. He turned as Sharp approached, his expression dark.

"Governor Sharp," Hayward greeted him, bowing his head slightly in deference. "I came as soon as I heard. I deeply regret what has happened here."

"There's no time for regrets, Captain," Sharp said, his voice clipped. "My daughter has been taken by these bastards, and I need to know what you're doing to bring her back."

Hayward's jaw tightened. "I've already dispatched scouts to track the pirates' movements. They were seen fleeing the harbour under cover of night, and we believe they've made for open water. We'll pursue them with all haste."

"What do we know about these pirates?" Sharp demanded, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

Hayward exchanged a glance with one of his officers before answering. "We believe the raid was led by Captain Gideon Grim. He's a notorious pirate, known for his audacity and cunning. He's been a thorn in our side for years, but we've never been able to catch him. Until now."

Sharp's heart sank even further at the mention of Grim's name. He had heard the stories, the tales of Grim's ruthless exploits, his ability to slip through the fingers of the law like water through a sieve. If it truly was Grim who had taken Emma…

"Why would Grim target my daughter?" Sharp asked, struggling to keep his voice steady. "What could he possibly want with her?"

Hayward hesitated before responding. "We're not certain, sir, but there's a possibility that he intends to ransom her in exchange for some of his men who were recently captured. They're scheduled to be hanged at dawn tomorrow."

Sharp's eyes narrowed. "So this is a bargaining chip, then. He thinks he can trade my daughter's life for his men's?"

"That's our working theory," Hayward confirmed. "But we haven't received any communication from Grim yet. It's possible he has other plans."

Sharp's mind raced. He knew the price of showing weakness, especially to men like Grim. But this was his daughter they were talking about. The thought of her in the hands of those savages was unbearable.

"Captain," Sharp began, his voice low and filled with barely restrained fury, "I don't care what it takes. I want my daughter back, and I want Grim brought to justice. Do you understand?"

Hayward nodded, his expression resolute. "I'll do everything in my power to see it done, Governor. But we must tread carefully. Grim is a dangerous man, and if we push him too hard, he might do something…unpredictable."

Sharp's fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The very idea of that monster laying a hand on Emma made his blood boil. But he knew Hayward was right. They couldn't afford to act rashly, not with Emma's life hanging in the balance.

As they stood there in tense silence, a young ensign approached, carrying a small, weathered parchment sealed with a crude wax emblem. "Captain Hayward, this was just delivered by a fisherman who claims he intercepted it on the beach near the harbour."

Hayward took the parchment, breaking the seal and scanning the contents. His expression darkened as he read, and without a word, he handed the letter to Sharp.

Sharp's hands shook as he took the letter, the words on the page blurring as he read them.

To Governor William Sharp,
I have your daughter. If you wish to see her alive, you will release my men by nightfall. Fail to do so, and I will send her back to you piece by piece. I expect your answer soon.
Captain Gideon Grim

Sharp's vision tunnelled, his heart pounding in his chest as he read the letter again, the cruel words searing themselves into his mind. Grim had taken his daughter as leverage, and he was willing to do anything to get what he wanted.

"I'll kill him," Sharp whispered, his voice trembling with rage. "I'll kill him with my own hands."

Hayward placed a steadying hand on Sharp's shoulder. "Governor, I know this is difficult, but we must think strategically. Grim is counting on you to act out of emotion. We need to formulate a plan, one that will ensure Miss Sharp's safe return and bring Grim to justice."

Sharp knew the captain was right, but the thought of Emma in Grim's clutches made it nearly impossible to think clearly. Still, he forced himself to nod, pushing his anger down, letting it simmer just below the surface.

"What do you suggest, Captain?" Sharp asked, his voice taut with controlled fury.

"We have until nightfall to make our move," Hayward replied, his mind already working through possibilities. "We could agree to his demands, release his men, and then use the opportunity to track him and ambush his ship once the exchange is made. Alternatively, we could try to stall for time, use the pretence of negotiation to get a better sense of his position, and prepare a strike force to rescue your daughter."

Sharp considered the options, his thoughts a whirlwind of fear and anger. The idea of releasing Grim's men made his stomach turn, but if it meant getting Emma back safely, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

"Send word that I agree to the terms," Sharp finally said, his voice low but steady. "We'll release his men. But I want every ship you have ready to set sail the moment the exchange is made. We'll follow Grim to the ends of the earth if we have to."

Hayward nodded. "I'll see to it, Governor. We'll make sure he doesn't get far."

Sharp's eyes burned with a fierce determination as he met Hayward's gaze. "And Captain, when we do find him, I want no mercy shown. Grim is to be brought down, by whatever means necessary."

Hayward saluted sharply. "You have my word, Governor. Grim will pay for this."

As Hayward turned to give orders to his men, Sharp remained standing in the courtyard, his thoughts consumed by the image of his daughter in the hands of that monster. He had always known the dangers of his position, the risks that came with being a man of power in a land ruled by the blade and the gun. But he had never imagined that those dangers would strike so close to home.

Now, with the sun rising over the horizon, he could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on him like never before. He had to be strong, had to keep his emotions in check, if he was going to save Emma.

 

[VelvetWhispers]

Chapter Four: On the Open Sea

***Aboard The Revenant***
***Midday***

The Revenant sliced through the azure waters of the Caribbean, her black sails billowing in the warm breeze. The crew, hardened men who had weathered countless storms and battles, moved about the deck with practiced ease. The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the ship as it sailed further from the shores of Jamaica, deeper into the vast expanse of the sea.

Captain Gideon Grim stood at the helm, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. The events of the previous night—the raid on the governor's mansion, the capture of Emma Sharp—had gone as planned. But now, as the Revenant sailed toward open waters, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get more complicated.

He glanced toward the stern, where Emma was standing near the railing, her back to him. She had been silent since the raid, her defiance simmering just beneath the surface. Grim could see it in the way she held herself, in the tightness of her jaw and the sharpness of her gaze when she dared to look at him. She was a prisoner on his ship, but she was far from broken.

Grim's thoughts were interrupted by the approach of Red Walsh, his first mate. The burly pirate had a scowl on his face, his eyes darting between Grim and Emma.

"Cap'n," Red muttered, keeping his voice low, "the crew's gettin' restless. They don't like havin' a woman on board, let alone the governor's daughter. They're worried she's bad luck, or worse, that she'll bring the Navy down on us."

Grim nodded, not taking his eyes off Emma. "I expected as much. Keep them in line, Red. Remind them that she's our leverage. No harm is to come to her. If anyone even thinks about crossing that line, they'll answer to me."

Red grunted in agreement, though Grim could see the unease in his eyes. The crew was loyal, but loyalty only went so far when superstition and fear took hold. It was a delicate balance, and Grim knew he would need to tread carefully.

"She's a fiery one, that's for sure," Red said, glancing at Emma with a mixture of respect and annoyance. "Doesn't seem scared of much, does she?"

"No," Grim replied, a hint of admiration creeping into his voice. "She's not like most of the women we've encountered. She's smart, and she's got spirit. But that makes her even more dangerous. We'll need to keep a close eye on her."

Red nodded again before heading off to address the crew, leaving Grim alone with his thoughts. He watched Emma for a moment longer before finally turning away, heading down the steps to the main deck.

Emma stood by the railing, her hands gripping the wood so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The breeze tugged at her hair, which had come loose from its elegant style, and the sun warmed her face, but she felt none of it. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions—fear, anger, frustration, and something else, something she couldn't quite place, every time she caught Grim watching her.

She had heard stories of pirates her whole life, tales of bloodthirsty savages who plundered and killed without remorse. But Grim was different from the brutish images she had imagined. He was calm, calculated, and unsettlingly charming. It was disconcerting, and it infuriated her that she was even thinking about him this way when she should be focusing on escaping.

The reality of her situation was beginning to sink in. She was miles from shore, surrounded by men who would sooner slit her throat than look at her, all under the command of a captain who had no reason to show her mercy. But she couldn't afford to lose hope. Her father would be searching for her, and she knew Captain Hayward well enough to trust that he would stop at nothing to bring her back.

But until then, she was on her own.

She turned her gaze to the endless sea, thinking about her father, the life she had left behind, and the uncertain future that lay ahead. The thought of her father's reaction to her abduction brought a lump to her throat. She knew he would be frantic with worry, and that thought both comforted and terrified her.

"Enjoying the view?"

Emma started at the sound of Grim's voice. She hadn't heard him approach. He stood beside her, his presence imposing yet oddly non-threatening. There was something about him that made her wary, but it was a different kind of fear than what she felt toward the rest of the crew. It was more of a cautious respect, as if she knew that beneath his calm exterior lay a mind that was always calculating, always one step ahead.

"It's not exactly the view I would have chosen," she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm. "But I suppose it's better than being locked in a cabin."

Grim smirked. "I thought you might appreciate the fresh air. Besides, you're not my prisoner, Miss Sharp. You're my guest."

Emma shot him a withering look. "A guest who isn't allowed to leave? How generous of you, Captain Grim."

He chuckled, clearly amused by her defiance. "You can leave whenever you like. Of course, you'd have to swim back to Jamaica, but that's entirely up to you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, hating how easily he could get under her skin. "And what exactly do you plan to do with me, Captain? Or is that a secret too?"

Grim's smile faded slightly, and his expression became more serious. "You know exactly why you're here, Miss Sharp. Your father has some of my men, and I want them back. You're my insurance."

Emma's stomach tightened. She had suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed made the situation all the more real. "So I'm a bargaining chip, then? How very noble of you."

Grim's eyes darkened, and he took a step closer to her, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "Don't mistake me for a nobleman, Miss Sharp. I'm a pirate. We don't play by the same rules as your father and his kind. I'll do whatever it takes to get my men back, and if that means keeping you aboard this ship until the exchange is made, then so be it."

Emma held his gaze, refusing to back down despite the knot of fear that had settled in her chest. "And what if my father refuses to meet your demands? What if he decides that the lives of a few pirates aren't worth trading for his daughter?"

Grim's expression remained unreadable, but she thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, perhaps, or a shadow of doubt. "He won't refuse," Grim said after a pause. "He loves you too much to take that risk."

Emma didn't respond immediately. She knew her father would do everything in his power to get her back, but she also knew how stubborn he could be. If he saw this as an opportunity to rid the seas of a notorious pirate like Grim, he might very well decide that the sacrifice was worth it. The thought chilled her to the bone.

"Then I suppose we're both at the mercy of my father's decisions," she finally said, her voice softer than before.

Grim didn't reply, and for a moment, they stood in silence, the only sound the creaking of the ship and the distant call of seabirds. The tension between them was palpable, a strange mix of hostility and something else, something unspoken that neither of them could quite name.

But before either of them could say anything more, the lookout's voice rang out from the crow's nest. "Sails on the horizon! Two ships, to the southeast!"

Grim's demeanour changed instantly, the easy-going charm replaced by the steely focus of a captain in command. He turned on his heel and barked orders to the crew, who sprang into action, adjusting the sails and readying the cannons.

Emma watched the transformation with a mix of awe and trepidation. This was the side of Grim that she had heard so much about—the ruthless pirate who had outwitted the Navy time and time again. And now, as the crew prepared for what was likely to be a battle, she realized just how precarious her situation truly was.

Grim returned to the helm, his eyes fixed on the approaching ships. Emma followed his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. She could see the dark silhouettes of the vessels in the distance, their sails full as they closed in on the Revenant.

"Are they Royal Navy?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Grim's jaw tightened. "Looks like it. They've been tracking us."

Emma's heart leapt at the possibility of rescue, but the look on Grim's face told her that this was far from a simple chase. The Revenant was known for its speed and agility, but against two well-armed naval ships, the odds were far from favourable.

"Get below deck," Grim ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "It's about to get rough."

Emma hesitated, her instincts telling her to stay and see what would happen, but the urgency in Grim's voice made her comply. She turned and hurried toward the stairs leading below deck, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

As she descended into the dimly lit bowels of the ship, she could hear the crew shouting and the clatter of weapons being readied. The air was thick with tension, and Emma knew that whatever happened next would determine her fate—whether she would be rescued or remain a captive aboard the Revenant.

She found a small cabin and ducked inside, closing the door behind her. Her heart was pounding, and she forced herself to take deep breaths, trying to steady her nerves. She was a governor's daughter, not a damsel in distress. She had been taught to be strong, to face challenges head-on. But this was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

The sound of cannons firing above made her jump, and she could feel the ship lurching as it maneuverer to avoid the enemy fire. The battle had begun.

Emma clenched her fists, feeling the ship shudder with each impact. She hated feeling so helpless, so out of control. But there was nothing she could do now except wait and hope that the Revenant would somehow survive the onslaught.

Up on deck, Grim was barking orders, his eyes never leaving the approaching ships. The Revenant was fast, but the naval vessels were gaining on them, their cannons blazing.

"Bring her around!" Grim shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "We'll cut between them and head for the reefs!"

The crew responded instantly, the sails shifting as the Revenant veered sharply to the right. The manoeuvre was risky—threading the needle between two heavily armed ships—but it was their best chance at escape.

As the Revenant darted between the two naval vessels, the cannons fired again, the thunderous roar shaking the ship to its core. But Grim's gamble paid off. The naval ships were forced to break formation, their cannons unable to adjust quickly enough to hit the nimble pirate ship.

"Hold steady!" Grim called out, his voice filled with determination. "We'll lose them in the reefs!"

The Revenant surged forward, her crew working in perfect harmony to navigate the treacherous waters ahead. The reefs were a labyrinth of sharp rocks and shallow shoals, deadly to any ship that ventured too close. But Grim knew these waters better than anyone, and he guided the Revenant through with the skill of a seasoned sailor.

The naval ships hesitated, wary of the reefs, and that hesitation gave the Revenant the advantage it needed. Grim pressed on, pushing the ship to its limits as they weaved through the rocky maze.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Revenant emerged on the other side, the naval ships still struggling to navigate the reefs behind them. Grim allowed himself a small smile of triumph. They had escaped—for now.

But the danger was far from over. As the Revenant sailed into open waters once more, Grim knew that the pursuit would not end here. The Navy would be relentless, and the crew's loyalty would be tested like never before.

And then there was Emma. Grim's eyes drifted toward the stairs leading below deck, his mind returning to the governor's daughter. She was a complication he hadn't anticipated, a variable in the carefully calculated equation of his life.

He had taken her as a means to an end, a way to secure his men's release. But the more time he spent in her presence, the more he realized that she was not just a pawn in his game. She was a force unto herself, a woman who challenged him in ways he hadn't expected.

Grim shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside. He couldn't afford to be distracted, not with so much at stake. There would be time to deal with Emma later, once they were safely away from the Navy's grasp.

For now, all that mattered was staying one step ahead of the enemy—and making sure that the Revenant continued to sail free, no matter the cost.

 

[VelvetWhispers]

Chapter Five: The Cost of Freedom

The Revenant sliced through the dark waters like a phantom, its sails catching the night wind as it glided toward the rendezvous point. Captain Gideon Grim stood at the helm, his sharp blue eyes scanning the horizon. The night was quiet, but the tension among the crew was palpable. They were heading into enemy waters under a flag of truce, but Grim knew better than to trust the governor’s word. Governor William Sharp was a man of power, cunning, and ruthless ambition—traits that made him both formidable and dangerous.

Grim’s mind was a whirl of strategies and counter-moves. The plan had been set in motion: the governor’s daughter, Emma, in exchange for his captured crew. But as they neared the rendezvous point, unease gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. Governor Sharp wasn’t the kind of man to give something for nothing, and Grim suspected a trap was waiting for them.

“Cap’n, we’re close now,” said Red, Grim’s loyal first mate, his voice low and gruff. Red was a hulking figure, his scarred face a testament to the countless battles he’d survived. Despite his intimidating appearance, he had a keen mind for tactics and an unwavering loyalty to Grim.

“Aye, I see it,” Grim replied, his voice as steady as the ship’s course. He glanced over his shoulder at the small group of men who had gathered on deck, their eyes reflecting the same worry that gnawed at his gut. These were his best men, hardened pirates who had fought beside him through thick and thin. But tonight, even they seemed uneasy.

Grim’s gaze shifted to Emma, who stood at the railing, her face pale in the moonlight. She was silent, her thoughts a mystery, but he could see the tension in the way she gripped the wood. She had been a captive on the Revenant for days now, and while she had been cooperative—at least outwardly—Grim knew that her loyalties lay with her father.

He walked over to her, his boots thudding softly on the wooden deck. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his tone softer than usual. He needed her calm, not panicking or making things more difficult.

Emma turned to him, her green eyes flashing with defiance. “I’m not afraid, Captain. Just curious as to whether you’ll keep your word once my father keeps his.”

Grim smirked. “I’m a pirate, Miss Sharp, but I’m not a liar. If your father honors the deal, you’ll be free to go.”

She held his gaze, searching for any hint of deception. Finding none, she nodded, though her expression remained guarded. “And if he doesn’t?”

Grim’s smile faded, replaced by the cold, calculating look of a man who had seen too many betrayals. “Then I’ll do what I have to do.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a shout from the crow’s nest. “Ships ahead!”

Grim looked up, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. The outline of two ships appeared on the horizon, their sails stark against the night sky. One flew the colors of the Royal Navy, the other, a darker shade that made Grim’s blood run cold.

“Blackthorne,” he muttered, recognizing the rival pirate’s ship instantly. The sight of it brought a curse to his lips. Captain Blackthorne was a ruthless pirate with a notorious reputation, and his presence here could mean only one thing: betrayal.

Grim’s mind raced. The plan had been simple—too simple. Of course, Governor Sharp had another play up his sleeve. He had lured Grim in with the promise of his crew’s freedom, only to set a trap using Blackthorne as his executioner. It was a cunning move, one that would likely see Grim dead or in chains by the end of the night.

But Grim wasn’t one to go down without a fight.

“Red!” he barked, turning to his first mate. “Prepare the men. This is going to get bloody.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Red responded without hesitation, his gravelly voice carrying across the deck. The crew sprang into action, grabbing weapons and readying themselves for battle. The mood shifted instantly from tense anticipation to grim determination.

As the Revenant closed in on the other ships, Grim’s thoughts returned to Emma. She was still standing by the railing, her face a mask of worry now that the threat had become real. Grim hesitated for a moment, then walked over to her.

“This isn’t your fight,” he said quietly. “You should get below deck.”

Emma shook her head, her jaw set stubbornly. “I won’t hide while my father’s involved in this. Whatever happens, I want to see it.”

Grim admired her courage, even if he thought it foolish. “Very well, but stay out of the way. I can’t afford any distractions.”

Emma’s eyes narrowed. “I won’t be a distraction, Captain. I’ll be your insurance. If things go wrong, my father will want me back alive.”

Grim stared at her, surprised by her boldness. She wasn’t wrong. Her life was a valuable bargaining chip, and she knew it. He gave a curt nod and turned back to face the approaching ships. The time for talk was over.

The Revenant pulled alongside the governor’s ship, the tension crackling in the air as the two vessels matched speed. Grim’s eyes were locked on the other ship’s deck, searching for any sign of a trap. Sure enough, he spotted the glint of musket barrels aimed in their direction.

“Steady, men,” he called, his voice carrying across the deck. “Wait for my signal.”

The boats were lowered, and a small group of Grim’s men began rowing toward the governor’s ship. In return, a group of prisoners—Grim’s men who had been captured—were led out onto the deck, their hands bound. At the sight of his crew, alive but battered, Grim felt a surge of relief. The exchange was proceeding as planned—at least for now.

But Grim didn’t let his guard down. He knew how these things worked. The moment his men were in the boat and halfway across, the Navy would open fire, and Blackthorne’s ship would swoop in to finish the job. It was a classic pincer move, one that would leave the Revenant trapped with no way out.

Grim’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a gunshot. The exchange had barely begun, and already, things were going awry. One of his men in the boat had slumped over, blood spreading across his chest. Panic rippled through the ranks, but Grim held firm.

“Fire!” he roared, and the Revenant’s cannons roared to life. The ship shuddered as the cannonballs flew toward the Navy ship, splintering wood and sending men sprawling. Chaos erupted on the deck of both ships as musket fire was exchanged, and the smell of gunpowder filled the air.

Grim’s focus was absolute. He barked orders, his sword flashing as he cut down anyone who came too close. The deck of the Revenant became a battlefield, with pirates and naval soldiers locked in brutal combat.

Emma watched in horror as the violence unfolded around her. She had known it would be dangerous, but nothing could have prepared her for the sheer brutality of the fight. Yet, despite her fear, she couldn’t look away. Her eyes were drawn to Grim, who moved with a deadly grace, his every action precise and controlled. He was in his element, a force of nature that seemed unstoppable.

But even Grim couldn’t control everything. As the battle raged on, it became clear that they were outnumbered. Blackthorne’s ship had joined the fray, its cannons adding to the deadly barrage. The Revenant was caught in a deadly crossfire, and it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed.

“Cap’n!” Red shouted, his voice barely audible over the din of battle. “We need to retreat!”

Grim knew he was right. They were outgunned and outmanned. Staying would mean certain death. But retreating meant leaving his men behind—and losing the governor’s daughter, who was still his only leverage.

Grim’s mind raced. He had to make a decision, and fast. His eyes flicked to Emma, who was still standing by the railing, her face pale but determined. She had been right about one thing—her life was his only bargaining chip. Without her, he had nothing.

But abandoning his men wasn’t an option either. He wouldn’t leave them to die at the hands of Blackthorne or the Navy. Grim made his decision in an instant.

“Red, get the men back on board!” Grim ordered. “We’re getting out of here!”

Red’s eyes widened in surprise but he didn’t question the order. He began shouting commands to the crew, and the pirates who had been readying themselves for the exchange quickly scrambled back onto the Revenant. The rowboats were hauled back up, their oarsmen pulling with all their might to return to the ship before it was too late.

Emma watched the chaos, her mind racing. “You’re not leaving me behind?” she asked Grim, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Not a chance,” Grim growled, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward the ship’s wheel. “You’re staying with me.”

The governor’s ship, realizing the double-cross had failed, opened fire with renewed intensity. Cannonballs whizzed through the air, tearing into the Revenant’s hull and sending splinters flying. Blackthorne’s ship closed in from the other side, its cannons adding to the deadly barrage. But the Revenant was faster than both her enemies. Grim’s men, hardened by years of naval battles, worked with precision and speed. The sails were unfurled, catching the wind as the ship lurched forward, breaking free from the deadly trap that had been set for them.

“Full speed ahead!” Grim shouted, his voice rising above the roar of battle. “Get us out of here!”

The Revenant surged forward, its sails billowing as it cut through the waves. The enemy ships gave chase, but they were too late. The pirate ship, battered but not beaten, began to pull away, its crew working in perfect harmony to escape the clutches of death.

Grim kept a firm grip on Emma’s arm as the ship gained speed, dragging her to a safer spot near the mainmast. “You’re not getting away that easily, Miss Sharp,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Emma glared at him, her chest heaving with a mix of fear and fury. “You’ll regret this, Captain Grim.”

Grim met her gaze with a smirk. “Perhaps. But for now, you’re my guest—until I say otherwise.”

Emma yanked her arm free, but she didn’t run. There was nowhere to go. The Revenant was her prison, and Grim was her captor. She had no choice but to bide her time and wait for the moment when she could turn the tables.

As the ship sped away from the battle, Grim’s men began to regroup, tending to the wounded and securing the deck. The immediate danger had passed, but the tension remained. They had escaped, but they were far from safe.

Grim stood at the helm, his mind already racing with the next steps. The battle had cost them dearly, and Blackthorne wouldn’t give up the chase so easily. But for now, they had a lead—and they had the governor’s daughter.

As the night closed in around them, Grim glanced at Emma, who stood defiantly at the railing, her eyes fixed on the dark horizon. She was a fighter, that much was clear. But so was he, and this battle was far from over.

 

[VelvetWhispers]

Chapter Six: Of Tempests and Truces

The Revenant creaked and groaned beneath the weight of its wounds, struggling against the relentless push of the waves. Gideon Grim stood at the helm, his eyes narrowed against the sea spray as he steered his battered ship through the night. The damage from the battle with Blackthorne was worse than he'd let on to the crew. They were limping toward Isla de las Rocas, but even that pirate haven might be too far. And with Emma Sharp aboard, their troubles were only beginning.

Red, his first mate, was at his side, the worry lines on his weathered face deepening with each shudder of the ship. "Cap'n, the men are talking," he said, keeping his voice low enough that the rest of the crew couldn't hear. "They don't like having a woman aboard—especially not one like her."

Grim grunted, his gaze flicking toward the cabin where Emma was being held. "I've noticed. But we don't have a choice, Red. We need to make port and get this ship patched up before we're dead in the water. And until then, she's not leaving my sight."

Red's expression was one of quiet scepticism, but he nodded. "Aye, Cap'n. Just be careful. The men are on edge, and if she tries anything—"

"She won't," Grim cut in, though he wasn't entirely convinced himself. Emma Sharp was no ordinary captive. She had the defiance of someone who wasn't used to being told what to do, and he knew she was already plotting her escape. The challenge now was to stay one step ahead of her.

With a nod to Red, Grim handed off the helm and made his way to the cabin. The night air was thick with salt, and the ship rocked uneasily beneath his feet as he descended the stairs. He paused outside Emma's door, listening for any sign of movement inside. She'd been quiet since he'd allowed her a brief respite on deck, but he knew that didn't mean she was defeated.

Grim unlocked the door and stepped inside. The cabin was dimly lit by a single lantern, casting long shadows across the small space. Emma was seated at the table, her hands folded in her lap, but there was a tension in her posture that told him she was anything but resigned.

"Captain Grim," she said, her voice cool and composed, though there was an edge to it. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Grim leaned against the doorframe, studying her. "We'll be making landfall soon. Isla de las Rocas. It's not a place for someone like you, so you'll stay below deck until we're ready to sail again."

Emma raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. "And what happens after that? Am I to be your prisoner indefinitely?"

"That depends on your father's willingness to negotiate," Grim replied, keeping his tone neutral. He could see the flicker of anger in her eyes, but he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of rising to it. "I'm sure he'll be eager to have you back once we send word."

"And if he's not?" Emma challenged, leaning forward slightly. "What then, Captain Grim? Do you plan to keep me locked away forever?"

Grim's jaw tightened. She was pushing him, testing his resolve, but he wasn't about to let her see any weakness. "You're not my concern," he said evenly. "But if you want to see your father again, I suggest you don't try anything foolish."

Emma's lips curved into a small, mocking smile. "Foolish, Captain? You underestimate me. I'm not some helpless damsel who needs rescuing. I've spent my life surrounded by men who think they can control me, and I've learned a thing or two about how to deal with them."

Grim's eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat, Miss Sharp?"

"Consider it a promise," she replied, her voice soft but firm. "I will find a way off this ship, and when I do, you'll regret ever taking me captive."

For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. Grim could see the determination in her eyes, the fierce independence that had likely driven her father to distraction more than once. She was dangerous in her own way, and he knew better than to underestimate her.

But he wasn't about to let her get the upper hand. "You're welcome to try," Grim said finally, pushing off the doorframe and turning to leave. "But until then, you're still my prisoner."

He closed the door behind him, locking it with a click that echoed in the narrow corridor. As he made his way back to the deck, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a battle of wills—a battle that would test both of them in ways they couldn't yet imagine.

---

Emma sat in the dim cabin, her heart pounding with a mix of frustration and adrenaline. Grim had been so sure of himself, so certain that she was no threat. But he didn't know her—not really. He didn't know how many times she'd outwitted the men who tried to control her, didn't know how much she hated the idea of being anyone's prisoner.

She stood and moved to the small porthole, gazing out at the dark, rolling sea. There had to be a way off this ship, a way to escape before Grim handed her over to whatever dangerous pirate friends he had waiting on Isla de las Rocas. The island's reputation was enough to make her blood run cold. If she ended up there, her chances of getting back to Port Royal—back to her father—would be slim to none.

Emma's mind raced with possibilities. She needed to bide her time, wait for the right moment to strike. Perhaps she could find a way to slip away when they made landfall, or maybe she could convince one of the crew to help her. There had to be someone on board who wasn't entirely loyal to Grim, someone who could be swayed by the promise of gold or freedom.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps outside the cabin. She turned just as the door opened, and a young crewman—barely more than a boy—stepped inside. He looked nervous, his eyes darting around the room as if he expected Grim to materialize out of the shadows.

"What do you want?" Emma asked, crossing her arms and fixing him with a stern gaze.

The boy swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Cap'n said you might want somethin' to eat, miss. Brought you some bread and cheese."

Emma glanced at the tray in his hands, then back at the boy. He was clearly uncomfortable, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. He was probably just as trapped as she was, caught up in a life he hadn't chosen.

"Thank you," she said, her tone softening slightly. "What's your name?"

"Tom, miss," he replied, looking surprised that she'd bothered to ask.

"Well, Tom," Emma said, forcing a small smile, "I appreciate the food. And if you could do me a favour, I'd be grateful."

Tom blinked, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "What kind of favour, miss?"

Emma kept her voice low, her eyes never leaving his. "I need information. Where are we going, and what are Captain Grim's plans for me?"

Tom hesitated, glancing toward the door as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment. "I—uh, I'm not sure, miss. We're headed to some island, but I don't know what the Cap'n's planning. He doesn't tell us much, just gives orders."

Emma nodded, filing the information away. It wasn't much, but it was a start. "Thank you, Tom. And if you hear anything—anything at all—about what's going to happen to me, I'd appreciate it if you let me know."

Tom looked torn, clearly unsure whether to help her or keep his head down and stay out of trouble. But finally, he nodded. "I'll do what I can, miss. But you gotta be careful. The Cap'n—he's a tough one."

"I know," Emma said, her smile fading. "But so am I."

Tom left the cabin, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts once more. She returned to the porthole, watching the dark waves and planning her next move. Grim might think he had the upper hand, but she wasn't about to let him win. She would find a way to escape—one way or another.

---

The Revenant limped on through the night, the crew working tirelessly to keep the ship afloat. Grim stood at the helm, his eyes fixed on the horizon as he steered them toward Isla de las Rocas. The island was a rough place, home to the dregs of the Caribbean, and it was the last place he wanted to take Emma. But with the ship in its current state, he had no other choice.

As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Red approached him once more, his face etched with concern. "Cap'n, we're losin' speed. The damage to the rudder's worse than we thought. We might not make it to Isla de las Rocas before we're dead in the water."

Grim cursed under his breath, glancing at the dark clouds gathering on the horizon. A storm was brewing—just what they needed on top of everything else. "We'll make it," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure he believed it himself. "We have to."

Red didn't look convinced, but he nodded and turned back to the crew, barking orders to keep them working. Grim tightened his grip on the wheel, his mind racing. If they didn't make it to the island, they'd be sitting ducks for any naval ship that happened upon them. And with Emma aboard, the stakes were even higher.

He couldn't afford to lose control of the situation—not now. But as he steered the Revenant into the storm, he couldn't shake the feeling that things were spiralling out of his grasp. Emma was proving to be a far more difficult captive than he'd anticipated, and the tension among the crew was growing with each passing hour.

They needed repairs, they needed supplies, and most of all, they needed to figure out what to do with Emma before she caused even more trouble. But for now, all Grim could do was keep the ship on course and hope they made it to Isla de las Rocas in one piece.

And hope that when they did, he could keep control of the situation long enough to see his plans through.

 

[VelvetWhispers]

Chapter Seven: A Captive with Plans

Emma Sharp stood at the side of the Revenant, watching as the bruised and battered ship made its slow crawl through the rolling Caribbean waves. Her eyes flicked between the crew, busily patching sails and securing lines, and the distant shape of an island on the horizon. She could smell land in the wind, and the idea of it set her heart pounding.

Land meant opportunity. Escape.

She had to be careful, though. Gideon Grim was sharp. A man like him, who had carved out a legend in these waters, wasn't the sort to overlook a scheming captive. But that wouldn't stop her. She hadn't survived her father's rigid control and the political dance of colonial life just to sit idly by while a pirate dragged her from one misfortune to another. No. She would find a way.

But first… she had to deal with the tedium.

With a heavy sigh, she turned away from the sea, her fingers itching for something to do. The crew was in bad shape—worn out from battle and exhaustion, though they still worked with a precision that impressed her. She wasn't one to sit and sulk, so instead, she busied herself with scanning the deck, mentally cataloging where her help might be useful. If nothing else, it would allow her to build some goodwill with these men—men she might need if her escape plan required any support.

She made her way across the deck and approached Tom, the boy who had been kind enough to sneak her food and information. He was struggling with a knot in one of the rigging lines, his face scrunched in concentration.

"Having a bit of trouble there, Tom?" Emma asked, her voice light with amusement.

Tom jumped slightly, blinking up at her with wide eyes. "Uh, no, miss—well, aye, actually. This knot—blast it—won't hold." He tried to tighten it, but the rope slipped free again.

Emma knelt down beside him, surprising herself with how naturally she slid into helping. "Here, let me show you. It's the wrong kind of knot for that thickness of rope." She deftly tied a new one, pulling the line taut with a little snap that made Tom's eyes widen further.

"You—you know knots, miss?"

"I spent enough time around sailors growing up," Emma said with a small smirk. "My father might have thought it unbecoming for a lady, but I found it fascinating."

Tom gave her a grateful grin. "Thanks, miss. Most wouldn't bother with helpin' a deckhand."

"Most people don't know how to be useful," she quipped, standing again, dusting her hands off. "Let me know if you need any more lessons. I'm quite bored."

Tom's grin widened as he returned to his work. Emma felt a small flicker of satisfaction. The crew didn't trust her—how could they?—but she wasn't about to sit on her hands. Besides, making herself useful kept her sharp and observant. Maybe Grim would loosen his guard if he saw she wasn't just plotting escape.

Not that she'd stopped thinking about it.

---

As the Revenant limped toward the distant island, Grim kept one hand on the wheel, the other drumming impatiently against the wood. Isla de las Rocas loomed closer, a jagged outline of cliffs and jungle. It was one of the few places where repairs could be done under the nose of the British Navy, but it was also a place fraught with danger—both from old enemies and former lovers.

"Land ho!" came the call from above, and Grim gritted his teeth. He had been to this island far too many times, but circumstances left him with little choice. His eyes flicked toward Emma, watching her interact with Tom. She was, annoyingly, more useful than he expected.

Damn her.

Red sidled up to him, his expression grim. "Repairs are gonna take time, Cap'n. We'll be needin' supplies, and I don't like the look of the weather comin' in."

"Neither do I," Grim muttered. "But the ship won't last long at sea in its current state. We make port. Briefly."

Red chuckled. "Briefly, eh? I heard tell Tessa still lives on this island."

Grim's jaw tightened. "We won't be staying long enough to stir up old ghosts."

Red's grin widened, his eyes glittering with mischief. "Aye, Cap'n. Though I wouldn't mind a ghost or two myself. Been a long time since I had any good hauntin'."

Grim shot him a look that silenced the chuckling. But it didn't erase the old memories. Tessa, a woman with a temper fiercer than the Caribbean sun and the skill of any pirate who dared step onto a ship. Their history was a complicated knot of passion and betrayal—one Grim had no desire to revisit.

Unfortunately, he knew better than to believe their paths wouldn't cross.

---

Emma felt the ship's change in speed, the faint shift as they turned toward land. She followed Grim's gaze toward the island, her mind whirring. Isla de las Rocas. She'd heard whispers of it before. A pirate's den—a lawless place, dangerous even to those who considered themselves safe among thieves.

She could use that. If Grim had enemies here—and judging by the tension in his shoulders, he likely did—then maybe she could turn that to her advantage.

Her opportunity might be closer than she thought.

---

The Revenant slipped into the hidden cove just as dusk painted the horizon in shades of gold and crimson. The island loomed, a wild and untamed beast, thick with jungle and the stench of salt and rum. The crew hurried to secure the ship, and Grim barked orders, his eyes scanning the cliffs above for any sign of trouble.

The moment they dropped anchor, Emma's heart raced. Now. She had to find a way off this ship, blend into the chaos of the island, and find passage home. She couldn't afford to wait much longer. The only question was how to slip away unnoticed.

As the crew scrambled to offload supplies for repairs, a tall, striking woman appeared at the end of the dock, her silhouette sharp against the dying light. She walked with a swagger that immediately commanded attention, her long black hair whipping in the wind, her dark eyes fixed on Grim.

"Tessa," Grim muttered under his breath. "Of course."

Emma's interest piqued immediately. She watched as the woman approached, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Gideon Grim," Tessa called out, her voice like honey laced with venom. "You've got some nerve showing your face here after what happened last time."

Grim squared his shoulders, his expression unreadable. "I've never been one to stay away when I'm not wanted."

Tessa's smirk widened. "Clearly. Though I see you've brought quite the guest with you this time."

Her gaze shifted to Emma, and for a moment, the two women sized each other up. Emma met her eyes without flinching. She wasn't about to let some pirate queen intimidate her, no matter what history she had with Grim.

"What's it to you?" Grim replied, stepping between the two women.

"Oh, nothing," Tessa purred. "Just curious if she's your latest conquest—or your next problem."

Grim's mouth twitched in what could have been a smile, but his eyes stayed cold. "Neither. I'm here for repairs. Nothing more."

Tessa's laugh was low and dangerous. "You're always here for something, Grim. Just make sure you leave with all your parts intact this time."

With that, she sauntered off, leaving Grim standing with his crew as they unloaded supplies.

Emma glanced at him from the corner of her eye. The tension was palpable, and it only fueled her desire to escape. If Tessa was any indication, Grim had a history on this island that was far more complicated than he was letting on. Maybe, just maybe, she could use that to her advantage.

"Cap'n," Red muttered, stepping up beside him, "We'd best keep an eye on the men. Ain't no tellin' who'll be tempted to disappear once the rum starts flowin'."

Grim nodded but kept his gaze locked on the horizon. "No one leaves the ship without my permission. We make repairs and get out of here. Fast."

As the crew worked through the night, Emma's mind continued to churn. This island might be dangerous, but it was her best chance at escape. All she needed was one slip-up, one moment when Grim wasn't watching—and she would be gone.

But as she glanced back at the ship's captain, she couldn't ignore the growing tangle of emotions that stirred within her. Something about Gideon Grim unnerved her, something that wasn't just fear or anger. And the more time she spent plotting her escape, the more complicated her feelings became.

It was a dangerous game she was playing, but Emma had never been one to back down from a challenge.

And Gideon Grim was proving to be the most challenging opponent of all.