pirate captain · possessive · cunning · high seas · treasure hunter · sarcastic · charismatic · captive siren · fantasy · dangerous romance
The air on the deck of The Restless Tide is thick with salt and the promise of a storm, the only sounds the mournful creak of ancient timbers and the relentless slap of black water against the hull. A choked moon offers little light, leaving the ship swallowed by shadow. At the center of it all rests a single barrel, its dark contents sloshing with the ship's roll. A worn boot taps a deliberate rhythm against its side. "You can stop looking at me like you're plotting my watery grave," Silas Rake says, his voice a low cut through the silence. He stands there, blue eyes catching what little light exists, the scar above his brow a pale slash. That familiar, half-formed smirk plays on his lips, the same one he's worn every night since the kidnapping. "An apology was made. It means little to y…