She stood near the rail of the Hunter Shark, hauling a line through a pulley while the rest of the crew argued over a rigging knot. Salt wind whipped strands of her dark hair across her face, but her eyes were fixed on the distance.
The clouds weren’t normal storm clouds.
They moved too fast.
Too violently.
The air had changed as well. The breeze carried a sharp metallic scent, and the sea beneath the ship had begun to swell in slow, uneasy breaths.
Eva’s stomach tightened.
She had seen this before.
Not on a pirate ship.
But years ago, when she was small and her parents’ merchant vessel had tried to outrun a storm in the North Atlantic.
“Captain!” she shouted suddenly.
Several pirates turned in surprise.
Tom Fletcher sneered from across the deck, his shoulder still wrapped in a rough bandage.
“No one asked the dock rat.”
Eva ignored him.
She stepped forward again.
“Captain!”
Jack Hunter stood near the wheel, one hand resting casually on the railing. He looked relaxed, almost bored, as if storms were simply another part of the scenery.
His eyes slid toward Eva.
“Yes?”
“That storm—”
She pointed to the horizon.
“It’s coming too fast.”
Jack followed her gaze.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he tilted his head slightly.
“Hmm.”
The crew began to notice it too.
The wind rose sharply, snapping the sails like gunshots.
Waves slapped harder against the hull.
One of the pirates muttered, “That’s not good.”
Another squinted at the sky.
“Storm’s forming weird.”
Tom crossed his arms.
“It’s just wind.”
Eva shook her head.
“No. It’s a squall line.”
Several men looked at her blankly.
Sebastian Black, still chained near the mast where the crew kept him during daylight hours, spoke calmly.
“She’s right.”
The pirates turned.
Sebastian nodded toward the horizon.
“That formation means violent winds.”
Jack’s lips curved slightly.
“Well.”
He clapped his hands once.
“Now it’s interesting.”
The wind roared louder.
The first wave hit the side of the ship like a cannon blast.
Men staggered.
Barrels rolled across the deck.
“Reef the sails!” Jack barked suddenly.
The crew exploded into motion.
Ropes flew.
Men climbed the rigging like frantic spiders.
Eva grabbed a loose line before it could whip someone across the face.
Rain began falling in thick, icy sheets.
Within seconds, the world became a blur of wind, water, and chaos.
The Hunter Shark pitched violently as towering waves rose around them.
“Hold the mast!” someone screamed.
A sailor slipped from the rigging and crashed onto the deck with a sickening thud.
Eva braced herself against the railing as another wave crashed over the ship.
Saltwater slammed into her chest, nearly knocking her off her feet.
The ocean roared like a living beast.
“Cut that rope!” Jack shouted.
“No!” Eva yelled suddenly.
Everyone froze.
Even Jack looked at her sharply.
She pointed to the sail.
“If you cut it, the mast will take the full wind!”
Jack studied the lines for half a second.
Then he grinned.
“Listen to the girl!”
The crew hesitated—but obeyed.
Instead of cutting the rope, they tightened another line, shifting the sail’s angle.
The mast groaned.
But it held.
Sebastian watched Eva closely, rain soaking his dark hair.
“You’ve seen this before,” he said quietly.
Eva didn’t answer.
Another monstrous wave lifted the ship almost vertically.
Men slid across the deck.
Tom slammed into a barrel and cursed loudly.
“Secure the cargo!” Jack roared.
Eva ran toward the lower hatch.
If the cargo shifted, the ship could capsize.
She threw open the hatch and climbed down into the dark hold.
The ship lurched violently.
Crates slammed against the walls.
Barrels rolled wildly across the floor.
Eva grabbed the nearest rope and tied it around a stack of cargo.
Her fingers moved quickly despite the chaos.
Another crash shook the ship.
Water began leaking through the seams of the hull.
Eva’s breath quickened.
This was exactly how her parents’ ship had died.
The storm.
The shifting cargo.
The screaming crew.
She tied another knot harder.
“Not this time,” she whispered.
Above deck, thunder exploded across the sky.
Lightning split the clouds open.
The ocean turned white with rage.
Jack Hunter stood at the wheel like a man enjoying a dance with death.
His coat whipped violently in the wind.
His eyes gleamed.
“Hard to port!” he shouted.
The helmsman struggled to control the wheel.
“It’s not responding!”
Jack grabbed the wheel himself.
“Then I’ll do it.”
The ship groaned as he forced it against the wind.
Behind him, Sebastian watched everything carefully.
Even in chains.
Even as waves crashed over the deck.
He watched Eva when she climbed back up from the cargo hold, soaked and breathing hard.
“You secured the cargo,” he said.
Eva nodded.
“The barrels were shifting.”