by Aria Bell
Kidnapped by a pirate.
Dra’sten took a step toward me, his smile fading, replaced by a flash of concern. He reached out and took my elbow. “Are you well? You look pale.”
I jerked my elbow out of his hand, very aware of how my skin seemed to hum and flush with heat at his touch. “Don’t touch me.”
He swept another mocking bow. “My apologies, oh exalted one. The common scum must not touch the royalty.”
I didn’t appreciate that at all. My body should be on my side, not turning traitor on me. My sex-starved body couldn’t be yearning for him to bend me over the desk and give me the fuck of my life at the same time my brain plotted how to escape his clutches. Those were mutually incompatible goals, thank you very much, and I intended my very sensible brain to understand that.
“And I’m not pale,” I snapped at him. “That’s my normal skin color. To be blunt, you look cyanotic to me, but you don’t see me pawing at you and asking if you’re getting enough oxygen, do you? No.”
That damn grin spread across his face as he stood there looking at me.
I glared at him as hard as I could. “I don’t know how you get any pirating done when you spend the majority of your time leering at me and smirking like a loon.”
His grin widened. “I’m sorry. For a moment you looked like a little wilting flower, and I didn’t want you to collapse.”
After glancing him over again and taking in his massive height, width, and solid bulk of muscle beneath that absurd synth-leather long coat, I decided slapping him would be unwise. “You’re mocking me,” I said coldly. “And I don’t appreciate it.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. We ignorant, yet dashing, pigs simply can’t help ourselves.” He reached into the pocket of his long coat for something. My eyes widened when he pulled out a pair of bindercuffs. “It’s probably best if you wear these.”
He held the bindercuffs up in front of my face. I gaped at them like a fish as uneasy dread swirled in my stomach. “Why do I need these? You’re afraid a little human like me might hurt a big, bad Jardan pirate with a crew full of barbarians at his back? I’m honored. But I prefer not to face your hoards with my hands bound.”
His expression was amused. “It’s purely for public relations purposes. Making sure we send the right message to your father. You know, so he understands the seriousness of the situation.”
“Is anything you do serious?”
He gave me a look that suddenly made me wish I hadn’t taunted him. “Make no mistake, my lady. This is deadly serious. My men want a ransom. And if they don’t get it, blood will be shed. Yours, and mine. So I suggest you do your part to make sure your father pays for your safe return.” His pale blue eyes bore into mine like blades of ice as he nudged the bindercuffs at me. “Now. I usually I like to court a lady before breaking out the kinky toys, but time is of the essence. I’m sure you’ll forgive me if I cuff you now, and save the courting for later.”
I stared at him, my fear and outrage so huge I didn’t know where to start. His charming banter aside, he was right. This was no pleasure cruiser. This was a pirate ship. And his crew wasn't far from being the barbarian hoard I’d called them. Captain Dra’sten had already lopped off one of their hands as easy as you please. But if the entire crew had their hopes set on a big payday when my father paid their ransom, they were in for a big disappointment. I didn’t doubt for a moment that they would be angry enough to spill blood. And if I were suddenly of no value to them…
Blood will be shed. Yours, and mine. The captain was afraid for not only me, but himself. He was afraid that if my father didn’t pay, then the crew would be angry enough to, what? Kill him? Mutiny?
I held out my hands, and he gave me a reassuring smile. “See? I told you when we met you were a smart little human.”
The bindercuffs were cold against my wrists when he snapped them on. I didn’t at all like the feeling of helplessness that overcame me at having my hands bound. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t helpless against a ship full of armed Jardan anyway, but this just pounded the message home. I would do well to remember that despite the captain’s bluster, I was no guest. I was a prisoner.
He stepped back, pushed the button to open the door, and gestured for me to precede him. “After you, my lady.”
I lifted my chin, forced my expression calm, and walked out the door with my hands bound in front of me. To face my father.
“Captain Trasker,” he said.
I stopped and turned back, shocked he’d finally decided to use my name instead of poking fun at me.
His expression was uncharacteristically grave. “No matter what, be proud of who you are, Captain Trasker.”
I stared at him, not knowing what to say. He nodded and walked past me down the corridor. After a moment, I started after him, wondering what that had been about.
If I hadn’t fully understood the implications of being a prisoner aboard a pirate ship, it all became clear when we stepped onto the bridge of the Defiance Blade. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected the bridge of a pirate ship to look like—maybe exposed panels and dangling wires, with a bunch of drunken crewmen brandishing weapons and singing space ditties. But it hadn’t been this.
The bridge was almost military in its orderliness and efficiency. Jardan crewmates manned their stations under the watchful eye of a Jardan male covered with shift tattoos, presumably the first mate. He turned as we entered and glanced me over, head to toe. Whereas my traitor body always involuntarily flushed with heat when that bastard Dra’sten looked me over, this guy’s glance left me feeling chilled and exposed. Vulnerable. Frightened. The look in his eyes was pure greed over a core of malice. I wasn’t a person to him, I was a paycheck.
And if I also hadn’t understood the implications of what could happen if his men didn’t get their ransom, those hit me like a rock now as well. Just one look at the first mate and it all became frighteningly clear. If they didn’t get the money they expected, there would indeed be bloodshed. A glance at the rest of the crew manning their stations, and those gathered around the periphery, watching silently as the captain led me in, some with their hands on sword hilts, others with their huge arms crossed casually over their enormous chests, drove home the reality of what was going on around me. My men want a ransom. And if they don’t get it, blood will be shed. Yours, and mine.
The captain feared a mutiny if my father didn’t pay up. We were both in danger.
I froze just inside the doorway, then flinched when Dra’sten put a hand on the small of my back to urge me forward. I obeyed, mostly because I didn’t appreciate how my traitorous body reacted so eagerly to his touch.
“Captain,” the first mate said. “I have our subspace signal ready to send. It can’t be traced.”
“Good,” Captain Dra’sten replied as we moved to the middle of the bridge, right in front of his captain’s chair. A chair that was so much bigger than mine I would feel like a child sitting in it. “Signal Duke Trasker.”
Hearing my father’s name sent another wash of dread through me, and my knees suddenly felt wobbly. I gritted my teeth and told myself to get over it, to show some courage. Some fire. I wasn’t some frightened kid anymore, groveling for forgiveness over a missed curfew. I was a woman grown. I was captain of a hugely expensive cruise ship that cost billions, and I oversaw the safety of thousands of lives.
I might be prisoner to the Jardan pirates. But I was not a prisoner to my father.
Captain Dra’sten turned and gave me a look that nearly melted my insides. The temperature in the room seemed to rise around me, drawing a sheen of perspiration to my brow, my neck, my breasts, and my nipples tightened to hard nubs. He gave me just a hint of a smile, then he looked away, turning his attention back to the viewscreen. The smile fell off his face as if he’d flipped a switch. The muscles stood out around his square jaw, his gaze hard, and he moved one of his hands to the hilt of his sword sheathed at his side. Every centimeter of him seemed like a warrior poised to do b
attle. I had to admit he made an impressive sight. If there was one ally to have in the room, it was certainly Captain Kash Dra’sten.
Then the viewscreen switched from the image of the starfield to a screen with my family crest in silver on a blue background. All the lust that had been simmering in me an instant ago immediately vanished as unwelcome reality set in again. My heart began to thud in my chest, and my mouth felt dry as dust.
A moment later my father’s face appeared. He immediately locked eyes with me. As much as I wanted to see relief on his face, I didn’t hold much hope for it. The look in his eyes was cold and harsh, judgmental…disappointed. That look made me feel hollow inside. It always had.
“Sylvis,” he said, his voice icier than a comet.
“Father.” I was afraid my voice would come out as a timid squeak, but it surprised me and almost matched his for icy courtesy.
He looked much older than I remembered, his face deeply lined and gray salting his dark hair.
His gaze slid over to Dra’sten, and his mouth tightened even further. “Was it necessary to parade her in front of me with her hands bound?”
Dra’sten folded his arms across his chest. “It’s for the safety of my crew. It took two or three of my best warriors to restrain her. She’s fiercer than a wild dark’stra. And she bites.”
I had to work to keep the disbelief off my face. Dra’sten glanced at me…and his mouth quirked and his eyebrow twitched the slightest bit. Then he faced the viewscreen again as if he wasn’t the craziest person in the entire quadrant.
“I knew this would happen,” my father said, his gaze boring into mine. “Your mother will be heartbroken.”
“But not you, Father?”
“I warned you to obey me. You disgraced this family. All you needed to do was marry Duke Qegort, and you couldn’t even do that one simple thing for the sake of House Trasker.”
Dra’sten cleared his throat. “As much as I hate to interrupt this touching family reunion, we have business to conclude. You demanded to see your daughter. You’ve seen her. Now we will make our demands. First, the ransom.”
“You will have no ransom, pirate,” my father said before locking gazes with me again. I refused the urge to look away. “Do what you will with her. Kill her. She’s already dead to me.”
I knew this would happen. I’d warned the captain that they’d get no ransom from my father. Now we were all doomed.
Around us, the crew began to mumble unhappily among themselves and hands fell to sword hilts. Postures went from relaxed to aggressive. The first mate took a step closer to the captain’s chair, as if to threaten my father, or the captain, I wasn't sure which.
My father gave me one more look before turning his gaze back to the captain. “But I am willing to broker an agreement,” my father continued. “If she agrees to my demands.”
“Your time of making demands is over,” Dra’sten warned. He seemed to be feeling the change in the energy on the bridge, and his charm was completely absent. Instead, he wore the terrifying visage of an angry Jardan warrior. I suddenly felt very alarmed.
My father’s smile was smug and unperturbed. “That’s where you’re wrong, pirate. You want my money far more than I want this disgrace of a daughter. I will not pay her ransom unless I get something out of it that benefits me. Now, to my demands.” He turned that haughty smile on me. Clearly he thought he had me right where he wanted me. “I will pay these men for your release, Sylvis.”
I glared daggers at him. I knew exactly what he wanted. What his demands would be. But I asked anyway. “What do you want?”
Cold dread filled my gut as he drew the moment out. He knew exactly how to play a room. Finally, he smiled his most political smile. No warmth, all polite power and condescension. “You come home and play the role you were born to play. I’ve spoken with Duke Qegort. His first wife died after giving him no heirs, and he’s agreed to marry you, although you’ve devalued yourself to us all with your selfish antics. But the substantial dowry I’ve offered has caught his interest. This will re-establish your line in House Trasker and in the royal lineage, so your offspring will not be barred from succession, if such were to be the case.”
I looked him straight in the eye. This had nothing to do with restoring my place in the family lineage or protecting my future children. It was a punishment. Pure and simple. I would never give up my entire life and submit to a soft, weak, aristocrat with a purple moustache and appetites not even the lowest of the brothels could satisfy.
“What say you, Sylvis?”
I took a deep breath. All around me, the crew were glaring at me with fire and greed in their eyes, smiling as if their ship had just come in.
“I find your terms unacceptable.”
No one moved and no one spoke. The tension in the air around me grew even heavier. I was surrounded by enemies. The pirates wanted their ransom. My father wanted revenge and control. The whole thing disgusted me. Even though I knew I’d regret it, I refused to face my father and buckle under.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d hoped that maybe things would’ve been different. I suspected there would be strings attached. I might have been browbeaten or starved or threatened into agreeing if I had looked into my father’s eyes, the eyes of the man who’d disowned me, and seen…something. Sadness, disappointment, anything that might indicate that he at least still loved me. But looking into his eyes, I saw nothing. Only the desire to punish me. I’d been a fool to hope I’d see even a bit of love.
My father’s rage burned in his eyes. “Think long and hard right now, Sylvis. I can easily destroy you. All it would take would be a single call to Xexe Moray Corp letting them know a certain captain of theirs deliberately aided pirates in raiding their prize ship and then escaped with them. You would never work on a starship again, not even a garbage scow. You’d do best to reconsider.”
My throat burned. My thoughts buzzed in my head. There was a ringing in my ears that seemed to suck the sound out of the room. I forced out my reply anyway. “You’re a fool, Father. I’ll never work again in any case. Without your money, I’m of no value on this ship. I will be dead the moment you break the signal.”
My father turned to Dra’sten again. “You see what I have to deal with? Endless defiance. Even now. Perhaps it would be best to let her stew for a few weeks until she changes her mind.”
“You would trust a bunch of pirates to babysit your daughter?” Dra’sten said unbelievingly.
My father shrugged with a complete lack of concern. “We all have something we want, pirate. You want a windfall of credits. I want a daughter who will do the one thing I raised her for, and that is continuing the lineage of House Trasker. She wants to escape from your prison. All I ask is that you do no lasting damage to her that will prevent her from producing an heir.”
The crew began all arguing at once. Dra’sten held up his hand for silence.
“And remember, Captain,” my father said. “You contacted me. As far as I’m concerned, she’s already dead.”
I pressed back the tears of anger and frustration and shame and remorse and a hundred other things—of hopelessness. That was what I was feeling. Hopelessness.
“You should remember something too, Father,” I managed to say without sobbing. My voice came out dry and tight, vibrating with anger, while inside my heart was breaking. I should’ve known. I hadn’t expected anything else. But it hurt all the same. Hearing it from his own mouth…
“And what is that?” he asked, as if there was nothing I could say that was worth hearing.
“Remember, Father, that I left you. I refused the offer of being the Duke’s wife. What makes you think I’d ever go crawling back to him? Or you?”
I could feel Dra’sten’s eyes on me. It was hard to ignore him, but I tried my best. The blazing anger at my father helped. My father glared at me as if I was the scoundrel here and I’d just robbed him of his entire fortune.
Captain Dra’sten’s expression was dark, angr
y. He didn’t seem amused by the turn this had taken, and from the atmosphere around me, neither was the rest of the crew.
As I stood there looking around me and at my father, it became abundantly clear. I was dead either way. Either I died at the hand of the depraved duke—strange how his first wife had died after failing to produce an heir—or at the hand of the Jardan pirates when I outlived my usefulness.
Then, the craziness of it all hit me. If I were to die, the least I could do was make my bastard of a father realize he couldn’t simply snap his fingers and control me, the captain, and the entire universe.
“You know what?” I said. “You can forget letting me stew over your terms. I’d rather be abandoned, tossed to these pirates to kill than give in to you. I’d rather become a pirate than be like you.”
“You would make as poor a pirate as you make a daughter,” my father snarled.
I whirled on Dra’sten and put my hands on my hips. “Pirate ships take on new crew all the time, right? Dangerous work. High turnover. What do I need to do?”