Beneath the Dark Tide

“Good morning, pet,” he sneered, his voice thick with sarcasm.

I clenched my jaw, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a response.

“What’s this?” he taunted.
“Ignoring your husband now?”
“It hurts to talk,” I whispered, my voice barely audible through the pain.

His laughter was cold, biting. It echoed off the walls.

“You deserve every bit of it,” he slurred, his words dripping with spite.

He stumbled into the small bathroom, the sound of running water mingling with his muttered curses. Moments later, he emerged, glaring at me with open contempt.

“If you wake me up, you’ll regret it,” he spat, his eyes dark with malice.


He slid into bed, turning his back to me. Within minutes, his breathing slowed as sleep overtook him. I lay on the thin mattress, every inch of my body aching. Sleep wouldn’t come, no matter how hard I tried to find a position that eased the pain. Time blurred, hours and minutes felt the same in the haze of agony.

Eventually, he rose. The creak of the floorboards was my only indication. For once, he let me be. I didn’t dare move, terrified of provoking any further torment. When I finally drifted off, I woke to a sharp jolt of pain, my body refusing to forget its brutal reality. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Mauve rushed into the chambers, her arrival a blur of light and sound. I blinked, trying to clear my disoriented mind.

“Mauve, what’s going on?”

I asked, my voice rough.

“The captain spotted merchant ships on the horizon,” she said breathlessly, “It’s a bloodbath.”

Even in the captain’s chambers, I could feel the dark magic radiating. Its malevolent energy hummed in the air.

“He sent me to retrieve you,” Mauve added, her eyes darting nervously.
“Retrieve me?”
“For what?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she helped me to my feet. A sharp cry escaped my lips as pain surged through my body. We moved slowly, each step a trial, and by the time we reached the deck, I was gasping for breath.

The sight stole the air from my lungs. The sea churned red with blood. Two ships were engulfed in flames, their frames crackling as they burned. The third ship writhed in the grip of dark, writhing tentacles—no, not tentacles. They were pure, malevolent energy, swirling and pulsing with a sinister force strong enough to tear a ship in half.

The stench of burning wood and the metallic tang of blood thickened the air. Cries of the wounded filled the space, a cacophony of anguish. The crew worked with frantic urgency, battling not just the flames but the dark forces attacking the ships.

I felt him before I saw him—Captain Blackthorn, standing at the helm, eyes glowing with an unnatural light. His face was a mask of grim concentration as he commanded the dark energy with a flick of his wrist, a master of chaos.

“Mauve, what is this?”

I gasped, clutching her arm for support.

“The captain’s power is growing,” she replied, her voice trembling.
“He needs you to help control it.”

Before I could question her, a bolt of dark energy struck the deck near us. Mauve yanked me out of its path, and we stumbled toward safety.

“How am I supposed to control this?”

I demanded, desperation creeping into my voice.

“Dark energy needs a host,” Mauve explained hurriedly.
“With you by his side, some of it transfers to you.”

Before she could elaborate, the Captain’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

“Mauve, bring her to me.”
“Now.”
“I’m sorry, princess,” Mauve said, her voice filled with regret, “but I must follow orders.”

She took my arm firmly, guiding me toward the stern. We moved carefully, dodging the unpredictable beams of dark magic that ricocheted across the ship. The closer we got to the Captain, the more oppressive the energy became, pressing down on us like a living force. When we finally reached him, Captain Blackthorn turned, his eyes glowing with a terrible light. Dark tendrils of energy coiled around him, swirling in anticipation.


“Isabella, take my hand.”

I didn’t have a choice. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me close. Pain exploded through me, blinding and all-consuming. I screamed as my vision blurred, the agony overwhelming. Just as suddenly, it stopped. He released me, and I collapsed to the deck, gasping for air.

“You’ll survive the magic,” he declared, his voice cold and detached.
“I am its chosen host.”
“Get her out of my sight.”

I wasn’t sure who carried me to the captain’s quarters—my vision was too blurred, and my mind too numb to process it. I tried to protest as they laid me on the bed, but only a weak moan escaped my lips. The dark energy still hung in the air, pressing down like a tangible weight.

“James, why is she on my bed?”

Captain Blackthorn’s voice was sharp with irritation.

“Captain, she needs to rest,” James replied calmly.
“She can rest in her cage.”
“In her condition, she needs a firm mattress.”


Blackthorn’s eyes narrowed.

“What are you saying, James?”
“We’ll know if she’s pregnant in a few weeks,” James said steadily.
“If she is, her ribs need to heal properly.”

The captain’s expression darkened, but after a tense moment, he relented.

“Fine.”
“Move a bed in here for her when we reach port.”
“I’ll be celebrating at the tavern.”

He stormed out, leaving me exhausted. James remained by my side, his presence a small comfort amidst the chaos.

“Rest, Isabella,” he said softly.
“I will take care of you.”

Despite the pain and the oppressive energy lingering in the air, I let myself drift into a fitful sleep. The captain’s quarters, though plush, were steeped in dread. Hours passed, or maybe minutes. I woke to the sound of creaking wood and the low murmur of the crew. James was still there, watching over me with concern.

“How do you feel?” he asked gently.
“Like I’ve been hit by a cannonball,” I muttered, trying to sit up.
“Take it easy,” he advised.
“The captain’s power is nothing to trifle with.” You need time to recover.”
“I gave you a draft to ease the pain,” he added softly.
“My brother’s stunt today could have cost more than we can afford.”

His fists were clenched, tension clear in his knuckles. Only then did I notice the bed beneath me was not the captain’s. It was softer, more inviting. The handmade quilt covering me was intricate, delicate, and warm.

“You needed a proper bed,” James explained, his voice softening.
“That quilt was made by my mother when I was a child.”

I ran my fingers over the delicate stitching, feeling the love woven into each thread.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

James nodded, his expression gentle.

“Rest now.”

I lay back on the soft pillows. Exhaustion overtaking me. I realized the pain was dulled. The draft James had given me worked, but I could still feel the dark energy swirling nearby—a constant reminder of the captain’s power.

“James,” I murmured, my eyelids heavy, “why are you helping me?”

He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You are not just a pawn in my brother’s game.”
“You are a person.”
“You deserve better than this.”

I closed my eyes, trusting his words. The ship rocked gently beneath me. I allowed sleep to take over. Just before I drifted off, a thought clawed at the edge of my consciousness.

“James, what if I’m not strong enough to control the dark magic?”
“You’re stronger than you think, Isabella.”
“You are not alone.”

Finally, I let go, sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep.