The sea was nothing like Eva Thorne had imagined.
From the docks of London, ships had always looked like freedom.
From inside one, they felt like a floating prison.
The Hunter Shark groaned constantly—wood creaking, ropes snapping against the wind, sails cracking overhead like thunder. The air below deck smelled worse than the Thames docks ever had: damp wood, sweat, rotting food, and the sharp bite of salt.
And Eva lived at the very bottom of it.
Literally.
The lowest deck of the ship was reserved for storage, rats, and the people no one cared about.
Eva had been assigned all three.
“Move, rat!”
A boot kicked her ribs.
Eva gasped but didn’t cry out. She rolled onto her side and forced herself back to her knees.
Tom Fletcher stood above her, grinning like a hyena.
Tom wasn’t the biggest pirate on the ship, but he didn’t need to be. What he lacked in size, he made up for in cruelty. He was one of Captain Jack Hunter’s favored men—loud, violent, and eager to prove it.
He liked tormenting Eva.
“Did I tell you to rest?” Tom sneered.
Eva wiped sweat from her forehead.
“I was just finishing the rope repairs.”
Tom kicked the coil of rope beside her, sending it scattering across the floor.
“Now you can start again.”
Laughter erupted from the pirates nearby.
Eva bent down silently and began gathering the rope.
Her hands were already blistered. Salt water burned in every open cut.
Three weeks.
She had been aboard the Hunter Shark for three weeks.
Three weeks of hauling cargo, scrubbing decks, patching sails, and enduring the pirates’ endless mockery.
Women were bad luck at sea.
Everyone reminded her of that daily.
“Careful,” one pirate muttered loudly. “Storms follow girls.”
Another spat in her direction.
“Should’ve thrown her overboard.”
Tom crouched beside her.
“You know,” he said softly, “the captain’s been real generous letting you live.”
Eva kept her head down.
“Yes.”
Tom leaned closer, his breath hot and sour.
“But I’m not so kind.”
His hand grabbed her arm.
“You ever been with a man before, dock rat?”
Eva’s stomach clenched.
“Let go.”
Tom laughed.
“Or what?”
Around them, several pirates stopped working.
Watching.
Waiting.
Eva’s mind raced.
She was outnumbered.
Outmatched.
But she wasn’t helpless.
Not anymore.
Because every night, when the crew slept, Eva had been learning.
Watching.
Memorizing.
She had watched how they tied knots, how they balanced during storms, how they handled knives and pistols.
And she had been studying one person in particular.
The man chained near the back of the lower deck.
Sebastian Black.
Former Royal Navy officer.
Prisoner.
And the only man aboard who didn’t treat her like garbage.
Sebastian looked up from where he sat against the wall, iron shackles wrapped around his wrists.
His calm gray eyes met Eva’s.
Wait.
The silent message was clear.
Not yet.
Eva forced herself to breathe slowly.
Tom squeezed her arm harder.
“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself.”
Something inside Eva went cold.
She had endured too much already.
London.
Bill Morgan.
The docks.
She would not become another man’s toy.
Her fingers slid slowly toward the small knife hidden beneath the coil of rope.
Tom didn’t notice.
He was too busy enjoying the power.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
Eva obeyed.
The pirates watched eagerly.
Tom shoved her against a wooden beam.
“You know what happens to girls who sneak onto pirate ships?”
Eva’s voice was quiet.
“No.”
“They belong to the crew.”
Laughter exploded again.
Tom grabbed her coat.
That was when Eva moved.
Fast.
Her hand flashed upward.
The knife sliced across Tom’s shoulder before he could react.
The blade sank deep.
Tom screamed.
Blood splattered across the wooden floor.
For a heartbeat, the entire deck froze.
No one expected the skinny dock girl to fight back.
Tom staggered backward, clutching his shoulder.
“You little—!”
He lunged for her.
Eva didn’t run.
She stepped forward.
And drove the knife deeper.
Tom collapsed to his knees with a howl.
Silence filled the lower deck.
Every pirate stared at Eva.
Breathing hard.
Knife dripping red.
She didn’t look scared anymore.
She looked dangerous.
“Anyone else?” she asked quietly.
Footsteps thundered above them.
The hatch burst open.
Captain Jack Hunter stepped down onto the lower deck.
His eyes took in the scene instantly.
Tom bleeding.
Pirates frozen.
Eva holding the knife.
Jack raised an eyebrow.
“Well,” he said slowly.
“This looks interesting.”
Tom groaned.
“Captain—she stabbed me!”
Jack walked closer.