Mark of the Damned | 18+

The Tide

When I open my eyes, a crab is walking across the sand. Yelping, I shoot up before a blush spreads across my cheeks.

Cooper jumps up, grabbing me, before realizing what happened.

"A crab, Niamh?" He raises his eyebrows, which only makes my blush burn deeper.

"Sorry. I wasn't expecting it to be sitting beside my face when I opened my eyes."

"Stay here," he says, kissing my temple. "I'm going to get some supplies to teach you how to fish."

Sitting in the sand, I look down the beach at the sleeping crew. Each of them is sprawled out, completely unbothered by the sunlight.

Are they still alive? No one has moved even once.

A twig snapping behind me startles me, and I whip around.

"C-Captain, good morning." I take a step back from him even though he hasn't moved from the tree line.

"It looked like you had fun last night." His eyes narrow as he stares at me like a bug he wants to squish.

"I did," I chuckle nervously, taking another step back.

"Can't say I've ever seen my son dance before." He steps out from between the trees. "It's like he's a new person." The tone of his voice makes me nervous. These changes are not welcome, at least not to him. "We're his family, girl. At the end of the day, I'm his captain. Whatever boldness he seems to feel in connection with you will fail. This is my crew."

I don't know how to respond to that. This feels like a challenge. Any response I give will be the wrong one.

"He is clinging to you with the ridiculous notion that you calm his beast. After tonight, when the curse is lifted, he'll see you for what you really are. Just a bit of gash, nothing special."

"Yes, Captain," I bow my head.

I don't believe him. Not for a minute. I'll play along, though. I don't want to make him angry, I know how he gets when he's angry.

The way Cooper and I feel, it's beyond what Captain Cormac can comprehend. It's more than just lust. I may be a silly young girl, but I know it in my bones.

"Niamh!" Cooper is running down the beach, dropping the things he had in his hands as he sprints toward us.

He steps in front of me, blocking me from his father, who is now laughing, loudly bellowing laughter with his head thrown back. I hate his laugh. It's not joyful or happy, it's menacing. He only does it when he's angry. "Relax, boy."

Turning on his heels, he walks back into the trees that he came from.

"What was that about? What was he saying to you?" He grabs my shoulders as soon as it's clear that the captain is gone. His eyes are wide and wild.

"Nothing, he was just talking about everyone dancing."

He squints suspiciously. The captain isn't one for pleasantries.

"He seemed angry that everyone enjoyed themselves last night," I add quickly. There is no use upsetting him with the pieces of that conversation that were meant to be painful. I don't believe them anyway.

His expression softens: "That sounds like him."

Walking down the beach, we collect the fishing gear he threw to the side before making our way back to the hidden pool.

"Are there fish? I didn't see any yesterday."

He hums, distracted.

We walk in silence, aside from the leaves crunching beneath our feet. There is a feeling of dread hanging in the air. Every minute that ticks by brings us closer to sunset, closer to the full moon. I want to say something, but I can't think of a single thing that would help. So, I keep my mouth shut.