𝐁𝛐𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 | Nikolai Lantsov

15 | 𝐉𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐚

Standing on the main deck of the Zephyr, I let the salty breeze whip through my brown hair, hiding the nerves knotting in my stomach. The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, a troubling beauty that belied the danger we were about to face. I was part of Nikolai Lantsov's crew—not just any crew, but a band of misfits, adventurers, and thieves. A perfect collection, if you were to ask me, but tonight, our dreams of riches had a darker undertone.

"Gerard!" I heard him call names, his voice a mixture of authority and laughter, the sound I had come to both admire and dread. When he spoke my name, I responded with a short, almost dismissive, "Yes," like everyone else on deck. But my heart raced as I replayed the events of last night—how his lips had brushed against mine, a soft whisper of a kiss that sent shivers down my spine. I couldn’t say I was scared about the impending attack, not out loud at least. But the thought of facing tomorrow made my heart race, not for the thrill of adventure, but for the memory of that kiss.

As the crew bustled about, preparing for our raid, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was different. I hadn’t slept well, mostly due to the uncomfortable hammock swaying beneath me, but also because of the lingering warmth of Nikolai’s kiss. I felt like I had risen from the dead, a ghost among the living—a girl torn between duty and desire.

“You look like you’ve seen the kraken,” Nikolai remarked later that day, leaning against the ship’s railing with a smirk. I met his ocean blue eyes, trying to gather my thoughts. He was impossibly handsome, especially in his captain's coat, a stark contrast to the rough and rugged crew that surrounded us.

“Thanks for the compliment,” I replied dryly, attempting to mask the brewing storm of emotions beneath my sarcasm. “Hammocks have been killing me,” I admitted, a slight groan escaping my lips. There was a mixture of frustration and humor in my tone, and for a moment, it felt like he could sense the tension rippling between us.

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, “Bastard,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes. I could envision him resting comfortably in his cabin, encased in plush pillows, while I wrestled with twisted sheets. When would I get my turn at a proper bed?

After another round of jesting, I grew more comfortable in the routine. We were a family of sorts—Nikolai, Toyla, Tamar, and I—all woven together by shared dreams of adventure and survival. Toyla, one of the Shu twins with his longer hair tied meticulously back in a tail, sheathed his karate swords with a graceful swiftness that spoke to his hidden talents. He was light-hearted, much like me, and every joke he threw made the threatening air around us seem a tad lighter.

“Amora," Toyla called, easily mirroring Nikolai's teasing. "If we don’t survive tomorrow, what do you want written on your tombstone? I’m thinking, ‘Here Lies the Girl Who Could Not Sleep in a Hammock.’”

I shot him a glare, but couldn’t help the laughter bubbling to the surface. “It should say, ‘Died in the pursuit of adventure,’ on account of you two idiots dragging me into this mess.”

“The mess has kept us alive,” Tamar chimed in with a smile, her fierce demeanor softened by the moment. Her axes gleamed under the dimming sun, a reminder of the strength and loyalty she brought to our ragtag team. “Besides, who else could keep you entertained while we’re risking our lives?”

“Or get you killed,” I shot back, grinning. “But that’s a risk I’m willing to take—it’s either death or riches, after all.”

Nikolai caught my gaze again, the laughter diminished but something deeper flickering in his blue eyes. “If we don’t die tomorrow, I promise to get you a proper bed," he said, a smirk dancing on his lips. “No more hammocks, just soft pillows and fancy bedding.”

My heart raced at the promise, and for a moment, the looming danger faded, replaced by a flicker of hope and warmth. This was it, my life as a privateer, where adventure danced hand-in-hand with the unexpected. It was intoxicating.

But as night fell, a heavy weight settled over the ship, the reality of our impending attack sinking in. We gathered on deck, discussing strategies and rallying our spirits—a mixture of bravado and fear blooming in the air hotter than the fire of Tamar’s axes.

“Remember, we stick together. Trust each other,” Nikolai reminded us, his voice steady, the facade of the confident captain washing over him like the waves lapping against the hull. “We all have each other’s backs no matter what.”

As I looked around at my crew—my friends—my heart swelled with fierce pride. There was a whisper on the wind, a promise of adventure that thrilled me even in my uncertainty.

Tonight, as I tossed and turned in my hammock before the storm, my thoughts drifted back to Nikolai. Beneath the charisma and the charm, there was something deeper, something fragile that we both understood but left unspoken. The kiss lingered like salt on my lips, a fantastic calamity waiting to break loose.

But tomorrow, when the sun broke over the horizon, would it be our last dance with danger, or the beginning of something more than just riches and battles? Only time would tell.

As I closed my eyes, the image of Nikolai’s smirk burned in my mind—adventure, danger, and unexpectedly, a prince hidden behind the mask of a privateer. With a quiet breath, I resigned to the chaos of the night, ready to face whatever storm awaited us at dawn, with the promise of more than just battle on the horizon.

⎯⎯ ୨•୧ ⎯⎯