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CHAPTER4
Maren
I thought I had died.
Once upon a time, when I was young and probably being a pain to my sisters, my mother told me that if Syrens were bad they never achieved immortality in the afterlife, and instead they became the sea foam on the waves. I was certain that the moment I hit the water that I had dissolved into that very foam, punishment for trading my tail away for legs that don’t even work well half the time, for turning my back on my family forever, for forsaking what the gods made me.
I’d had thoughts of letting go for a long time prior, of course. Sometimes the thoughts were truly suicidal, other times they were desperate wishes for a different life, for an escape. But when I thought I was dying I realized how easily I succumbed to the idea of death.
I forgot about the ship and Aerik and Daphne. I just thought of my family. I thought of starting over. I thought of all my regrets.
There have been too many regrets.
The water was so very cold and dark and my dress was so heavy and I thought maybe instead of swimming to shore, I’d just sink to my own watery grave and finally be done with it.
I wanted to become sea foam.
And then I heard shouting. Yelling.
A strange male voice, a vaguely Scottish accent.
I opened my eyes to see a man swimming toward me, grinning as if we had both gone for a swim together.
He called mePrincess.Told me he was here to rescue me, but from the triumphant and devilish look on his face, I knew he wasn’t my rescue.
He was a pirate.
So I did what I always yearned to do to Aerik.
I punched the man in the face, feeling the satisfying snap of bone under my knuckles, and started to swim away, as fast as my dress would let me.
I didn’t get far.
The man was taken by surprise by my hit (as was I, quite honestly) but it did nothing to slow him down.
Instead, he grabbed me around the waist and wrapped his arm around me, as if we were lovers going for a stroll, and started swimming toward the ship, so fast and strong that he caused a ripple of envy through me, for once upon a time, I was able to swim that way as well.
It shouldn’t have been possible for a man to be so strong, and that’s when I knew what I know now. This was no ordinary man.
This was the notorious pirate, Captain Bones.
And I was doomed.
“I have the princess,” the captain announces as he drags me on board the ship. I don’t know how he was able to hang on to me, despite my kicking and squirming and the fact that I weigh a lot in a soaked dress, and pull me up the rope onto the deck of his ship, but he did it like I was only a cumbersome sack of potatoes over his shoulder.
I fall to the deck in an unceremonious heap, splinters going into the heels of my palms as I break my fall. Someone snickers and I look up, my hair half-loose and falling over my face and I know I look like a madwoman.
There are three pirates gathered around me. To my surprise, one of them is a pale woman, wearing her stays laced on top of a billowy men’s shirt above wide petticoat breeches, and her red hair in a braid down her back. For a moment I think that maybe she’s another woman that’s been taken and ravaged by this gang of devils but from the amused gleam in her eyes, I don’t think that’s the case. She’s the one that snickered.
The other two pirates happen to be the roguish captain, and a very tall Black man. There’s something about the two of them that are catching me off-guard, and it takes me a moment to realize what it is. I had been expecting the pirates to look like dirty dogs wearing stained and ragged salt-bleached clothing, and yet they don’t look anything of the sort. Granted, the captain is soaking wet and they’re wearing an eclectic assortment of clothes, yet they’re clean looking, the clothes could be tailored.
“You sure she’s the princess?” the Black man asks as he peers at me curiously, his accent sounding Spanish or Portuguese.
“I’d wager so,” the captain says, reaching down and grabbing me by my arm, his grip tight and bruising as he hauls me up to my feet. “Care to refute that, Your Highness?”
I stare at the captain, refusing to be intimidated by him. Strangely, I thought I’d see his nose broken, bruised and bloodied from my fist, but there isn’t a mark on him. I’m shocked at how disappointed I feel, as if I was needing to draw blood. How quickly my morals have descended.
“Where is Daphne?” I demand, raising my chin and meeting the pirate captain in the eyes. It’s dark so it’s hard to discern, but they seem colorless.
