The Pirate And The Amazon

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
First draft of a short story for a contest

Submitted: March 21, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 21, 2017



“Get your filthy hands off of me!” Amara shouted, fighting against the many hands that restrained her, as they carried her through the dank, dark alleyway by her arms.

“Blimey! This landlubbing lass is a fighter,” said one greasy haired, pot-bellied man with rotten teeth.

“I can't wait ter taste her, Griffin. She smells divine,” another one said with a sniff, glancing at the chunky one while stroking his long beard and grinning a toothless grin.

“Wait, Christophe. This is wrong,” a scrawny pirate said to the bearded one, adjusting his eye patch nervously and frowning. “I don't think the captain would approve.”

“Thank you. Finally someone I can reason with,” Amara said with a sigh of relief as she flashed the skinny one and appreciative smile, playing nice.

“Yer right, lad,” the chubby one agreed with the thin one. “We should take the lass ter the Captain as a gift!”

“Somebody help me!” Amara shouted, straining against the three of them as soon as she realized she couldn't reason with them.

A few people turned to look at her curiously, but quickly scurried away from the situation as fast as their legs could carry them. The fear on their faces was evident by their wide-eyed expressions and raised eyebrows. No one wanted to get involved in a confrontation with pirates. It was understandable, but still not helpful.

“Cowards!” she screamed, bucking and pulling against the fleshy restraints that bound her.

“Arg, muzzle the wench, matey,” the fat one hissed, his foul-smelling breath making Amara want to barf. Her stomach clenched and she recoiled away from him.

“Shame ter waste such a pretty mouth,” the bearded one grinned even as he pulled out a grungy, used bandana from his pants pocket.

“Don't you dare,” she said through gritted teeth as he leaned in with a sly smile. The man held the back of her head and forced his lips against hers roughly, his tongue slipping between her teeth and invading her mouth. Without hesitation, she bit down. Hard. His eyes bulged as he tried to pry her clamped jaw open with his calloused hands. Amara didn't stop, even when she tasted the coppery blood. She was a trained Warrior and couldn't figure out, for the life of her, how three lowly men captured her so easily. Let alone, how they were able to successfully restrain her and drag her away from her Mission. She had a new Mission now and she wouldn't stop until they were all dead. They would all pay. Every last one of them.

“Let go of him!” the porky one yelled; Pain exploded in her skull as someone bashed her in the head with a cane, causing her to see stars.

“The captain ought ter love ‘er. She's got fire,” she heard a gritty new voice say as her body went limp and she was banished into the darkness of her mind.


“Wake up, sleeping beauty. Time ter meet the Captain,” said a gruff voice with a hard tap on her cheek.

Amara's eyes snapped open and she growled menacingly at the stranger, tugging against the iron chains that connected her wrists together behind her back.

“You'll regret imprisoning me pirate, mark my words,” Amara hissed, doing her best to not wince at the pain from her recent head injury even as it caused her vision to blur and her skull to throb.

“Oh will I now?” Griffin, the husky pirate asked with a sneer, his breath washing over her in nauseating waves.

She turned her head away in an attempt to avoid his scent, which turned her stomach. He reached for her, grasping her by the sides of her mouth hard with one hand and squeezing, making her lips pucker as he turned her head roughly back to face him. He tangled his other hand in her loose waves near her sore spot and yanked, hard causing her to grunt as white hot pain shot through her skull. As he brought his face closer hers, she spat in his face to the best of her ability, jerking her head away and hissing at the pain, forgetting momentarily that his hand was still in her hair.

“Ye bilge sucking wench!” He cried, backhanding her in the face causing her eyes to tear as she blinked them back.

“How dare you touch me,” she ground out between clenched teeth, her voice low and threatening.

While he was distracted, wiping the saliva from his face, she pushed off against the floor with her feet, which were also bound with chains, catching the rotund man off guard and knocking him over. He sat up quickly, with some effort as his crew mates chuckled at his discomfort, his back to her. In one swift move, she swiveled around and had her leg chain wrapped around his throat and was pulling him backwards to the floor of the ship with her powerful legs, choking him. She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes, scooting forward to plant her feet flat on the ground, pinning him down.

“Help… Me,” he managed to gurgle to his mates, who stood by in stunned silence, his eyes bugging out and his face turning crimson with the effort of speaking.

“I told you that you would regret it,” she ground out with a victorious grin, not letting up with her legs.

He pulled hopelessly at the chain around his neck as his crew jolted forward to rescue him, finally reacting to the direness of the situation. It took six men, four for her legs and two for her arms, to finally pry her off. Griffin gasped and rubbed his throat with trembling hands, clearly shaken. She struggled against them, trying to break her chains, but they held fast to her.

“Take her ter the Captain, he'll know what ter do with her,” the traumatized and humiliated man croaked out hoarsely, not taking his eyes off of her.


She laughed as they carried her up the stairs and out to the deck, adrenaline coursing through her veins at the thrill of the small victory. Her celebration was cut short as they plopped her, unceremoniously, into a hard, wooden chair inside what she assumed was the captain's quarters. She growled at them and they backed away cautiously, having witnessed her violent outbursts first hand.

“Here's the fresh meat, Captain. Trussed up and ready fer ye,” Christophe chuckled, winking at Amara when she bristled at the comment.

“Thanks boys. I've got it from ‘ere,” said a gravelly voice from across the room.

“Are ye sure, Captain? She's a bit of a handful.”

Amara snorted in an unladylike fashion at his remark, rolling her eyes.

“It's fine, Beck. I can handle it. Ye hearties go swab the deck,” said the mysterious man as he turned around, and leaned against the front of his dark, wooden desk.

Amara balked at the hulking, giant of a man as he nodded his dismissal to his crew. After they had gone, he flicked his cold,calculating, steely gray eyes her direction, sending shivers down her spine. His long dark brown hair hung in waves past his broad, muscular shoulders, messy and wild. He stroked his close shaven beard then he pushed away from the desk to meander closer to her.

“Welcome ter the Dirty Sea Dog,” said the Captain, gesturing.

Amara grunted and looked away, bidding her time while looking for a way out.

“I hear that you have been giving me men some hardship.”

She felt a small tremor ripple through her before she closed herself off from the offending emotion, narrowing her eyes at him and clenching her jaw.

“This displeases me,” he said, contradicting his statement with a smirk, “Yet, it amuses me, somewhat, as well.”

Amara’s icy blue eyes glared in his direction, not caring what displeased or amused him. At least, that's what she told herself as he laughed aloud at her annoyance. A strange warmth washed over her, even as her eyes narrowed and she raised her chin in defiance.

“I suppose yer giving me the silent treatment, is that it? That's terribly rude of ye, given the fact that yer a guest on my ship, is it not?” he said, baiting her.

“Is this how you treat all your guests?” She spat out, shaking her chains, unable to hold her tongue any longer in front of this large, arrogant man.

“So, she does speak. Wonderful. This will make the transition ‘ere much easier,” he chuckled, squatting down onto a stool across from her that was obviously made for a much smaller person.

She blew out a breath haughtily and looked away from his well sculpted face and muscles that rippled under his white shirt every time he moved.

“Oh come now. Don't start ignoring me again, love. We were making such progress. It's bad luck ter move backwards, ye know.”

“I'm not staying. I don't belong here,” Amara said through clenched teeth, her frosty gaze colliding with his smoky grey ones, as she whipped her head back towards him.

“That's a shame. I'm rather enjoying bickering with you. Besides, do any of us really belong anywhere?” He countered, talking in riddles.

Amara only grunted at him, seething.

He chuckled lightly, scratching his hairy chin, “I'm Captain Lucian Grey. Who might you be?”

She hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly, “Amara. Although, I don't know why that matters if I'm just here to be your slave.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded, nodding.

“Why am I on your ship?” She asked instead of answering, deliberately choosing to not engage in his philosophical question.

“Oh that,” he said dismissively, waving his hand and leaning forward, much to her dismay, “Ye were chosen by me men ter serve the needs of the crew, and meself, respectively.”

“I'm servant to no man,” she responded, fighting against her restraints once more.

“We might have a problem then.”

“Aren't you a little too pretty to be a monster pirate?” Amara deflected, appraising his appearance as best as possible in the shoddy lighting.

“I wouldn't exactly call this pretty, would ye?” he grunted as his eyes flashed with anger. He brought his face closer to her, pointing out the long scar running from his eyebrow down his cheekbone. “Sit.”

Amara stared at his gruesome, silvery pink scar unabashedly and shrugged her shoulders as she plunked down onto the chair, “I've seen worse.”

“Oh have you now?” He replied as he sat back in his chair, a smirk on his lips.

“Yes,” Amara replied quickly, the need to escape not feeling so urgent, which confused her.

“And where are ye from, that ye saw such heinous things?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, curiosity tainting his eyes that were now the shade of polished metal.

“Somewhere far from here. You wouldn't know it,” She bit her lip and tilted her chin up to try to keep the truth from tumbling out.

“I see,” he said stroking his chin absentmindedly, staring at her intensely, “Yer not much of a conversationalist, are ye?”

“Not when I'm being held against my will,” she countered, tearing her eyes away from his to play with her chains, willing herself to run, but her legs refused to budge.

“Point taken,” he said with raised eyebrows, “Ye have a rather unusual name, but I feel like I've heard it once before. Long ago.”

“I don't see how that's possible,” was all she said with narrowed eyes.

“Ye always have an answer fer everything, don't ye?”

“Not always, no,” she answered honestly, confusion flitting across her face and causing her forehead to wrinkle. She wasn't usually so forthcoming with strangers.

Captain Grey stared at her a long moment, his legs relaxed and open. The perfect target. If only she could move. Why couldn't she move?

“Is something the matter, pet?” He asked with feigned innocence, his lips slightly turned up at the corners in a secret smile.

Amara’s eyes became little slits, “I'm not your pet.”

“Are ye certain?” he said as he quirked one eyebrow and crossed one ankle on top of his opposite knee.

“Yes,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“If ye say so,” he smiled, shrugging one shoulder at her.

“I don't have time to play games with you, “ she growled, baring her teeth at him.

“I beg ter differ. We have all the time in the world. Besides, I like games,“ The Captain grinned, standing to walk behind the chair.

Amara sighed loudly, shaking her head at him, “Why?”

“Because they're entertaining,” He widened his smile and leaned against the back of the chair, facing her.

“No. Why did you kidnap me?”

“I didn't kidnap ye. Me crew did. “

Amara nodded, chewing on her lower lip, “Okay. Why can't I move?”

“Whatever do ye mean? Ye can move. “

“Enough! “ she shouted, straining against the invisible bonds that contained her. “You know what I mean. My chains are broken, yet I cannot move.”

“Ye can move,” he repeated, gesturing at her free arms.

This have Amara pause for a brief moment, “Then why won't you let me?”

“Clever girl,” he admonished, moving to stand behind her. “Ye finally asked the right question.”

His deep voice rumbled low in his chest and his warm breath moved her hair, tickling her ear when he leaned down. She suppressed a groan as she shivered slightly, not uttering a word as she waited, doing her best not to lean her head back to look up at him.

“Because I'm not done with you yet.”

“How are you able to control me, then?”

“I have…” he hesitated a beat, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight, “Unique abilities, if ye will. They allow me ter manipulate people into doing what I want them to do.”

“There's got to be a loophole somewhere,” she admonished, mostly to herself.

He chuckled warmly, “Aye. Only one, but it's nothing that I have to worry about.”

“Oh no? And why is that?” Amara asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Ye'd have ter be in love with me. Only then will I lose the ability to have control over ye and yer mind.” He explained calmly.

Amara snorted, “That will never happen.”

“Exactly. But until then, I can make ye do anything I want. Say anything I want,” he crossed the room with a smirk, squatting down to get eye level with her as he grabbed her chin.

Amara shifted her eyes away, digesting the information, “Prove it.”

“Are ye sure?” He raised his eyebrows and a slow, lazy smile spread across his face.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said, immediately regretting the words after she said them, feeling as sure as she sounded, but not one to back down.

“If ye insist. Stand up and take off yer clothes,” he stood up and waited.

“I will not!” She said even as her body obeyed without hesitation, disrobing quickly. Her chin quivered as the air hit her naked body, causing her to blush head to toe in both anger and humiliation.

Lucian stood back and gazed at her admiringly, “So beautiful.”

Her body shook as she waited to see what would happen, not knowing how far he would take it He seemed to be enjoying just looking at her, but when he met her gaze, guilt as well as a few other emotions flickered in his eyes.

“Get dressed,” his command was softer than before.

Amara complied and mumbled to him, her eyes downcast, “Thank you.”

“Believe me now?”


The Captain left and returned with a mug of beer for her and a small snack from the Galley. She grunted at him, wanting to resist, but her growling stomach made the decision for her. The captain fed her slowly and then offered her the drink, which dribbled down her chin. He dabbed at it and smiled at her, his eyes a dark, stormy grey. He turned his back to put her dishes on his desk and gave her the perfect opportunity to strike. Amara yanked on her chains hard, her eyes twinkling with glee as she heard a snap when one of the links finally broke around her ankles. She lunged at him full force and grunted as they toppled over the desk. She hit the floor hard when he swiftly dodged her attempt at causing him harm. He picked her up quite easily with one arm and set her back down in the chair a lot more gracefully than his crew, a smirk on his face.

“Oh, that was a valiant attempt, but ye aren't going anywhere ‘til I tell ye otherwise. So, settle down,” the Captain said with a devilish grin, reaching over to wrap his fingers around her long dark tendrils.

“You can't stop me,” she countered, but her words lacked conviction as she stopped struggling immediately, her eyes reflecting her confusion.

“Try me,” he challenged, holding her in place firmly by her loose locks.

They both stared at one another. Her, with her chin tilted up, eyes narrowing in defiance and her nostrils flaring. The captain with raised eyebrows and a slow, lazy grin spreading across his face as he baited her, waiting for her next move. A loud knock permeated the door, causing him to chuckle as he released her suddenly and them both to look up expectantly.


“Yes, lad?”

“The feast. It's about ter begin,“ Beck opened the door and peeked around the corner nervously.

“Thank ye, laddie. Put her with the rest of the girls,” he nodded his head in her direction, glancing at her briefly and smiled, “Behave. We will talk later.”

Amara sniffed, but complied to her surprise. Inside, she felt a rage brewing, a battle between her strong mentality and her physical self. Her brain kept telling her to go one direction, but her body was no longer listening to her commands. She knew she needed to break the spell, or whatever it was that had a hold on her. The Captain was a strong pirate who held the key to her freedom, but Amara had to be stronger. She had to prove her worth. She had to break free.


Amara walked calmly, allowing Beck to lead her by the arm to the Galley. Along the way, he kept mopping the sweat from his forehead, preventing it from running into his eyes. He also kept coughing lightly and darting glances over at her from the corner of his eyes, but apart from that, remaining silent. The floorboards creaked underneath their feet and the ship bobbed against the waves that lightly rocked the ship. As they neared the top of the ship, Amara could hear the crew singing merrily. The light breeze blew her hair back off of her forehead and out of her eyes. She inhaled the salty scent of the ocean and took in view. Miles and miles of ocean as far as the eye could see surrounded them.

“Why blow me down, Buckos! If it isn’t the Captain’s favorite wench,” a familiar voice grunted as he stumbled toward her, held up only by Christophe’s strong arms.

“Argh Griffin, yer three sheets to tha wind. Leave ‘er be. Come, let’s go sing another chantey.”

“I think i’d rather crack jenny’s teacup, if ye know what I mean,” Griffin bellowed suggestively, cackling as he swayed heavily on his feet.

“Aye, aye, but I need a clap of thunder ter warm me belly. Lead thar way,” Beck muttered in a high pitched voice, offering a small smile at Amara.

She shot them an icy glare, narrowing her eyes into angry slits and pressing her lips together tightly. The scrawny pirate gulped audibly, averting his eyes from her hostile expression.

“Alright me hearty,” Griffin nodded at Beck with half closed lids, then glanced once more at Amara, pointing a finger at her, “But ye stay out of me way wench, or I’ll make you walk the plank. Savvy?”

Amara rolled her eyes and looked away from them, choosing instead to make her way towards the rest of the captives. This seemed to satisfy the drunken pirate, however, and he hiccuped as he was practically dragged away by his mates. The other women looked up at her warily, some whispering to one another, some staring at her with wide eyes. She towered over them by nearly a full foot as she stood up to her full height of six foot three inches, a smirk on her face at their shock. Her gloating was short lived, however, as a familiar voice boomed out happily from behind her.

“Yo Ho Ho! Drink up the rum and be merry, ye scallywags. We’re celebrating our lovely new shipmates awarded from successful pillaging. The feast has begun!”

Cheers and whoops broke out all across the ship as the men tipped back their heads to allow the liquor to flow down quicker. Amara sniffed haughtily, angered at the captain and the crew for capturing her and forcing her to serve them. She attempted to speak to the other women to make time pass quicker, but they all kept their heads down and served the food and drinks to the crew, letting the men grope and manhandle them in fearful silence. This made Amara seethe with fury as she passed out the drinks. It wasn’t until one of the drunk pirates assaulted her backside with a wanton squeeze of his rough hand, that she had finally had enough. Whipping around to face the offending male, she brought a mug crashing over his head swiftly, pieces of glass embedding in his skull as blood matted his hair and stained his collar.

“Blimey! I outta flog you and feed the fishes with yer remains!” The man shrieked out in pain as he raised his hand in anger, surprised as his hand was caught by someone much stronger and taller than either of them.

“Avast ye! Ye shall not touch this one. She be mine. Do I make meself clear, buccaneers?” Captain Grey shouted out, releasing the man’s hand forcefully, his jaw clenched and eyes tight.

Amara narrowed her eyes at him even as her belly clenched at his words. She was no man’s property. Nor would she ever be

“Aye, aye captain!” The men responded loudly and without hesitation, carrying on as if nothing happened.

“I can take care of myself,” Amara spat out, offended by his gallant but unnecessary gesture.

“A thank ye would suffice, love,” he laughed, gripping her jaw between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up to look in his eyes.

She snarled at him and tried to rip her jaw from his grip by pulling back her head. He held on steadfast and chuckled heartily, his silver eyes twinkling in delight at her struggle. He let go of her, grinning mischievously before stroking her cheek lightly. Amara shivered slightly and then clenched her jaw to stamp out the offending reaction. She stalked off in a huff, wanting to distance herself from this ornery gigantic man who caused confusion to swirl inside of her.

“Yer welcome!” He called after her, his voice echoing across the boat.


As night started to fall and the rum drinkers got more boisterous, Amara managed to sneak away to explore the ship on her own. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t really interested in exploration. She was looking for a way to escape. Throwing one more glance over her shoulder to make sure that she wasn’t being followed, she quickly searched for some sort of small, one man operated boat. She would row to her freedom if she had to!

“Where is it?” she mumbled to herself, tiptoeing around so as not to alert anyone to her being somewhere that she wasn’t supposed to be.

A groaning sound gave her pause and made her heartbeat quicken. Adrenaline began to pump through her veins as she ducked behind a large crate. As she peeked around the edge of the massive, wooden crate, she readied her body for a fight, on high alert. What she saw, almost made her chuckle, the tension in her muscles easing slightly. A pirate and one of the servant women were in a passionate embrace. He was kissing her neck and fondling one of her breasts, his other hand wrapped around her waist, holding her close. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were closed. She was about to walk away, to continue her search elsewhere, when the woman’s eyes popped open and she mouthed, ‘help me.’ A trail of blood ran down her neck, staining her dress.

“Oh my goddess,” she gasped, clenching her fists before speaking directly to the pirate, standing up to her full height, “Get away from her!”

The crewman growled as he reared his head back to look over at her, the blood dribbling from his mouth glistening in the light of the oil lamp hanging on a nearby hook. Her eyes widened when he smiled at her, his sharp, blood stained teeth making her think that she was seeing things. He threw the servant woman overboard, as if she was nothing more than trash.

“Nooo!” Amara screamed as she ran to the edge of the boat, looking down into the waters for the woman. A helpless rage spread through her body like fire as she looked back at the filthy pirate, her eyes narrowed into little slits, her jaw set in determination as she strode towards him.

“She was dead before she hit the water. Pay her no heed,” he grunted, wiping his bloody mouth on his jacket sleeve.

“I will kill you!” Amara shouted this, even as her hands trembled.

“I doubt that, lassie.” He laughed at the preposterous idea, pointing to something behind her, “You and what army?”

A band of pirates was closing in on her, fangs bared and weapons pulled. For the first time in her life, she felt a glimmer of fear tighten her chest. What were these things? Trepidation and doubt crept down her back and nestled low in her belly, filling her with a sense of dread and uneasiness. How was she going to get out of this? How could she possibly fight these monsters with her bare hands?


“Ye can't fight us all, now can ye, wench?”

“We’ll see,” came her calm response. She absolutely refused to show any fear. Her mother always said that her big mouth was going to get her in trouble. Good thing her mother was also the one to teach her how to defend herself.

“Grab her,” he growled maliciously, pulling back his lips in an unattractive sneer, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

Amara punched and kicked her way through a as many of them as she could, fighting for her life and the life of the woman who was thrown overboard so callously. She landed a couple of great right hooks, a few kicks to the groin, and even went so far as to pull some guys hair out, bite through some flesh and poke some eyes out. No matter what she did to them or how fast she threw her weight around, she couldn’t get them all. Even the ones she thought she had seriously hurt, rose from the ground looking unharmed and extremely pissed off.

Before she knew it, hands were all over her: pulling her hair, touching her face, grabbing her ass, pinning her down, groping her breasts. The more she struggled, the tighter their grips got and the more forceful in nature they became. It was overwhelming, the emotions that this scenario produced: anger, fear, humiliation, desperation, disgust. Hands roamed all over her body, defiling her soul as well as her body. Never in her life had she experienced such helplessness. She didn’t dare stop fighting, however worthless her efforts seemed to be. She would never stop fighting, not until she drew her last breath.

“Enough!” A voice rang out, followed by a gunshot.

Amara cried out in surprise, not expecting such a loud intervention. The pirates let go of her immediately, most of them hitting the deck. Some of them cowered where they stood.

“Yer all acting like a bunch of fools. Leave. Her. Be. Or i’ll kill ye dead,” the Captain threatened through clenched teeth, his eyes glowing silver as he glared around at his crew.

He was met with deafening silence as they all just stared at him from across the way.

Captain Grey pointed his gun at them as he surveyed them, “Savvy?”

“Aye aye Captain!” The pirates shouted in united agreement.

“Off with ye, then. Batten down the hatches. The celebration is over.”

They scampered off lighting fast to their cabins without so much as a backwards glance and Amara exhaled in relief. She didn’t know how long she had been holding her breath, but her chest ached and she felt a wave of dizziness sweep over her, causing her knees to buckle. Then he was there by her side, his strong arms around her shoulders, lifting her up on her feet. The shock of being touched so soon after her attacked caused a panic to stir in her chest.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered when she meant to yell, concentrating on keeping her voice even as she shoved him away.

Captain Grey stepped back with his hands, and gun, raised in surrender, his brows furrowed and his steely grey eyes trained on her cold, calculating baby blues.

“I apologize for me crew. They don’t see women much. When they do, they go tend to go a little crazy.”

“They’re monsters,” she hissed back, stalking towards him with a death glare.

“Agreed. They can be,” he said lowering his arms and putting his gun away in his belt.

Amara shook her head violently, her voice sounding high pitched, “NO! You don’t understand. They have sharp teeth. They drink blood. They are murderers.” “They’re pirates, love. ‘Cept for the drinking blood part. That’s a whole ‘nother story,” he smirked at her, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s not funny. You knew? You knew they were...monsters, yet you stood by and did nothing? What kind of a man are you?”

“I'm man enough. We’re not all that bloodthirsty, lass.”


Her eyes widened, her irises bright blue flames as she just stood there, staring at him.

“I’ll deal with them later,” he shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes narrowing, “Are ye alright?”

“No i’m not alright! You’re one of them? And here I thought I couldn’t despise you any more than I already did,” she hugged her arms to her chest, backing away from him.

The Captain feigned a stunned look and grabbed his chest, staggering back, a pained look on his face, “Oy, ye got me right in the ticker.”

Amara sized him up and put her arms down at her sides as she readied herself. For what exactly, she wasn’t completely certain. To run? To fight?

“Don't even think about it, love,” he warned, shaking his head.

“You know what I’m thinking?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Not exactly.”

“Then how…?”

The Captain’s gaze softened before his eyes shifted away from the intensity of her stare. He rubbed his chin, playing with his beard while he debated telling her anything, his other hand on his hip. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he turned his head back towards her a small smile on his rugged face.

“I can’t be telling ye all my secrets, now can I, lass? Come. We should get inside. There’s a storm a brewin’.”

Amara looked up, at the dark mass of storm clouds creeping in, like smoke rolling across the water. The waves were growing choppy, the ocean coming to life, lifting and dropping the massive wooden ship as if it were breathing. A lump formed in her throat as she thought about jumping into the water to escape, knowing that she would get lost in the storm and that the possibility of finding land before she drowned was slim. She was strong, she was able bodied, but she was not superhuman in nature’s eyes. Not even a little bit.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re one of them.”

“Allow me to rephrase,” he smirked and winked, “You will come with me. Now.”

“You are mistaken, sir,” but her smile was wiped off her face as her feet started to move of their own volition or rather at his command.

“Am I now?” he raised his eyebrow and offered his hand, which she ignored as she walked passed his smug face.

“This ain’t over, Captain.”

“I’m lookin’ forward to our time together,” he chuckled as he led her to the captain’s quarters, shutting the door behind him.


After Captain Grey made sure that Amara was safely chained to the chair, which was bolted to the floorboards, he put his hands on his hips and looked down at her.

“You’ll be safe in here.”

“Not if the ship sinks,” she said with a quirked eyebrow and a snort, ever the smart ass.

He leaned down until he was in her face, close enough that she could smell the rum on him, “Watch yer bloody mouth, lassie. That’s me ship you’re speakin’ of.”

Amara swallowed. Her mouth was dry and for some reason, unbeknownst to her, she was at a loss for words. He stood up, satisfied that he had made his point, and walked to the door. As he opened them, a furious gust of wind blew inside, blowing around anything that wasn’t secured. He looked back at her and froze, entranced for a brief moment by her hair billowing around her. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat and held up a key.

“This is fer yer own good. And mine. So, you don’t get any clever ideas.”

“Wait! You can’t just lock me up in here. What if--?” Amara shouted, anxiety causing a fluttering in her stomach.

“No,” Captain Grey cut her off in a booming voice, winking at her, “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll be back soon.”

“I’m not your pet!” Amara yelled at the now closed door as he locked her in.

Thunder rumbled loudly from directly above the ship, making the walls and floor vibrate with the sound. For a moment, all was still, everything was quiet. Then it was as if the heaven’s opened up and began to cry. Amara broke her chains once more, not having the Captain around to prevent it.

“What now?” She muttered to herself as she stood up, looking for a way to break out of the room.

Once she found what she was looking for, she went to work on the door. She would not let herself die in that room. She would much rather take her chances out in the storm alone. Anything was better than this.


Amara busted through the door, elation and determination causing her chest to puff out with pride. Now to find that little boat and get off that god-forsaken ship to finish her mission.

“Batten down the hatches, boys!” The Captain shouted orders to the men, doing his best to control the wheel.

Amara could see Captain Grey struggling. His face was screwed up in pain, his jaw was clenched, his long hair was soaked and whipping around him in the salty sea spray, and the muscles in his arms bulged with the effort. Amara fought for her balance as the shipped bobbed up and down helplessly in the choppy waters, the waves splashing water onto the deck in massive amounts.

“Faster, mateys! Get this water overboard, get those sails up! We can’t let the sea devour us!”

The men cheered in agreement. Some were manning the sails, one was on lookout above checking for obstructions before they hit them, others were throwing the water overboard as fast as they possibly could using buckets. Looking out to sea, Amara knew there was no way she was getting off this ship alive like she had previously hoped.

“Hell,” she muttered under her breath as she watched the captain loose his footing and slide towards the edge of the ship.

He pulled himself up, only to get hit with a swinging boom. A couple of crewmen lost control of one of the sails while they were trying to reattach it to the mast. He was flung overboard, but managed to grab onto the side of his ship, holding on for dear life. All the men were busy and didn’t seem to notice that they were about to lose their captain to the stormy seas. Amara reacted quickly, crawling towards him for the most part on all fours. She grabbed onto his arms with both hands, bracing her legs against the wall of the ship and pulled him swiftly back on board.

“Amara, I told ye to stay inside, didn’t I?” He panted when he was flopped back onto the deck like a fish.

“I am descended from a long line of strong, Amazon women. I don’t take orders from anyone, but especially not you.”

“Amazon’s eh? I thought they were just legends.” He smiled at her in thanks and slipped his way towards the wheel.

“Captain!” The lookout shouted, “The hull is going to hit some rocks to the right of us!”

“Not if I can bloody help it, we aren’t.”

Amara joined him as he grabbed onto the helm, helping him turn to the left. He grinned over at her briefly, causing her to grin back.

“Pull hard!” He ordered her and for once she didn’t question him.


After the storm let up, Amara sat down on a nearby crate, still wet from the rain. At that point, she didn’t really care. She was already soaked to the bone and exhausted as hell. Some of them men nodded and smiled at her in appreciation, while a select few still looked at her as if she carried the plague or something.

“I can’t believe Captain let a woman be part of the crew, even for a moment,” one pirate in a group of three said.

Christophe laughed and nudged the pudgy man next to him with his elbow, “Aye. She’s more of a man than ye are, eh Griff?”

“And better looking too!” Another shouted from across the room.

This brought out a round of laughter from the whole crew as they finished cleaning up the mess the storm had caused. Griffin, the one she had defended herself against, flushed an angry red. Amara could practically see the smoke rising out of his ears as he stomped away to his quarters.

“Shut it, the lot of ye!”

Captain Grey caught her eye and winked as more chuckles ensued, striding towards her with purpose. As he sat down, Amara couldn’t help but smile herself at the merriment of the crew, well excluding Griffin.

“I appreciate the help ye gave us. Ye didn’t have to, ye know.” He offered, patting her knee with his hand.

“I know,” she said quietly, debating whether or not to break his hand.

Amara felt the heat of his hand on her bare thigh and shuddered as it spread in the form of delicious tingles. When he pulled his hand away, it’s absence pulled at her. It was a feeling she didn’t quite understand, never having experienced it before. The only time her clan was with men, was at war defending their territory from outsiders trying to steal their land or when it was springtime. Once a year, for however long it took, her tribe mated with the Gargareans, who were a male tribe. They parted ways and then when the offspring were big enough to be weaned and walk, the boys went with the male tribe and the girls went back with the Amazons as the peace treaty dictated.

“So, do you still want to leave?” He turned his smokey grey eyes to lock with her cold blue ones.

“Yes. Am i still your slave?” She raised her eyebrows and smirked.

“No,” he chuckled, his eyes dancing, “You earned your freedom. Although, i would love for you to stay.”

“I see,” Amara offered a tight lipped smile, tearing her gaze away from his, the intensity of his gaze getting to her, “Why is that?”

Captain Grey shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, sucking in a deep breath before responding awkwardly, “Yer entertaining, beautiful, clever. I’d be honored to have you join me crew.”

“I cannot stay. I still have to complete my mission for my tribe. What about the other women?” Amara asked instead, flattered at his compliments, but saddened as she thought about leaving her tribe behind without her leadership.

Lucian nodded, sighing loudly as he steepled his hands over his mouth, his elbows resting on his knees, “Aye. I’ll take them back to their towns, ye have my word.”

Amara scoffed and snuck a peek at him, “Your word as a monster pirate?”

He chuckled once, then grew serious as he stood up and offered her his hand, “No. My word as a man who owes a pretty girl a favor. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes. We have a deal,” she agreed, taking his hand and shaking it firmly as she stood as well.

“Good. We’ll leave ye at the next place we dock.”

“Good.” She agreed with a smile.


The days turned into weeks and Amara was growing restless. She threw herself into helping the crew and Lucian with the daily running of the ship, thankful for his alliance. The constant rocking of the boat was wearing on her nerves and she soon grew agitated. One evening, when the captain had retired to his quarters, she stomped after him and banged on the door with the palm of her hand.

“Enter,” he called out at the same time that she threw open the large wooden door.

“When are we going to dock? It’s been ages since we called a truce.”

“Why hello to you, too my dear,” he put down his map, propping his feet on the desk and crossing his arms.

“Please answer the question.” She said, seething, her nostrils flaring as she thought he might be going back on his word.

“Land ho!” The lookout shouted at that very moment, causing Lucian to chuckle.

“I believe you have your answer, lassie,” his smile didn’t quite reach his darkened eyes as he watched her.

Amara looked away from him and turned on her heel, unable to bear the sadness that tinged his gaze. He followed suite, walking behind her. She felt his eyes on her back and goosebumps raised on her arms as she went to the front of the ship. He stood beside her in silence, only leaving to help dock the ship once it reached the port.

“Well, Amara, this be it,” his voice was low and sensual as he touched her arm.

“Why don’t you command me to stay,” she asked, her breath catching, her mind swirling with emotion.

He shifted to the other foot and shot a guilty look at her, “I cannot.”

“Why not?” She questioned, her eyebrows knitting together.

He pulled her in a hug, “Ye know the answer ter that, lass.”

Amara paused, listening to his heartbeat as she rested her head on his chest, her voice sounding small when she was finally able to speak, “How long have you been in love with me?”

“A while now, I suppose. It caught me surprise to.”

She pulled back to look at him, “Why didn't you say anything before now?”

“I couldn't,” he admitted, exhaling in a huff, “Why didn't ye try to leave?”

“I didn't know that I could.”

“When did you stop trying?”

“You know the answer to that,” she repeated, with a sad smile.

He grinned, grasping her hands, “Aye.”

They just stared at one another a moment before she turned away from him, letting go of his hands.

“Come with me.”

“You know that I can’t, love,” he hesitated a beat before whispering, “Stay here with me.”

She looked longingly over her shoulder at him, “I wish that I could. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Goodbye, Lucian,” she turned to leave, but he pulled her around to face him.

“Here’s something to remember me by,” he kissed her goodbye then, pleading with his lips and tongue to no avail.

“Until we meet again,” Amara gasped, touching his cheek softly before walking swiftly away. Tears ran down her face and she felt her heart breaking in two at the thought of letting him go, but knew that she had to do what was best for her tribe.

“Aye,” he whispered back, sadness hardening his heart as it spread like a disease, “Until we meet again.”

© Copyright 2018 K. L. Byrd. All rights reserved.

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